I am a substack failure
and other thoughts on creativity in the digital age
Gather round, children. Let me share some humiliating vulnerable things with you:
This is a message for all my goal setting pals out there on Beyonce’s internet. I’m a goal setter. In most cases I’m a goal getter… MOST cases. One exception is social media: I fail at social media.
Technically, there’s no universal standard for social media success. We create our own bar. We have the ability to decide if we’ll keep it and when to change our standards. It just so happens that — to my detriment — my standards are really high.
I started this substack three years ago with the intentional goal of growing my subscriber count and getting a check mark. I’m an author, and one part of getting a good sized book deal is having a social media following.1 I focused too much on that top and made growing my social media base my main goal. I took those free “how to grow your following” workshops and bought books by influencers on how to grow your social media following because I wanted to write more books and I thought this is how publishers would determine if I’m publishable or not.
Substack: I’ve had this account for three years and have not met my subscriber count goals. I’m not even close to it.
Instagram: I’ve been active for almost a decade and haven’t reached my follower count goal. Every time I try to join the great IG exodus, I come back a few months later and, once again, try to grow my account.
TikTok: The irony is that I achieved a follower account goal on tiktok, but the weight of keeping up with content creation negatively impacted my mental health and took time away from my craft.
It took me a long time to accept that I have failed my obnoxious social media goals. Once I started accepting the reality, I realized that the definition of “success” to millenial in the digital age wasn’t a standard to live by.
Social media is a trillion dollar industry that covets your attention. It appeals to your brains chemistry by constantly releasing dopamine. Scientists once thought dopamine was the pleasure center of your brain, but new studies show that dopamine engages the desire to want.2 Your brian is not experiencing pleasure when you scroll through social media, it is making its home in the place of want. You want more videos of cats. You want more influencer content. You want more news. You want more and more and more.
I think there are content creators who make good quality content that’s focused on educating, equipping, and empowering the masses. They’re rare. I’m not one of them. ’Im not a brain rot influencer (thank God), but the fact that I believed being an influencer was more important that being a writer is the concern. I know I’m not alone in this. The digital age has us trading Descartes “I think, therefore I am” for “I’m seen, therefore I will.”
There’s the problem: will. It is no longer free when the currency is your attention that following standards set by big tech companies and the influencer market. When I focused on growing my platform to become an “influential writer” I gave away my free will. My creativity energy was spent on following trending, not exploring my internal vastness. I did all of that and still wasn’t good enough to meet the goals I set for myself in the past.
I’m naming to my secrets for two reasons: (1) so that you don’t fall into the same traps I did, and (2) because I’m tired of feeling ashamed for how I spent my ambition. We don’t need social media to be successful. I cheer on the folks and friends who have umpteenillion followers and mega platforms that get them big book deals. I support them while recognizing that I’m not them. I don’t know who taught me that there’s only one path to success, but I rebuke that teaching.
My first step in getting out of that mindset was meeting people IRL or via zoom sessions instead of hiding behind a social media ccount. I went to open mic nights, readings, and took writing classes. Other writers took me under their wings and helped me navigate my writing career. I taught them some non-toxic influencer tips to help them with promotion and press release. With the help of mentors and guides, I became a Poet Laureate, which opened doors of trust within our local writing community. I started bringing in trail blazing events and establishing literary programs in multiple city. I attended acting workshops to help my poetry performance. I’m an opening act at concerts. I’ve gained new subscribers to substack (and I’m so grateful you’re here!) but I didn’t hit that obnoxious goal I set. And instagram? I lost 100+ followers. I deleted my tiktok account.
Last week, I attended a poetry performance at a local family resouce center. Unbeknownst to me, the performance was the conclusion of an 8-week poetry workshop created by the staff members and inspired by a separate project I was working on. I didn’t know this was happening! I got an invitation the day before and made time in my schedule to attend. Witnessing the genius of everyone in the room was my honor. I sat in that room and experienced all the ways poetry is a life giving essence. The way I cried.
I see, hear, and interact in a lot of conversations about AI. I don’t like AI, it’s stollen my intellectual property. I’m sure I could ask some AI bot to write in my style and get upset with how accurate it is. The purpose of AI isn’t to further humanity but to dumb and dull people and traffick them further into the enslavement fantasies of this new gilded age. It’s not that I think conversations of AI are a distraction to the masses; I just don’t want them to distract me from the work I’m doing. Social media a trillion dollar industry focused on monopolizing your attention to mine your data, keep you addicted to their platforms, and lower your mental capacity for engaging in real life.3 Every time I want to argue with someone about AI, I have to remind myself that arguing with this one person doesn’t add to my creative life nor does it restore humanity in the communities of people who deserve my care. I’ve failed at achieving the goal I created for myself at a time when I understanding of success was a dangerously narrow path. Failures aren’t deadends, they’re roadsigns directing us on a better journey.
I’m a substack failure, and I like that about myself.
One part doesn’t determine the whole sum.
Yousef AMF, Alshamy A, Tlili A, Metwally AHS. Demystifying the New Dilemma of Brain Rot in the Digital Era: A Review. Brain Sci. 2025 Mar 7;15(3):283. doi: 10.3390/brainsci15030283. PMID: 40149804; PMCID: PMC11939997.
Substack is social media. Argue with ya mama.