fifty substack posts later
thoughts on writing, its meaning, and beyond
I’ve officially sent out 50 posts for the world to read. It’s not three digits, but it’s a round enough number where I wondered, was there any meaning behind this?
I started writing this Substack as an ode to the early Facebook days. There was something beautiful about how unrefined thoughts were in the same way how there’s beauty in tasteful transparency. As social media aged, its incentives gravitated towards content I connected less with. I wondered what it would be like to reconnect with more transparent thoughts.
It’s been over four years now. Every post has been a snapshot of my thoughts in that time, just like how a photograph is a visual snapshot of a moment. Something I love about photography is how I can remember the emotions I felt when I took the photo. It adds depth as its creator. With writing, there’s a similar feeling—it’s like I’m having a one-way conversation with my past self. I can remember any worries, anxieties, ambitions, and silently tell my past self that things worked out, or will eventually work out.
I love how expressive writing is and how infinite its possibilities are. I could be an amazing writer writing about your least favorite topic and have you feel enamored by it. I could distill an idea that captures a feeling you’ve been waiting to relate to. Writing that serves yourself also serves everyone because we’re all more similar than not. There’s a lot to explore, and even more to discover.
The ambitious side of me also wonders if I got better at writing. To be honest, I don’t think my skills got significantly better despite how consistent I was. The only change has been my relationship with writing—how much I enjoy it, how much clarity it gives me, and how excited I feel about sharing. I’ve nurtured a passion for it. Not enough to switch careers, but enough to bother your inbox once a month. Not enough to write more often, but enough to block out my weekend mornings for it. A sustainable balance.
Similar to fashion, it takes time to find your style. Being able write in my own newsletter gives the creative freedom I need to explore. School was constraining—it doesn’t teach passion, only exposure. School is terrible for nurturing passion. Passion shouldn’t be measured or graded, passion should be pursued. And the best things in life come from passion.
It’s fun to see how my writing evolved over time. It started off very structured, an old habit from my product management days. I eventually deviated from the issue structure, to pivoting away from monthly updates and then writing about anything, deep or not. You won’t find consistent theme in this newsletter, but you’ll find the same voice.
The scariest part of writing publicly is starting. Will anyone care about what I write? Does anyone care about my thoughts on AI, running or life? What will people think? I pondered on these thoughts every time I write, hoping that they’d fade (they never do). However, with accumulated wisdom from friends, the world felt a little less daunting to write to.
If you’re thinking about writing, wisdom that stuck with me was that people will read only if they want to read. And if people don’t want to read, then they won’t read. Framed differently, this is a win-win: readers get to read enjoyable content, and everyone else carries on. Thanks Jamie for this wisdom when we serendipitously ran into each other at an airport for a red-eye.
It took a little self-belief to start writing publicly. As a kid, I remember my mom telling me that I was a good writer. I don’t remember when, where, how or even why. But I like keeping that reminder for when I think about how poorly I did in my language courses and how reductive numbers are to a human’s ability. Numbers are details to a story, they are never the story.
Is this newsletter an exception? After all, it is a celebration for writing 50 newsletter issues. Not quite. Part of it is me bragging that I’ve been consistent with writing for longer than most. The bigger story is that passion is found in intimidating places. But rewards only taste as good as their journey, and I thank you for being a part of mine for 50 posts.