I'm not ready to tell you this...

but a friend encouraged me to take a risk

I’m so not ready to write this, y’all.

For months, I’ve hinted at being in transition — a sentence here or there, an occasional comment, little sprinkles of dreams and vulnerability.

Specific enough to resonate with others, generic enough to hide behind. Safe.

But that’s changing now. I can feel the transition accelerating. The dreams are getting louder:

We’re ready, they’re saying.

“I’m not!” I reply.

I had a conversation last week with my friend

Robin Taylor (he/him)

. I told him how hard it was to allow myself to dream. How there are all these parts of me — past parts, present parts — who want me to know just how risky this dream is. And oh, they are loud. They are so afraid we’ll get hurt. So terrified of giving our whole hearts to a dream.

Robin smiled in that warm, knowing way of his, and gave a little shrug. “Maybe take a risk,” he said.

Writing today’s letter feels a lot like that time I stood on the glass platform at Willis Tower and felt as if I could step off the edge of the world. Photo by author.

A few days later, I took myself to a coffeeshop, brought along my favorite journal, and gave myself permission to dream. I wrote about the kind of life I wanted for myself — how I wanted to spend my time, how I wanted to feel, what abundance would look like. After, I looked down at the words and realized that my dreams are not outlandish. They’re not wildly irresponsible. They’re actually (and this might be the scariest part) kinda maybe achievable?

Would you like to know what they are? I’m really not ready tell you, but I’m going to anyway:

• I dream of telling stories.

• I dream of supporting myself through a combination of writing and my Easeful Marketing business — NOT the sort of marketing that helps tech bros get richer. The antithesis of that.

• I dream of a business that centers agency, empowerment, ease, that rejects hustle culture and zero-sum thinking while remaining clear-eyed about the realities and challenges of late-stage capitalism.

• I dream of helping individuals — artists, creators, freelancers, consultants, solo-business owners, self-employed healers and helpers of all kinds, people who are carving out their own paths to thriving — talk about their work and their value in ways that feel resonant, authentic, powerful.

• I dream that this work can be not only empowering but healing, that it can help us unravel the lies we’ve been told about who deserves to follow their dreams and who should just keep their heads down and be grateful for what they have.

I’m not ready to tell you all of this because realizing my dream means asking for help. *shudder* I’m not great at asking for help. Again, I’m going to do it anyway.

If you’re interested in marketing and self-promotion:

• Subscribe to my Easeful Marketing Substack. Consider a paid subscription if you can (I haven’t figured out the benefits for paid subscribers yet, but I’m working on it!).

• Consider working with me 1-on-1. Before you think you can’t afford it, know that my pricing model is pretty radical, so maybe you actually can.

If you’re a super-nice person and just want to help:

• If you have the resources, consider a paid subscription for Creative Letters or make a one-time donation here.

• Refer me to people in your network who might need marketing guidance.

• Like, comment, and share this post to help more people find me.

• Offer me a few words of encouragement in the comments? I could really use them today! 😬

I’m getting ready to publish, and my nervous system is alight. I’m not ready. But it’s time to take a risk.

Without risks, our dreams will only ever be dreams.

Here’s to my dreams… and yours.

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