The first thing that comes to mind when staring at a blinking cursor after three weeks away is a question: how do I do this again?

It’s not that I didn’t want to travel to Lake Maxinkuckee in Culver, Indiana with my family. I did. I’d been looking forward to living out my lake girl dreams for months. But I resented taking time off from writing and job figure-outing, two pursuits I knew would be futile while visiting cousins I hadn’t seen in years and sharing an AirBnb with four toddlers.

And so, despite the momentum I’d recently started making and because long distance travel is a once-maybe-twice-a-year luxury right now, I leaned into the pause and flew 2,095 miles away from my laptop.

I expected eight days in Hunza G to turn down the volume on my aspirations. Instead, the voices in my head only got louder, confirming what I’d been thinking since June: I’m definitely ready to close out my stay-at-home mom era. I want to work again. That realization boarded the plane with me, squeezed into the middle seat alongside my 3-year-old, and came home in my carry-on. I’ve always been an overpacker.

Maybe it was the fact that Culver’s picturesque and serene environment is an ideal location for a solo writing retreat1, but there wasn’t a single day I didn’t think about essay concepts or visual content I wanted to create. I’d urgently jot down half-baked ideas in my Notes app, once reaching for my phone on a boat traveling 45mph while my 16-month-old dug her fingers into the back of my neck.

When I wasn’t thinking about my next post or the newsletters I was falling behind on reading (forgive me), I was mentally running through the list of experiments I’d committed to knocking out this summer: shoot a make believe campaign, kickoff an interview series, design a website, and so on. Like the flicker of light from a firefly at dusk, my mind would spark with impatience, wondering when and where my first paycheck in 2.5 years would come from. Exciting, nerve-racking stuff.

“What’s next for you, Elin?” was a recurring ask from family throughout the trip, and I’m just as curious. No, I’m actually dying to know. What is next? Summer is basically over, and I still have so much to do before finding a satisfying answer to that question.

Some may think this all sounds like I definitely needed a break.

“You can’t even go to a gorgeous little lake town in the Midwest with your family without thinking about work? Live a little, loser!”

But the thing is, I did live a little. I leaped off a boat into the middle of a lake. I went wake surfing for the first time and actually stood up. I sunbathed with dragonflies at sunset. I stayed up past 10 p.m., trespassing private docks and kissing my husband on tree-lined streets, a Blue Bunny caramel ice cream cone in hand. Most impressively, I embraced the humid weather. Honestly, it was great for my skin.

My husband had to work some while we were away, but I only asked to borrow his laptop twice. Once to draft an email response to an editor who’d asked me to tighten up a pitch, and a second time to reread it that evening before pressing send.

Aside from refreshing my inbox every hour because of said email (two weeks later, still refreshing), I was present enough for the big magic only a small town, population: 1,129, can give. But please. Don’t make me take a vacation again. Not until I can answer "what’s next.”

Maybe we don’t have to slow down just because it’s summer. Maybe taking a break is only delaying grand plans. Or maybe, if you’re missing work while in a beautiful place, it simply confirms you’re on the right path. This obsession of clarity reminds me how I felt at the end of 2023 when I made the decision to leave my full-time job to be a stay-at-home mom. Just like falling in love, when you know, you know.

What a relief it is to stop questioning whether I’m ready or not for what’s next and start figuring out what the heck it is.

July marks two years (!!) since I hit publish on the first issue of Bang Voyage. After nearly a hundred newsletters, countless contributor submissions, and a handful of collaborations with internet-turned-real-life friends, I’m beyond grateful that building this little corner of the internet doesn’t just feel like a hobby anymore. It feels like meaningful, exciting, can’t-live-without-it work.

I’m so happy to be back.

In honor of the last week of my Anniversary month, I’m breaking down ten things I’ve learned after two years on Substack. But before we get into it, a quick reminder that I’m offering a celebratory 20% discount on annual paid subscriptions through the 31st.

You’ll unlock the full archive + access to “Bangers Only,” a monthly bonus series that will be paywalled moving forward. You’ll also be supporting the work that goes into publishing Bang Voyage every Sunday. I treat this like a real job, and every paid subscription helps me feel like that’s not such a crazy thing to do.

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Ten Things I’ve Learned After Two Years on Substack

1. A vulnerability hangover is worth the nausea.

Writing about “the nose job I never had,” my public parenting disaster at a Long Beach diner, and my sobriety wasn’t easy. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve scheduled a post and had trouble sleeping because of the vulnerable subject matter. But these essays also bring the most thoughtful comments and conversations. Writing is a solitary activity, but the more I share about the messy stuff, the less alone I feel.

It’s encouraging when other writers bare their soul on the internet, too. Case in point: ’s honest essay this past week on living with ADHD, a beautiful piece that so many of us connected with regardless of our relationship with the medical diagnosis.

2. People follow for the writing and subscribe for the person.

Earlier this year, slid into my DMs and suggested I schedule an Office Hour to discuss my growth strategy on Instagram—a platform I was clearly trying to grow but without much success. I appreciated that she saw potential in what I was trying (keyword) to do and booked a session.

One thing she said during our call made me realize why it’s so much easier for me to build community here compared to other social platforms.

Ellen said I’d built a “girl gang” (her words) on Substack by telling my story (the good, the bad, the ugly) in a way that others could relate to. She suspected I could build a meaningful following on Instagram if I mimicked that same storytelling strategy.

I’m not sure I’ve figured out how to do that yet on Instagram (a talking-head reel and a 1,300 word essay are two very different beasts, ugh), but the conversation reminded me that people don’t relate to perfectly curated content or viral trends. They connect with unfiltered real life.

3. Unsubscribes got ya down? You better toughen up, buttercup.

One of the toughest lessons I’ve learned is that not all subscribers will stay.

Sometimes subscribers will leave immediately after you publish a post, leaving you feeling like you’re naked on a stage. Sometimes they’ll be strangers, and sometimes they’ll be third-tier-friends. I’ve spent more energy than I’d like to admit wondering what made a dinner date unsubscribe. Was it something I said? Or did it have nothing to do with me at all?

I’ll never know why people leave without warning (because I’d rather die than ask), but I do know people unsubscribe for all kinds of reasons. If you’re in the business of creating content and building a following along the way, the healthier mindset is to stop worrying about the people who left and keep going for the people who continue showing up. If they’re out of sight, put them out of your mind.

(And while we’re on the subject, please turn off your unsubscribe notifications! It took me way too long to do this.)

4. Doors will open that you didn’t see coming.

The more people I’ve connected with on this platform, the more doors seem to multiply out of thin air. And by “doors” I mean things like event invites, brand partnerships, and hangs with genuinely cool and interesting people I’d never have met otherwise. Writing on Substack has led to so many exciting opportunities, and I hope continuing to do so keeps ‘em coming.

5. The more often you post, the greater your odds of success.

Some weeks, okay many weeks, I’ve wondered how the heck I’m going to draft, edit, and publish a post when I’m drowning in another round of sickness (toddler mom life) or living on five-hour stretches of sleep. But a handful of those letters have been the ones that gained the most traction. I’ll never forget when a low-effort list I almost didn’t post was mentioned by the . You never know what’s gonna stick, so just keep throwing things at the wall.

Showing up anyway, regardless of how much life is life-ing, has also strengthened my self-confidence. Every post is another rep, every week another opportunity to connect with others. Over time, it’s highly likely you’ll sharpen your skills and attract new readers (and friends!) along the way.

6. Subscriber count isn’t the only metric worth measuring.

Would I love 10k subscribers? Sure! And you better believe I’ll be celebrating when this newsletter hits 2k, but the numbers aren’t everything. (And thank goodness because Bang Voyage is still a baby as far as numbers go.)

Other signs of success that won’t populate in your dashboard: The familiar names in the comment section. The readers who turn into friends. The DMs after an essay. The invites to contribute or collaborate on another writer’s post.

Growth is exciting, and I’m all for it, but connection is the whole gd point.

7. You don’t need a huge audience to start making money.

I assumed monetization was only for creators with thousands of followers. Nah, girl! In the past year, I’ve landed a couple paid brand partnerships, been compensated to write for , and am earning extra income through affiliate links on ShopMy2. It’s not comparable to a full-time salary, but it did pay for me to take a staycation at Sunset Tower Hotel with a little extra shopping money. My point: you don’t have to wait until you “make it” to start getting paid for your work. Get that bag.

8. Two-four-six-eight, you really should collaborate.

Working with (and cheering on) others is how you let people in and get discovered. Honestly, I should do it more. My most-read post to date was one where I invited a dozen writers to share underwear recs lol. And perhaps the most fun: last September, I gave some of my favorite Substackers $500 of imaginary shopping money. Speaking of which, my birthday’s coming up…should we do that again?

9. You don’t have to write about one thing forever.

When I started this Substack, I was a new stay-at-home mom and pregnant with my second daughter. Everything I wanted to write about was motherhood-related. Of course! Now that my kids are past the baby phase, my hormones are (mostly) settled, and I’m ready to go back to work again, I'd rather write about other things.

Substack might continue putting me in the parenting category, but that doesn’t mean it’s the only thing I’m allowed to write about. Some weeks I want to write about career transitions. Other weeks I want to make moodboards or outfits or vent about an existential identity crisis. The best part about creating online is that you make the rules.

If you want to get started on Substack but don’t know what your niche is, don’t worry about it! You don’t have to have one. You only have to want to write.

10. This might become the thing you can’t stop thinking about.

Earlier this month, I was floating on my back in the middle of a lake on a beautiful summer day, but I would’ve happily toweled off to spend four hours alone on my laptop to write instead. That means something! Pay attention to what you can’t stop thinking about, even when you’re supposed to be taking a quote unquote summer break. It might just tell you more about your next chapter than you realize.

ICYMI…

• asked me to contribute to their baby-approved reading guide.

• I wrote about redefining independence, listing thirteen ways to find freedom without blowing up your life.

• Ever heard the expression, “suit up and show up”? This is what it means to me.

• It’s never been easier to dress like the Stratford Sisters.

Thank you so much for reading! Publishing this newsletter on a weekly basis is a true labor of l-o-v-e! If you enjoy Bang Voyage, I’d be so grateful for your support. A few easy ways to help:

• Like, comment, or share this post (every single one makes my entire day!)

• Buy me a coffee and fuel my caffeine addiction habit

• Or upgrade to a paid subscription (20% off annual subs for a few more days!)

• Follow me on Instagram 💚 (bc it’s fun to be friends on all the apps!)