I'm Scared to Do This, But I'm More Scared Not To
At 22, I was scared to leave my mother’s house with three babies and no plan. But I was more scared of who I’d become if I stayed.
At 51, I was scared to leave my marriage. But I was more scared of disappearing completely inside it.
Last year, I was scared to resign from my federal job with no safety net. But I was more scared of betraying everything I knew to be true.
Every time, the fear of leaving was enormous.
Every time, the fear of staying was bigger.
Today, I’m doing it again.
If you’re reading this, you’re one of 958 people who’ve chosen to follow my writing over the past eight months. That means something to me.
You didn’t follow me for a polished brand or a perfect content calendar. You followed me because something in my writing resonated. Because I’m naming a pattern that many of us are living:
Learning that staying in places that require us to shrink is more dangerous than the fear of leaving.
I came to Substack originally to build a coaching business. Zero people were interested. (The universe was clear on that one.)
But 824 of you showed up when I started writing about the pattern I’ve lived my entire life—leaving an abusive home at 22 with three babies, leaving a marriage, leaving faith communities, and most recently, resigning from federal service because I couldn’t serve the new administration with integrity.
This year, I’m returning to where I started: writing my memoir.
And I’m doing something that scares me: I’m turning on paid subscriptions.
Why This Feels Vulnerable
I’m not consistent. I write when I have something to say. I go quiet when I’m in the hard middle of something. I’ve never been good at performing productivity.
But I also know this book needs to exist. And I can’t write it properly while scrambling for survival income.
So I’m asking for support.
Not because I think you owe me anything. But because some of you have asked how to support this work. And because I’m trying to practice what I preach: asking for what I need, even when it’s terrifying.
What Changes (And What Doesn’t)
If you stay on the free tier (no judgment, genuinely):
You’ll keep getting my essays and reflections
Nothing changes from what you have now
You’ll still be part of this community
If you upgrade to paid ($7/month or $70/year):
You’ll get early access to memoir chapter excerpts as I write them
Behind-the-scenes writing process (the messy middle, the breakthroughs, the doubts)
Monthly exclusive essay or reflection
First access to the finished book
The knowledge that you’re making this book possible
Founding Members ($150/year):
Everything in paid tier
Acknowledged in the book (if you want)
Signed copy when it’s published
Quarterly Q&A or “office hours”
What I Can Promise
I can’t promise I’ll publish every week on a perfect schedule.
I can promise:
Honesty about what it takes to write this book
Chapter excerpts as I complete them
The real story, not the highlight reel
That your support directly enables me to write instead of hustle
If that’s enough, I’d be honored to have you as a paid subscriber.
If not, I’m genuinely grateful you’re here at all.
Why Now
Because I’m writing a book about women who refuse to betray themselves just to survive.
And right now, I’m standing at my own threshold:
I can keep writing for free while scrambling for income (staying).
Or I can ask for support to write this properly (leaving).
I was scared to do this. But I’m more scared of what happens if I don’t finish this book.
So here we go.
Thank you for being here. Whether you subscribe or not, whether you can afford it or not, whether this is your season to support or not—your presence matters.
Let’s see what happens when we stop shrinking.