1. D: Diagnosis (calling myself out because I’m nothing if not self-aware)

2. O: Orders (as in doctor’s orders—but the recs I’m personally prescribing)

3. S: Second opinion (you help me work something out)

4. E: Examination (a little deeper, a little more reflective, a little more in my feels)

If you’re new here, I’m Ashley: creator, editor, and former nurse putting my BSN to good use (diagnosing myself on the internet and prescribing your next Amazon find, obviously). Whether you found me through Substack or via my shameless promos on my other platforms, I’m so glad you’re here! Without further ado, let’s get into this week’s dose.

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Diagnosis: symptoms currently under review

On today’s episode of what the hell is wrong with Ashley this week, we’re analyzing how in the world I’ve lived without a trash can for an entire year.

When Cam moved to Oklahoma and I downsized from our two-bedroom to a studio apartment down the hall, my moving mantra was a very cutthroat “everything must go.” There’s truly nothing like squeezing into a 500 square foot apartment to make you regret buying anything ever, especially when those purchases take up precious floor space that you, quite frankly, don’t have. Trying to find a home for my 13-gallon trash can that wasn’t blocking an appliance or encroaching into my living/sleeping space felt like the in-home equivalent of trying to find a parking spot at Trader Joe’s on a Sunday.

After trashing the can, I had every intention of finding a compact replacement that was easier on the eyes, but of course, I had to find the right one. In the meantime, I resorted to an equally visually jarring Hefty bag hooked on a cabinet handle—a system that was supposed to be temporary. It wasn’t until eight months into my lease and one TikTok hate comment later that it even occurred to me that finding an aesthetic-looking trash can fell off of my to-do list, and at that point, I said, well… we’ve made it this far!!!

With that in mind, let’s add if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it syndrome to my ever-growing list of diagnoses: the tendency to accidentally solve a problem with a mediocre solution and then completely lose interest in finding a better one.

Was a Hefty bag hanging from a cabinet handle my dream trash setup? No. But was it holding trash? Also yes. And for me, once something crosses the threshold from “problem” to “technically functional,” my brain has a remarkable ability to stop asking questions.

Orders: recs rooted in trial & error

• If you need an excuse to revisit your Aritzia cart: Last Friday, my sister and I both ended up on separate emergency Aritzia runs (what can I say? we share one singular brain cell at this point). As we were comparing post-purchase notes, it was brought to my attention that Katie qualified for the Clientele sale and Little Miss Me did not make the cut this year. Turns out, I simply did not spend as much at Aritzia in these past 12 months as I thought, but if you’re one of the lucky mfs who did, 1) I envy you, and 2) I need you to shop these tried-and-true Aritzia favorites in my honor. While you’re scoring 20–50% off everything, just know I’m over here, tearfully cheering you on from the shackles of full-pricedom.

  • Homestretch tee: or truly anything from the homestretch line if you want comfy and put-together basics that last

  • Cropped chore jacket: this one’s priceyyyy without a sale, hence why I picked mine up during BFCM, and I can’t tell you how much I reach for it—perfect for office days, nights on the town, and beyond

  • V-neck sports bra: the same flattering fit as my beloved Alo sports bra, but softer and more comfy for lounging

  • Mid-thigh shorts: because Daisy Dukes make me feel exposed and jorts aren’t always the vibe… I just picked these up in blue and white last week for the summer + they’re already fairly priced, which I appreciate

  • SuperSnug Puff: I know it’s getting swampy out and the last thing we want to think about is our winter parkas, but I’m telling you… after going on an absolute journey to find the right parka last year, I can confidently say that this jacket is the most luxurious investment you can make if you’re a cold-weather warrior (size up because these are, in fact, snug, but the shape is nice and feminine compared to most parkas!)

• If you’re too lazy for book club: Love Island is back, which means the internet is suddenly funny again, and I now have a talking point when I meet new friends in the wild. If you’re new to the Love Island universe, this is going to be the ultimate hear me out plea. When you watch the first episode, you’ll certainly think to yourself, there’s no way this is the show that everyone’s talking about. Just like you got past the chaos of Game of Thrones, you’ll get past the cheesy intros, near-immediate group makeouts, and messy challenges (seriously, who cleans all of that up). Clocking in as a viewer is (at the very least) entertaining, but to me, the real fun starts when the episode ends and the parodies, think pieces, and deep dives on social media begin. With six episodes a week filmed in real time, you really do get to know these people, and I’m telling you… the commentary makes it all worth it.

Second opinion: musings for the group chat

Calling all the cool girls who live in Tulsa (niche, perhaps; relevant, certainly)! Ya girl is moving in t-minus one week, and as we get unpacked and settled, I want to hear from you… how do you like it, what area do you live in, where are the cute coffee shops, and where are we getting our nails done? Any and all recs are appreciated as I get my bearings and start exploring our new home :’)

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Examination: reflections, realizations, & reminders

Despite all odds, we did, in fact, make last week’s going-away get-together a thing (shoutout to my girl Maria for hosting and making sure the moment happened, I love your work!). As we were throwing back vodka (gag) shots (gag), we toasted to the seven years I lived in Chicago, and I put a little too much faith in my favorite tubing mascara to not leak down my face.

Chicago has been my home for most of my adulthood and has seen me through it all: night shifts at Lurie, sunburns in the Playpen, office commutes to West Loop, GA residencies at Lolla, post-work patio margs, and too many Rock Wrap & Roll crab rangoon orders to count. And while it’s always been the plan to leave Chicago, Chicago is not an easy place to leave (especially this time of year).

There’s so much about Chicago I’ll miss, but for the sake of time, I present the 5 things I’ll miss most about Chicago from a girl who’s in the middle of her farewell tour:

1. The lakefront: Feeling suffocated by the hustle and bustle of the city and need some air? Chicago lakefront. Need a Saturday activity to kill some time before your reservation at Parlor? Chicago lakefront? Looking for a picnic spot to kiki with the girls on a Thursday? Chicago lakefront. It’s truly Chicago’s most iconic flex, in my opinion.

2. Summer patio culture: Nobody does “it’s 72 degrees, your commitments suddenly don’t matter, and we must be outside immediately” quite like Chicago. The collective urgency to secure an outdoor table after a brutal winter is what bonds us all.

3. A good coffee shop on every block: When I tell you I’ve been deeply spoiled by my ability to walk five minutes in any direction and land on a coffee shop with the best iced latte I’ve ever had… I mean it.

4. The food: Deciding that I want literally any cuisine and have multiple excellent options within a 15-minute radius is the ultimate luxury, and future me is already missing having such easy access to Ranalli’s Hot Honey Soppressata Pizza.

5. The people I can’t pack in my suitcase: Because it turns out leaving a place is a whole hell of a lot easier than leaving the people who made it feel like home. I’m not crying, it’s just the shot of Malort I’m choking back, thanks for asking!

That’s your dose for the week… see you back for your follow-up in seven days! If you had a good time, hit subscribe to support my work and stay connected with me (it’s free)!

1. D: Diagnosis (calling myself out because I’m nothing if not self-aware)

2. O: Orders (as in doctor’s orders—but the recs I’m personally prescribing)

3. S: Second opinion (you help me work something out)

4. E: Examination (a little deeper, a little more reflective, a little more in my feels)

If you’re new here, I’m Ashley: creator, editor, and former nurse putting my BSN to good use (diagnosing myself on the internet and prescribing your next Amazon find, obviously). Whether you found me through Substack or via my shameless promos on my other platforms, I’m so glad you’re here! Without further ado, let’s get into this week’s dose.

Subscribe now

Diagnosis: symptoms currently under review

On today’s episode of what the hell is wrong with Ashley this week, we’re dissecting this morning’s attempt to make my bed.

I’ve been in an on-and-off-again relationship with making my bed for my entire life (my mom can vouch for this). I love blaming my 6-year-old, slightly-overweight-but-don’t-tell-her-I-said-that kitty, Gizmo, on the days when I realize that my rustled covers are creeping into the back of my Google Meet background during my 1 p.m. CST meeting. How could I displace a cozy, sleeping loaf for the sake of a buttoned-up morning routine? I’m not a monster.

But one thing remarkably more consistent than my decision-making on the bedding front is my ability to start a project and abandon it before getting it over the finish line. So while a stranger might see a half-made bed, I see the aftermath of an ADHD-ridden woman who started multitasking while brushing her teeth and encountered at least three more pressing priorities before the comforter could make it across the finish line.

And with that in mind, let’s add almost done syndrome to my ever-growing list of diagnoses: the chronic belief that getting 75% of the way there is basically the same thing as finishing, and that Future Ashley will surely be thrilled to handle the remaining 25%.

Orders: recs rooted in trial & error

• If you’re in the market for a new crush: In case you live under a rock and haven’t heard of Off Campus yet, I’m here to report that I have joined a cult where it is my sworn duty to spread the good word of Garrett Graham and Dean Di Laurentis. Yes, everyone and their mother is watching this show on Amazon Prime, and yes, I’m here to report that it’s worth it, especially if you need a little escapism from the horrors of the real world. Sure, there are some cheesy moments (minimal, worth overlooking), and sure, the guys in this show are a far cry from the hockey players I experienced as a D1 halflete (they’re men written by a woman, after all), but let me tell you: This show is doing something to me that I haven’t experienced since watching season 1 of Outer Banks during the pandemic. Bring back casts where everyone is hot. Bring back shows where I’m just as invested in the friendships as I am in the steamy relationships. Bring back soundtracks that keep the fun going far past the end credits. I’m already embarking on my second watch and would be remiss not to try to influence you to do the same.

• If you need to gently lock in: Every couple of weeks, I’ll test my brain to see if it can handle listening to Taylor Swift while writing emails, and every single time, I am reminded that I am the type of person who cannot listen to lyrics or podcasts while I’m working. From an entertainment standpoint, sure, I can do it. But the risk of my brain adopting a bridge and turning my intro into “I hope this email finds you All Too Well (10 Minute Version)” is too much of a risk. I always find myself coming back to this Productive Morning playlist on Spotify, and when I tell you always, I literally turn this on and get brought back to the days where I was studying congenital heart defects in my junior year of nursing school at the library at midnight, hours before my peds final. This playlist got me through patho, ACLS prep, applying to The Everygirl, and almost every creative venture since. Once I hit play, I enter a flow state that will be in the credits of my future memoir.

• If you’re looking to up your errand efficiency: My mom has absolutely earned her title of Bag Lady over the years, so when I go home to Michigan to visit, purses and bags rarely make it onto my packing list. This past Thanksgiving, I found myself home for the holidays, purse-less, and desperate for a bag to take to Target. She tossed me this Lululemon sling bag, and as soon as it was on my person, we both knew she wasn’t getting this one back (yerrrr comin’ home with me). Over the past few months, this bag has solidified itself as the errand bag. I don’t always need to schlep around with my laptop-carrying work tote, and on days where I need to carry more than just a wallet and my Ole Henriksen lip treatment (think: headphones, water bottle, Kindle, and camera), I’m reaching for my trusty Lululemon crossbody bag which is the perfect 3L companion for a trip to pilates, a day of errands, and bar hopping on a Saturday with the girls. She’s roomy, she’s easy on the eyes, and she filled a gap in my purse collection I didn’t even know I had.

Second opinion: musings for the group chat

Calling all the girlies who care about the aesthetics as much as reliability…

I haven’t had a vehicle since moving to Chicago in 2019, and I’ve done pretty well without one. As someone who has beef with parking structures and racked up a few parking tickets during my Ann Arbor days, it truly wasn’t worth the hassle of having one in a walkable city when Uber exists.

That said, my Chicago days are coming to an end this month (eeeep!), and that means my days as a car-less baddie are rapidly approaching. I won’t do any car shopping until I touch down in Oklahoma, but as I’m doing my research, I need the tea. Tell me what you drive, what you love about it, and what annoys you about it. I want the unfiltered owner review. During my Michigan days, I was a Jeep girl, but I’m broadening my horizons in the name of doing what makes the most sense. I’m seeing some positive chatter about the Mazda CX-5, Toyota 4Runners, and the Volvo XC-60 (or 40???), but I am also curious about Broncos/the Bronco Sport. From one girlie to another… any type of advice is greatly appreciated because I have not been in the car game for a minute.

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Examination: reflections, realizations, & reminders

As I’m prepping to hightail it out of Chicago, one thing on my very lengthy (and borderline too-optimistic) to-do list is to throw myself a going-away party of sorts. I’m not a big planner (or host), and my friends and I tend to limit our birthday, life milestone, and happy moment celebrations to dinner and drinks. Not to say that I’m over or ungrateful for the dinner-and-drinks song and dance, which is typically my idea of a good time… but I really want to give a stronger tribute to the closing of this chapter.

It won’t be big (most of my friends have left Chicago at this point minus my core group that I see weekly), it won’t be too elaborate, and I promise I’ll shut up about it once it’s done. But as a person whose last six birthdays blend together because I never put much thought into how I wanted to celebrate myself—and who is secretly a little sad about it—I’m going full Partiful, an on-brand theme, and an intentional moment that says, “damn, what a ride.”

I don’t want to look back at this whirlwind period and only see the moving quotes, suitcases, and the quiet that’ll surely hit me like a truck on my American flight to OKC.

Because if I’ve learned anything lately, it’s that chapters don’t come with built-in bookends. Sometimes you have to be the one who decides a moment deserves celebrating and hits send on the calendar invite.

And maybe that’s what I’ve been missing all these years. Not bigger parties or more elaborate plans—just the willingness to pause long enough to acknowledge when something mattered. And this Chicago chapter has certainly earned itself a top spot on my “things worth celebrating” list.

1. D: Diagnosis (calling myself out because I’m nothing if not self-aware)

2. O: Orders (as in doctor’s orders—but the recs I’m personally prescribing)

3. S: Second opinion (you help me work something out)

4. E: Examination (a little deeper, a little more reflective, a little more in my feels)

If you’re new here, I’m Ashley: creator, editor, and former nurse putting my BSN to good use (diagnosing myself on the internet and prescribing your next Amazon find, obviously). Whether you found me through Substack or via my shameless promos on my other platforms, I’m so glad you’re here! Without further ado, let’s get into this week’s dose.

Subscribe now

Diagnosis: symptoms currently under review

On today’s episode of what the hell is wrong with Ashley this week, we’re dissecting the butter bell currently sitting on my kitchen counter.

I grew up in an I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter! household that occasionally swapped in my favorite dupe-of-the-dupe of all time: Butter It’s Not! So when I tell you that I had no business using my Prime delivery privileges to get a butter bell delivered last year just because a beautiful woman on TikTok told me to, I mean it.

To absolutely no one’s surprise, Miss Bell hasn’t housed butter a single day during her tenure under my roof. But after a few months of leaving her empty and facing the hard truth that I was never going to become a butter bell person, I found an alternate use for her that perfectly sums up who I am to my core. She now houses my emergency stash of McDonald’s ketchup packets and has gotten employee of the month for nine months and counting.

And with that in mind, let’s add performative adulthood syndrome to my ever-growing list of diagnoses: the phenomenon of having Nancy Meyers aspirations with Ronald McDonald follow-through.

Orders: recs rooted in trial & error

• If you’re not beating the “outfit repeater” allegations: Listen, I’m all about an outfit formula that you can turn to time and time again (see: Aritzia chore jacket, homestretch tee, Agolde jeans, and black bootie heels), but nothing beats the high that comes with having a ready-to-show-off fit from your latest trip to Abercrombie. For the girls trying not to spend $1000 a month on clothes that you end up being lukewarm on anyway, I neeeeeed you to consider a clothing rental service. Yes, people use it, and I promise you the number is a lot higher than you think. I’m a Nuuly girl (they have a lot of stuff from Anthro, Free People, and Reformation), but I’ve also heard great things about FashionPass and Rent The Runway. So if you’re wondering, “How is everyone affording clothes in this economy?” I’m telling you… we’re renting, baby. Stay tuned for my TikTok haul later this week because this month’s box is honestly my best work.

• If the Sunday reset humbles you every time: The same people who built the world around mornings are the same people who coined the term “Sunday Reset,” and in the ripe year of 2026, I am no longer succumbing to unrealistic productivity standards. An object in motion stays in motion, so last week I tried a Friday reset instead of a Sunday one as a “you can’t play outside until you get your chores done” tactic, and I genuinely can’t recommend it enough. My Fridays are pretty hectic (doing therapy on your lunch break is not for the weak), but the vibes are always good because freedom is just a few emails and a trauma dump away. So while I physically logged off around 3 p.m., I stayed mentally clocked in, put on a fun playlist, and kept the momentum going. I threw in a load of laundry, started the dishwasher, did a quick vacuum, addressed the mountain of cardboard boxes that accumulated in my doorway, emptied the litter box, and I’m telling you guys—I didn’t hate it as much as I do on a Sunday when the scaries are already making me physically ill.

• If you don’t have a signature scent (but want one): There’s something about the 20% discount and scarcity mindset of the Sephora Sale that makes all of my financial reasoning go out the window, but even a broken clock is right twice a day, so I come bearing a fun purchase that actually solves a problem. When my friends gifted me a Le Labo perfume for my birthday, I spent two whole months adding “go to Le Labo in Gold Coast” as an item on my to-do list before stepping out onto the streets in the name of testing scents and, importantly, seeing how they wear on my skin. I landed on Another 13 (a musky skin scent that I deem to be Glossier You’s older, more sophisticated sister), but that process was honestly a pain in the ass. In the last Sephora Sale, I picked up not one, but two perfume sampler sets. They’re such a great way to test and sit with scents, and after you find your fav, you can redeem a full-size bottle with the provided coupon. My scent collection is on the rise, and I’m about to be unstoppable.

Second opinion: musings for the group chat

Calling all the girlies who’ve got moving down to a science. You’d think that after moving 13 times in 12 years, I’d have learned a thing or two about packing up a space and relocating with some of my sanity left, but I regret to inform you that somehow(???) every time it simply got worse.

But move number 14 will be different. I’m joining my fiancé in good ole Oklahomie (yee haw, I suppose!) and will be doing a multi-state move in a month or so. I’m getting movers to physically pack up my furniture and drive it south, but I need your most unhinged packing tips to make the week before my departure suck a little bit less. I already acquired some blue tarp bags off Amazon that suspiciously look like body bags (nursing girlies, you know exactly what I’m talking about), but drop your best moving tips in the comments. My last two brain cells thank you in advance.

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Examination: reflections, realizations, & reminders

On the topic of nursing… a little birdie recently asked me if I missed working in healthcare, and I replied with a guttural “absolutely not” while envisoning this meme of a man breaking free from his chains.

Some context but also a story for another day: I low-key applied to nursing school… by accident. After having so many people in my ear telling me how great (read: stable) a career it was, I ignored my screaming gut and gaslit myself through pharmacology finals, boards (NCLEX in 75 girls WYA), night shifts, and the transition from adult ER to pediatric ER. I really did try to love it, and despite the pre-shift nausea that followed me from my first clinical shift to my last four hours in triage before jumping ship, I take pride in knowing that I busted my ass and never let my “this is not for me” feelings cloud how I showed up at the bedside… ever.

And while I’m glad I no longer suffer from crippling pre-work anxiety, I’d be lying if I said there weren’t things that I miss about being a nurse. So in the spirit of leaving room for nuance, I present the five things I miss about nursing:

1. Being able to pick up overtime to compensate for my poor financial decisions. Dropped too much $$$ at the Alo sale? We’re short-staffed (surprise!!!), and you’re one 4-hour shift away from making up for it!

2. Placing IVs. What can I say… the feeling of getting a flash on the person who claimed they were a hard stick and a satisfying flush? Don’t threaten me with a good time.

3. The friendships. There’s truly nothing that can bring two people closer than the shared experience of a trainwreck shift that ended in a code brown (at 6:55 AM, because why the hell not) or the hospital tea that is piping hot every. single. time.

4. Clocking out and being DONE. Yes, I still have the occasional nursing-related nightmare years later, but operationally speaking, there was something deeply freeing about giving report, handing off your assignment, and knowing your job quite literally no longer existed until your next shift.

5. Scrub culture: Oh, Ashley’s late, she’s throwing a fit! The fit in question? My Lurie Children’s Hospital tee over a Lululemon long sleeve, Figs joggers, and Crocs. Absolutely ate down every single time.

And while the answer is still a very firm “no, I don’t miss nursing,” I think I can sum up what I do miss into one singular mic drop moment:

I do miss the version of me who could survive it.

1. D: Diagnosis (calling myself out because I’m nothing if not self-aware)

2. O: Orders (as in doctor’s orders—but the recs I’m personally prescribing)

3. S: Second opinion (you help me work something out)

4. E: Examination (a little deeper, a little more reflective, a little more in my feels)

If you’re new here, I’m Ashley: creator, editor, and former nurse putting my BSN to good use (diagnosing myself on the internet and prescribing your next Amazon find, obviously). Whether you found me through Substack or via my shameless promos on my other platforms, I’m so glad you’re here! Without further ado, let’s get into this week’s dose.

Subscribe now

Diagnosis: symptoms currently under review

On today’s episode of what the hell is wrong with Ashley this week, we’re dissecting my unwavering ability to over-order on Uber Eats to make myself feel 1% less guilty for my occasionally poor financial decisions.

Take Tuesday’s sushi delivery, for instance. I’d imagine that most women who live by themselves would settle pairing their Godzilla role with, I don’t know, one singular order of Crab Rangoon? But somewhere between “I really shouldn’t be spending money like this” and “I deserve nice things,” I did some mental gymnastics and landed on the idea that if I added a second order of Crab Rangoon, I’d be able to heat it up in the air fryer tomorrow and call it meal prep. Turning my guilty pleasure into a productivity hack, if you will.

And with that in mind, let’s add justification stacking to my ever-growing list of diagnoses.

Orders: recs rooted in trial & error

• If you’re not on the matcha train yet: To the matcha haters of the world who stubbornly cross their arms and shout into the void that it tastes like grass, I raise you this: Do you like the taste of espresso when it’s not in a latte? I genuinely ask because I also don’t like matcha if I’m raw dogging it either… but when my plastic surgeon had me switching from coffee to green tea in 2022 post-nose job for its anti-inflammatory and antioxidant benefits, I got crafty and have since solidified matcha lattes in my caffeine-to-survive starting lineup. My most recent obsession with the $9 strawberry matcha latte from Layla & Ringos had me acting desperate to recreate it in the comfort of my own home, so I’ve resorted to some newly drastic measures a la Jeff Bezos that I won’t shut up about. If you’re also in the market to lock in on the matcha front, may I suggest this beginner’s kit, some oat milk, this probably-not-good-for-you-but-essential strawberry syrup, and some freeze-dried strawberries for an at-home version that hits every time? I regret to report that the sifter, bamboo whisk, and spouted bowl do, in fact, change everything, and I’ve never felt more alive.

• If you need to put yourself in blue-light jail: As a self-proclaimed night owl, I’m painfully aware that pushing my bedtime is usually the segue to an impending downward spiral because with late nights come later mornings, less self-care, less prep… you get the gist. In a world that favors the early risers, sometimes I have to treat myself like a toddler when it comes to falling asleep at a decent hour. One of the best things I’ve introduced to my nighttime routine in the last three years was listening to Harry Potter on Audible for some low-stim entertainment. I’m not disciplined enough to abandon my nighttime scroll entirely, but it’s a whole hell of a lot easier to cut it short when I’m transitioning from one form of entertainment to another. Especially when that second form of entertainment is the adult version of a bedtime story. There’s just something a lot less daunting about resting my eyes and hearing the tea from Harry/Hermione/Ron than being obliterated by my inner monologue, and without fail, my mind will blissfully wander elsewhere and into dreamland before the clock strikes 60 minutes on the in-app timer.

• If you’re willing to drop $$$ for a glow up: My botox schedule is playing in my face right now, and the TLDR is this: To make sure I’m following proper dosing schedules and getting optimal results when it reallllly matters (read: our fall 2026 wedding) I’m holding off until August to re-dose, and ya girl is feeling it. So in the meantime, I’m upgrading my red light therapy situation. I swapped out my old Dr. Dennis Gross mask for this CurrentBody one, which is checking all of my boxes: the tech is there, the comfort is unmatched, and the strap doesn’t rip my hair out every time I decide to multitask with it (I’m talking to you, Dennis). I can’t speak on results yet, but I’m having a good time and will report back when I’m unrecognizable (positive).

Second opinion: musings for the group chat

Calling all the girlies with TASTE: I’m (once again) tapping on you to help me pick out my next nail set. For the record, this section won’t always be so lowbrow, but I trust y’all with my life and am currently plagued with the pre-appointment decision paralysis that puts me at risk for raising the “ummm, I’ll just do Bubble Bath” white flag.

Requirements are: Looks good on a rounded-almond-shaped nail, is easy enough that almost any nail tech can achieve it, and is fairly fun because I’ve been loving my current polka dot set and am only really parting ways with it because of the grow out. My wardrobe leans on the more minimal side, so I like my nails to be the accessory, ya feel? Drop your thoughts in the comments and let’s chat!

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Examination: reflections, realizations, & reminders

I’m sure this Examination section will evolve with time, but for now, I’m treating it as a corner of the newsletter to dig a bit deeper. In the spirit of this being my first Substack post, I’m here to remind you that you can start messy. I can’t tell you how many times the thought of creating a Substack account has crossed my mind over the past year or so, but once I really clocked how helpful it would be for me from a storytelling and workload perspective, I made the choice to go all in. What ensued quickly after making that choice were the platform-related deep dives that turned into excuses to actually get started.

Well, before I launch it, I have to have my branding down to a science. Before I launch it, I have to decide if I want to monetize it at some point. Before I launch it, I have to have the foresight to decide what those paid tiers would entail. Before I launch it, I have to become the type of person who reads Substack every morning. Before I launch it, I have to consume every tutorial and think piece that lives on YouTube University to make sure I’m approaching it the right way. Before I launch it…

Respectfully to my brain, shut the hell up, girl.

The truth is, none of that was actually required to begin. I’m saying this right now because I need to hear it, but maybe you need to hear it, too. The clarity doesn’t usually show up before you start. It shows up because you start.

So if you’re sitting on something right now (your next big idea, a project, or even a version of yourself you keep putting off), this is your nudge to do the embarrassingly simple version first. Let’s let go of the idea of a perfect first draft because the version that exists is better than the one that doesn’t.