Is Substack My Shame Shelf?

I’ve finally figured out why I’m writing this Substack, and how I plan to moving forward.

(Yes, after this piece I wrote about who this Substack is for, this retreat I went on to decide whether to keep writing to Substack, this reveal of what I decided on that retreat and 1.5 years of weekly Substack posts.)

I think this Substack is my Shame Shelf (^TM?)

Here’s what (I think) that means to me:

I recently did an audit of everything I’ve written here thus far.

I was, I’ll confess, trying to see which posts attracted the most readership and/or new subscribers and/or comments. I was, once again, trying to decide if it’s “worth it” for me to keep up this weekly writing given the other projects I want/need to pursue.

I have not focused on Substack as a writing business like one needs to do in order to make money on this platform. I have not even been giving it the kind of attention required to intentionally build a larger audience for my other writing (there are tips, tricks and very necessary steps to make that happen here, too). I see slow, natural growth here and enjoy engaging with the few readers I hear from on the regular.

But when I looked back at all the writing I’ve done, I saw something extremely valuable from a personal growth stand point.

I have published things on this Substack that I never, ever thought I’d write for myself, let alone make public. Things like this:

And this:

And definitely this:

I love hearing that these pieces left an impact on you. But, there’s no way it’s greater than the impact they’ve left on me.

All the fear of sharing these thoughts and feelings used to live inside my body, and now it’s out. And it’s not just out in the form of words in a private therapy session. It’s out for me to see, revisit and, in a weird way, treat like my own personal trophy shelf.

First place in talking about your former body dysmorphia!

First place in being vocal about the pride you have as a woman without kids!

First place in releasing the shame of a career pivot!

(I always come in first because it’s only me racing!)

On a recent episode of the Second Hand Therapy podcast, Louie shared a quote from his therapist that absolutely stunned me. He said that she said:

“I think we can acknowledge that you have buried a lot more things than you realize, but we also need to remember that all those things are buried alive.”

Buried alive…

Being buried alive is one of the things I find most terrifying in the world. I don’t know why, and it’s too scary to try and figure out.

Something about visualizing buried-alive emotions like a buried-alive human (a buried-alive me!), clicked for me in a way that other ways of understanding emotional repression have not.

Then, I imagined how that same concept applies to shame. Suddenly, the things I feel shame about became these suffocating beings shoved inside corners of my body. I saw them pounding on the walls of my stomach. Kicking at my ribcage to break free. Screaming from the chambers of my heart. It was horrifying, but motivating, especially when I think about what’s gotten out. What I let out.

Some of the shame I’ve felt around my body size isn’t in there anymore. Same for all the shame I’ve experienced as a woman without kids.

I literally feel it when I think about those topics. There used to be this weight inside me (or, this scary trapped being begging for release??), and now it’s either not as heavy or not there at all. To test it, I can just re-read an essay I wrote. At the end, I don’t feel the panic of people knowing some truth I tried to hide for years, I feel relief and pride.

So, I made a list of some topics/fears/experiences that still feel heavy inside my body. Things like:

• The day I stopped dieting forever

• What makes me so afraid of confrontation?

• Why I wish I’d been a horny teenager

• I feel so bad that I ignored my books’ birthdays…

My new Substack content plan is to tackle these issues. Maybe weekly? Maybe bi-weekly? Maybe monthly? Moving forward, I’m going to focus less on meeting a self-imposed deadline and more on adding more trophies to my Shame Shelf (^TM?).

That’s the value, for me.

First place in releasing the buried-alive shame demons that live inside your stomach!

If it’s valuable for you, too, I’m so glad.

XO, J

This week’s Brave Confession: I’m taking more time than I planned to get the next draft of my book three submission materials done, which is making me feel slow and anxious, even though it’s making the writing much better.