just happy to be at the table

three months on substack, one month in mourning.

TW: domestic violence.

Yesterday marked three months of me being on Substack. Professionally, I’m a marketer, and I’m naturally a very goal-oriented person as it is, so I generally had an idea of what I wanted to achieve here by this point. Not quite KPIs, moreso “it would be cool if…”.

What’s happened has far exceeded my expectations. To date we are 254 subscribers strong with 34 posts under our belt, and I’m genuinely excited for what the rest of the year has in store for us here. Turns out creating content calendars and strategies for yourself is much more fun than doing it for “fast-paced/high-growth” tech startups. Who knew! Jokes aside, this cozy creative space has provided me a reprieve that, three months I go, I’d have absolutely no way of knowing I’d need.

Today marks one month since my best friend and his mom were killed by his dad for reasons I cannot and will not ever understand. I’m still having a hard time wrapping my head around the extremely fucked up situation, even 2+ weeks post-funeral, but I’m reminding myself that adjusting to a reality without your best friend of 27 years (I’m 31 for reference) won’t happen overnight.

On Thursday, his landlord called me to let me know she was finally able to get back into the house and set aside some of his belongings for me, so I’m finding peace and solace in knowing that not all of his personal belongings will end up in a dumpster and that can I share them with mutually grieving friends across the country. I didn’t know it was possible to feel so desperately heartbroken and elated at the same time, but apparently it is.

I saw a quote recently that said “Grief only exists where love once did,” and it’s very true. Amidst varying spikes of anger and shock and sadness, I’ve also found a deep sense of gratitude. After all, how many people can say they’ve had the same best friend since kindergarten? Outside of siblings, it’s rare to have someone our age who’s seen every version of ourselves and welcomed them unabashedly, and I’m one of the lucky ones. I’ve always prided myself on the way I show up for and take care of the people I love, and this has experience has made me realize one of the reasons I’m able to do that is because he always did for me. You can’t want a village without being part of one.

I’m not sure what tomorrow holds, but for now, I’m just happy to be at the table.

Thanks for being here with me.

x Anna