The choice to start this Substack had been an on-and-off contemplation for weeks before I let anyone into the journey of it.
I started writing, but nobody knew because I wasn’t committed yet; I didn’t know if I could trust my impulse or not.
A voice of fear barking in my brain asked… Am I even an okay writer? Will they want to follow me here? Is there any point? Will I be any good at it?
The primitive lizard-part of my brain, or the amygdala area- was not happy about my choice to commit to 2 weekly articles + serving an ever-growing audience with my words. That’s because it’s the reptilian brain, and it’s job is to keep me safe- and doing something I’ve never done before for all of the world to see felt like a threat.
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