The end of the beginning

Social media is a mixed bag.

Substack was a great starting place for me to start writing, it’s how I learned the fear of the PUBLISH button. LinkedIn introduced me to dozens of social entrepreneurs when I moved to Atlanta without a job. Instagram is home to my favorite photographers and friends I love to keep up with.

At the same time, I have utterly failed at creating on these platforms. On Substack, my repeated attempts to publish consistently have failed countless times, resulting in a whopping 12 subscribers (mostly friends and family) for about 2 years. On LinkedIn, my robust, 6-month cold outreach strategy brought zero business to my client despite consistent posting, outreach, and engagement. On Instagram, the comments and DM’s mostly consist of my mom’s friends or my friends’ moms. (But honestly, I appreciate it.)

As a hobbyist or a professional, there is a price to pay this game. As long as fickle humans like me are behind the wheel, success is not guaranteed. For a long time, I justified my perceived failure by trying to reset my expectations — delete the apps from time to time, ignoring the performance of content — but as long as I am presented with engagement metrics, I will be swimming upstream to keep my peace.

Outside of creative outlets and professional commitments, however, things are changing. We moved to a new city, and I got a new job. My attention has shifted from digital community to tangible community, from balancing family to building a family, and thinking about God to walking with God. In the most anti-climactic way, I feel the winds are changing direction.

The best way I can describe where I’m at in my creative journey is like this: A man is walking through a vast landscape, the atmosphere is innocent, the pace is steady, but the gentle breeze simply begins to blow sideways. For the man walking, there is no path, there is no map, there is no landmark he is walking toward, and there is no time he is aware of. For this man, the easiest, most logical, and most intuitive thing to do is change his direction and walk with the breeze.

I will continue walking. Writing in public has become central to how I see and process the world, and when I write, I am being formed into the type of person I want to become. But for now, the direction is away from platforms.

I wouldn’t trade the frustration, the fear, or the failure of the past two years for anything — creating in public has taught me so much about myself and what I value (for better or worse).

I take time to share this so that you, if you happen to feel a burden as a creative on social media, may remember to give yourself grace as a human in real world. There is grace to fail, grace to be inconsistent, and grace to change directions if you feel so led.

I also share because I like closure. Platforms have played a role in this chapter of my life, and now they will be playing a smaller role. Sometimes I need to hear myself say something, or see myself write it.

I plan to continue writing on my ++website++. You can’t subscribe, but you can visit any time you want. I like to thing of it as a home, and the front door is always open. To send me a letter, write to me at ++gcepica@gmail.com.++

The story continues!