One Year on Substack
learning to celebrate creative moments
Today marks a momentous occasion in my writer life: I’ve been on Substack for ONE YEAR!
And if I’ve learned one thing about the creative process this past year, it is to CELEBRATE every moment I step, sink into, and savor the creative moments of my life.
Celebrating is new for me, and something I’m perhaps strangely trying to get better at. Celebrating others? Of course! Hands down, I’m there to scream your name, throw confetti, voraciously clap, and add some “woo girl” to the voices in the audience. But for my big moments? I often blaze through them.
I would see an occasion go by, briefly nod at it, and then move on to the “next big thing.”
Be it a dream, a goal, or an offer—I’ve lived a lot of my creative life closing up shop on what I’ve done and trying to switch tracks quickly. As I’ve examined this past behavior, some of it came from the necessity of a job being over (like a theater contract would end and I would have to move on), and some of it came from a more frantic energy that if I didn’t move on swiftly, my momentum would get stuck.
I’m unlearning this pattern and pausing to celebrate. Today marks the first anniversary of a new internet home for my writing, and I’ve stayed committed to the process of writing and publishing pieces, when NO ONE ELSE ASKED ME TO SHOW UP HERE. That’s an important note, too. I am a highly responsible person (as in responsibility and “showing up” for people and my commitments are things I value). Still, I find it easier to do things for others than to do them for myself. For one year, and I hope many more to come, I’ve genuinely enjoyed writing in this space, and challenging myself to play here, to hit publish before I’m ready, and to read the work of others trying to do the same.
When I shut down my website a few years ago, I didn’t know if I’d ever return to a steady online writing practice again. I watched Substack unfold with much trepidation. There is a longer post I’ve already started drafting about the history of my writing online, but the short of it is: I wasn’t sure if Substack was the “place” for me. I’d long been sold on the idea of owning a “.com” website, and I had one, with all the bells and whistles! But that website started to feel costly and unmanageable, and I was never showing up to write there because it felt, well, lonely.
However, after watching rave reviews from my writing group about their experience on Substack, I decided to give it a try. A year ago, with sweaty palms and a pounding heart, I decided to create a new online space to share my long-form writing. And here we are, on piece number 30 (!!!) rounding out a year of not only writing, but sharing the work.
Thank you for supporting my work. Thank you for every comment and connection. I read all of them and respond to all of them. I know it takes time to read and write your thoughts. Thank you for sharing YOUR work with me.
I still believe that art can move hearts. I believe it is worth it to pursue our words, our crafts, our brushstrokes, our sketches, our wild and wondrous hopes. I believe we must pause and mark the time for ourselves, too, to honor the brave choice we make every time we turn a piece around to the crowd and say, “Hey, look— I made something here. I’d love to now offer it up to you.”
Thank you for receiving my offerings.
Below, I made a list of every piece I created this past year (links included). It’s incredible to see how small flutterings of ideas spread their wings across the page. I hope for many more next year.
If you're creating on Substack as well, please share one of your favorite pieces from last year in the comments!
Writing JOY,
Lindsay
A SUBSTACK RECAP! June 2024- June 2025
Supporting the Work & Feeling Seen
Hello dear ones, it is my great delight to celebrate one month of my book’s release with a blog hop! I was fortunate enough to have a group of brilliant creatives on my launch team, and it is a treat to see what stories poured from their pens.
Releasing the Book Baby
It’s BOOK LAUNCH DAY! Today marks the release of my book, and I had a kind, lovely thought today that I now have a new birthday to add to our family calendar. It is a remarkable feeling on an otherwise ordinary day for our family.
Don’t Make it Mean Something
There was a particular session in counseling that I will never forget. I was deep-diving into a pool of self-doubt and sorrow about how I reacted as a parent. I can’t remember the exact scenario, but genuine fear stood on the edge of my unspoken question: “Is this the time I super-screwed up the kids?”
Believing in an Old Dream
It’s late in the evening when I check my email before co-op day. I have a note from our school’s principal. She confirms that I’ll be speaking at Career Day and also notes: if you have "career gear" you can come in with, that would be great.
Rehearsing Tragedy
The warmth of my parent's touch steadied me as we approached my husband at the altar. It was my second time marrying Ryan, but I still buzzed with anticipation.
The Countdown to Book Launch Has Arrived!
I used to joke about how bad I was at math. As I try to re-learn and teach fourth-grade math to my daughter, I realize this “bad at math” still rings true. But the punchline was that because I chose a dance career, I was only required to count to 8, sometimes 16, and rarely 32. Ha! The number eight has reappeared in my life, and I will soon count down f…
The Good Cookie
Good cookie (noun): The quickest way to tell if a Marine has been on his or her best behavior is to locate the round, gold Good Conduct Medal attached to a red ribbon with a blue stripe down the middle pinned on their chest. The medal is awarded to any active-duty enlisted member of the United States military who completes three consecutive years of "ho…
How are You, really? A Stream of Consciousness Swinging on Mind-Ribbons
This is not the story I thought I’d be typing on one of my two “big working weekends” that I have left before my husband returns to his next 6 (!!!) credit hour class for his bachelor’s program.
What Worked and Didn't in 2024
I’ve been pondering this piece for weeks and am filing it under “I still need to write this to process.” I can’t tell you how many of my scribbled notebook pages and dozens of half-baked essay ideas don’t see the light, but this reflection feels poignant coming into a new year.
A Childlike Faith
"Those who say that having childlike faith means not asking questions haven't met too many children." - Rachel Held Evans
Treasure Hunting
My daughter gave me a handmade bowl for Christmas. I didn’t know how much I wanted to be a mom with a kid-made-and-painted bowl until I unwrapped it. Holding the fragile, lumpy, brightly bedecked dish in my hands caused my eyes to well with happy tears. She made it while thinking of me; she wrapped it and tucked it under our tree. And her face! While I …
The Evolution of a Fun Mom
As we turn into the tunnel on the highway our three-year-old pipes up from the back seat. “This tunnel is dawk and scaawee Dadda.” I turn and see his big blue eyes widen as we head into shadow.
5-7-5
Pssst! Hello, dear reader. I will slowly be adding to Wondering Together, a new series where I document some of the moments I wish to hold dear about life and learning alongside our children. Our family supports whichever education choice and style fits your family and is cheering you on. I hope you find a spark of wonder here that you may take into you…
One More
Somewhere between 1990 and 1998, I am ensconced in these pieces of furniture, with my parents.
a summer, celebrated
When you’re staring into the abyss of white space on your computer screen, urging words to come, I think you have a few choices:
Waging Conversations in the Wilderness
The back road stretches out before us as the edge of the midday sun glints through our windshield. I look back and check on the kids, they are in Phase 3 of our road trip protocol. They are loving every minute of being on their devices, absorbed in their favorite shows. I slide my phone into the front pocket of my travel bag, it is done from its Phase 1…
true, messy, beautiful, screwed up
The office door swings open again. I suck in a breath and hold it tight. I’m two steps away from being an over-inflated balloon, my patience stretched like a tight transparent layer. Burst me or let me float away. Our straw-haired three-year-old, Hunter, pushes a giant red pillow into the room and flops on it. “I just want to be with youuuu,” he cries f…
































Happy Substack birthday!!
So proud of you! I remember when you launched this last year.