I only want to write when I'm sad

Substack vs TikTok

Photo by Ryan Snaadt on Unsplash

My life is good at the moment. I mean, it’s nowhere near perfect - I still don’t know where I’ll eventually be living after the (imminent) divorce, whether I can afford my new life, how I’ll cope with life admin (not my strong suit) or, you know… little things like if I’ll ever love again. But it’s good. I’m honestly in a happy place.

And I don’t especially want to write.

This whole Substack was birthed just like my second child: very fast, and in excruciating pain. I wrote most of my first post in my notes app on my phone, and the words just poured out of me. I had so many feelings messed up inside, and I desperately wanted to make sense of them all. I was determined for purpose and meaning to come from my misery, and in doing so, this blog became like my third child: something I attended to and nurtured… a likeness of myself, which made sense of all the pain beforehand.

I am incredibly proud of what I managed to put together at my lowest ebb. Of my resourcefulness and resilience. But you see, in starting to feel happy, I’m now starting to lose my urge to write¹.

It seems I can only write something really profound when I’m in that exquisite state of high functioning despair.

However… I can still create. It might seem out of character if you only know my more thoughtful, reflective, Substack self, but on TikTok I am singing or making silly videos virtually every day. I’m starting to feel really at home there.

Now this kind of distinction worries me a little, because I don’t want to see Substack as my sad place and TikTok as my happy place. But, seeing as I am Learning to be Me, I do have to honour the different parts of my identity that are coming out to play in different places. Both sites offer a home to the person that I am. And how wonderful is it to have safe ways to express multiple elements of your identity?

Photo by May on Unsplash

I think Substack feels soothing; it’s like a warm hug from my extended family. The detailed and supportive comments, the “me too”s… the depth of connection is unparalleled. Everyone here is profoundly thoughtful. I can really craft and hone my own words, and I can dive deep into so many first-person viewpoints here, all of which helps me to make sense of the world and my emotions².

BUT TikTok… if you’re not familiar with it, well… it’s also an incredibly supportive community, which I find hugely validating. I get to showcase my singing which, unlike writing (once my actual job), is something I’ve really been too nervous to ever share in any meaningful way. I’ve also met some truly lovely folk over there. And the music! There are some wonderful artists, streaming and sharing their musical gifts entirely for free. I am just starting out on this journey myself, and I feel honoured and humbled to have my feet on the bottom rung of a very impressive ladder.

I think, if I’m being honest, there is a part of me (a part that is WRONG, so bear with) that judges these platforms and their credibility. On some level, I think Substack feels serious and impressive while TikTok feels silly and frivolous; and on the surface it can totally look that way. Here I am, pouring out my heart and soul into a crafted virtual tome on Substack, while on TikTok, I appear to be dicking about, livestreaming chaos with one of my besties once a week, and singing songs whilst washing up. They are worlds apart. Right?

Well… no, actually. That bestie is a successful artist who sells high ticket art on TikTok all the time. And I have to practice my singing to make it good enough for TikTok, as well as taking care of myself so that I’m hydrated and well enough to sing regularly. I’m also investing into new equipment to help me livestream.

There is also a chance to earn money on this platform… it’s actually pretty astonishing.

Just last week, I watched one of my fave TikTok singers - Musical Chrissy, she does Disney and musical theatre, and she is very good - earn possibly thousands of pounds from one single live broadcast. Two of her fans were sending her extravagant gifts worth hundreds of pounds each. These gifts appear on the screen as animations that play for every viewer to see. Chrissy was sent the most expensive gift - called the TikTok Universe - several times within an hour.³

Now the thing I know about Musical Chrissy is that she’s worked hard for her craft, and she has earned those gifts. I recently found one of her very early live videos from a couple of years ago, and she was clearly only just starting out. Her singing was lovely, but nowhere near as confident, and she was trying to iron out her technical issues. Now, she is incredibly polished, while still retaining that real humanity that people first connected with. I think she’s amazing!

So, TikTok isn’t credible? Have a word with yourself Katie, your subconscious does come up with some bollocks sometimes. I mean, you’ve earned some money on TikTok yourself, haven’t you?

Yeah it’s not much, but I wasn’t expecting anything at all! Lovely people sent me their pennies when I was going live. How lucky am I???

I don’t know if there’s much of a point to this post, except to give me the chance to say (to myself):

Katie,

Give yourself a break. You have been through a shitshow of a chapter in your life. If you want to have fun on TikTok, have fun on TikTok. Plus: who knows where it might lead?

Substack will always be there for you, like the kindly friend who is always ready with a cuppa, a hug and a perfectly pithy piece of wisdom.

Now… go and play.

Ah… I needed to tell myself that.

Thank you, lovely community, for being there as I continue to talk sense into myself, and make my way forward through the parting mists.

Until the next time,

☕ Buy me a coffee ☕

1. The irony being, that this in itself makes me sad… I appear to have reached Schrödinger's emotional state

2. I am so woefully behind on posts from my Substack community. WOEFULLY behind.

3. Bless her, she was stunned. It was amazing to see. Lots of love in that little virtual room.