Online Vulnerability & the Gift of Loving Engagement

Feels cold outchea' sometimes...

Last week, I drafted a post called “Substack Feels Like a Hollow Place”.

It was the morning after I had published my post, “Why I Identify as Sapphic”. I had awoken to discover that this precious piece of writing that I’d spent 10 straight hours vulnerably pouring my heart into, hadn’t received any likes or comments, or any response whatsoever, despite seeing that dozens of people were interested enough to click on it and start reading.

Although the length and quality of that piece of writing, beckoned for it to be placed behind a paywall-I had intentionally made it available for free, to increase its accessibility to my community. I hoped this would allow me to receive more connection and engagement, but it didn’t.

So, on top of the stinging heartbreak I was feeling, I also felt devalued. Not to mention, I felt cold and naked from how deeply I had been gaped into.

In an attempt to put my clothes back on, I decided to place it behind the paywall it deserved. I then began to draft a new blog post about how Substack felt empty-how discouraged I felt on this platform.

After my Artist page was cancelled from Instagram, I had hopes that Substack would offer an equally or even more connected space for me to share my work. But at that point when Substack seemed to fail me, I didn’t know where to turn to, or even if I should keep writing here. I didn’t know which home my bounty of expression belonged to.

“Without the community engagement, I might as well just write in my own private journal”, I thought. “Maybe the internet is just not for me”, I thought. Lots of thoughts scurried through my head, as I reported the inevitable hollowness of Substack. Before publishing that post and blasting it out to everyone, I decided that I would take a break.

Just as I paused to take that break, something magical happened: A friend of mine, a fellow writer and supporter, “liked” my post.

Someone saw and heard me? One heart was genuinely touched?

One Person was enough for me to change my mind about Substack feeling hollow. I decided not to publish that post after all, and went outside to frolick in the sun with my cat.

About an hour later, I returned, only to find this same friend share a luscious outpouring of a response, in deep resonance with my writing. It was like all of the heartfelt energy I had poured out, had come back to me in a karmic circle. I felt gifted and so deeply grateful.

Because I have less than a handful of paid subscribers, the exchange we shared around my writing, was also shared in a more intimate space. I appreciated that, too.

Less is more, and more brings more.

The irony of it was, that this all seemed to happen instantaneously, after taking an action to honor the value of my work, and to honor my worth. I initially thought that opening myself up to everyone would be the golden ticket to connection, but it is really about reserving myself for those who are truly able to support me, even if it takes a little more faith and patience to receive.

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It seems that this post somehow turned into an anecdote about life and self-worth. It’s a beautifully unexpected detour, and I’m running with it. But, I initially had a different intention in writing this post.

My original intention, was to share with people, how writing as vulnerably as I do online, can sometimes be extremely challenging. The internet enables a lot of antisocial behaviors that we probably wouldn’t do to people face to face, and otherwise good content often gets pushed down by all the endless data we take in on a daily basis. Unless we carve out intentional space to focus our attention on what truly brings value into our lives, it’s easy to get lost in the sauce.

I acknowledge that I’m still rewiring my nervous system to move away from the instant gratification, attention economy, and distraction that the internet grooms us into.

The dynamic of sharing something so pure and heartfelt, specifically to connect with people who subscribe to my content, only to receive nothing-is not new to me. I’ve experienced this on other platforms, and it’s always been painful to receive. But in the past 15 years of creating and sharing my heart across various online platforms-this dynamic never got any easier, my skin never got any thicker, and I’ve only recently begun to realize that it’s not meant to.

I want people to understand how much it means for me to receive genuine connection through the work I put out there, and how even one person’s small actions can make a huge impact. My relationship with my small audience, still feels very intimate. As I’ve grown in my Artistry, I realize that some portion of my work will always be exclusively reserved for special or intimate audiences, but it’s still in my nature to share generously, where I can.

Without human connection, having a platform like this is totally meaningless. I’d rather have an engaged audience than a large one. I could give a damn about numbers. It’s quality over quantity for me, all the way.

With that said, if you are a subscriber, whether free or paid, and you read my work, please consider giving back through your engagement. It means a lot to me. Likes, hearts, thoughtful commentary, questions, and sharing my work with others…is all nourishing to me. It’s a beautiful way to give back the heart-work I offer. A lot of people have told me that I inspire them. Believe it or not, receiving love in this way inspires and encourages me, too. It works both ways.

If you are subscribed to me and my work doesn’t genuinely inspire you to engage or support in any way…maybe it’s time to reconsider if I belong in your inbox?

Something to think about…

For those who have supported me in any form or fashion, thank you so much for your presence. You are seen, remembered, and loved.

I write this to bridge the gap of understanding, so that I can cultivate my platform into a sustainable place for me to live, work and grow abundantly-so that the fruits of my wisdom can trickle into my community and nourish others along their journey.