Hello, bright, beautiful Earthlings. Remember me? I haven’t forgotten about you.
It’s been something like 549 days since we last spoke. In that time, at least 549,000 people have started Substacks, and I can’t think of one reason to continue mine.
Alas, logic isn’t part of this puzzle, so I thought I’d fire this baby up, take a spin around the block, make sure her chassis is lubed, and her steering isn’t veering.
When I put The Letter (which, yes, I threatened to rebrand 100 times and never did) on pause, I did so because:
a) It’s no small task writing a newsletter weekly;
b) What was happening for me internally wasn’t enjoyable to live through, let alone drag you along for.
So I reasoned, if I couldn’t show you all of me, I wouldn’t show you any of me.
How noble.
One of my greatest faults is crippling self-awareness. Or maybe it’s unwavering integrity. Actually… let’s be real, it’s self-annihilation. Remember the early days of The Letter when I publicly shamed myself for every typo?
That’s it! My crippling self-awareness just might be shame.
Speaking of shame… I’m a big self-help lady, but rarely a “mainstream self-help” lady. I take pleasure in hunting for off-the-beaten-path voices—the ones who aren’t on airport shelves. David Bedrick is one of those. His book The Unshaming Way is beautiful. He’s a light in every way.
Sometimes I imagine taking a page from the books of people who project one image—their brand—while a messier one runs unseen in the background.
No shade to those folks. I admire them—they’re attractive, aspirational—they show us what it looks like to live beautifully.
You know where to find that, and it’s not here.
…one moment, please. My self-awareness is waving frantically from the back:
You’re lying. Shit goes through your mind every second of every day that you don’t share. People tell you you appear confident and self-assured, but you’re not! If they only knew. You have more doubt than… (insert metaphor that makes sense and impresses people, but you can’t think of now, except for how “doubt” rhymes with “trout”).
Annnd, we’re back: if my greatest fault is crippling shameful-self-awareness, my greatest gift is my drive to share my whole, imperfect self with you.
Why?
Because the world isn’t getting less polished. Already, there’s a layer of Turtle Wax on everything we see, waiting to be buffed and detailed—so everything appears shinier and smoother than it really is.
I’m building a spot on the internet to celebrate the one-of-a-kind nature in all of us. While we’ve got tools and templates aplenty—and the innovations keep coming (hello, AI, which wasn’t here when The Letter began but is very much here now)—we mustn’t lose the irreplaceable beauty of humanity, and all its faults.
How noble.
As part of my plight, I’m sharing more of myself on Instagram. Turns out, what the world doesn’t want is more Substacks and talking-head videos—and I’m delivering both.
(Listen, if Henry Ford had asked the people what they wanted, we’d have faster horses—not cars. I couldn’t ignore the overused anecdote. So sue me.)
What’s more? I started a secret Instagram account, blocked all of you, and I've been posting daily. I’m still doing it—but the courage is naturally transferring to my main account, so I’m going with it.
Try it. It’s LIBERATING!
As a gift for sticking with my ramble, I offer these documentaries worth watching:
The Menendez Brothers on Netflix
Unknown Number on Netflix
Ruby and Jodi on HBO Max
Who Killed JonBenet Ramsey? on Netflix
American Nightmare on Netflix
aka Charlie Sheen on Netflix
If you have an art, craft, or tweaker project, pick it up while you watch one of these. It’s rather satisfying. My friend and super artist/muralist, Suz Bax, works her magic while listening to podcasts. Right, Suz?
I have long forgotten the details of my previous newsletters—the headers, colors, habits, patterns. Rather than go back in time, let’s start here: slow and steady, and without the embellishments. We can always add.
To whoever coined the term “fuck around and find out,” I owe you one. It’s appropriate here.
Thank you for joining me for another issue of The Letter—and more than anything, thank you for being whole, messy, and imperfectly YOU.
Until soon-ish,
Simone
*scoots back into my usual seat*
Welcome back Simone! Happy belated birthday 🎉