What Authenticity Means To Me, with Alexa Juanita Jordan

Alexa Juanita Jordan
  • 0,0 (0)
  • RELACIONAMENTOS
  • DIÁRIO

Conversations with people I admire about what authenticity means to them. thenuancediaries.substack.com

  1. HÁ 1 DIA

    The Least Problematic Woman In The World Inspired My Newsletter’s New Name

    Dylan Mulvaney didn’t change her name when she transitioned — but her one-woman show inspired me to change mine. The name of my newsletter, that is. Dylan briefly discusses nuance at the end of her iconic one-woman show, The Least Problematic Woman in the World. Something about hearing that word, in the context she presented it in felt like a lightbulb moment. I was like, ‘Oh, right, nuance. This very nuanced world we’re living in.” I really can’t tell you how I jumped from that thought to, “I should change the name of my newsletter.” I hadn’t even been thinking about changing the name until I heard Dylan Mulvaney say ‘nuance.’ Just like I never thought about living in San Diego until I visited. (Ironically, where Dylan once lived, too.) But like so many things in my life, the rebrand and rapid recent growth of this newsletter happened slowly and then all at once. Back in June, I sat down to write what I called the “Wild Cozy Free 2025 State of the Union” to reflect on my two years here at Substack, and what ‘wild cozy free’ means to me now. I first claimed my Substack URL on May 8, 2023, and published my welcome post nine days later on May 17th. The name Wild Cozy Free came to me late one night. I had recently found out that a potential book project wasn’t going to happen the way I thought it would. I had this whole collection of non-fiction essays, and nowhere to put them, as a playwright who had formerly only published fictional dramas. I remembered how Glennon Doyle’s writing career started, with her blog, The Momastery. “I’d tell my shiny, happy representative self to be quiet. And I just allowed my wild, original, honest, truth self forward. I started a blog, and it turned out lots of people needed to hear the truth like they needed air. Over time, as I wrote to you each morning, you became my meeting, my friends, the community I’d end up doing life with. Since those early days, a whole lot has changed for me… those early writings have turned into three books, the last of which was Untamed. I watched from my home this past year in awe as Untamed became one of the biggest books of 2020 and 21. And because of that, things have gotten bigger and wider and fancier. And the bigger and the wider and the fancier it all gets, the more I miss those early days. So here we are, back to the beginning, just you and me in the early morning in our coffee and the truth. Full circle makes me very happy. From We Can Do Hard Things: 1. ANXIETY: Is it just love holding its breath?, May 11, 2021 Looking back at my very first Substack post, it’s now easy to see how my own words echoed Glennon’s — The day I started toying with the idea of writing a personal blog, words started pouring out of me faster than ever before. It was like my mind got the message that I could finally say whatever I wanted to, without worrying about the correct format. I’m good at brainstorming and free writing, but all of my writing typically falls into one category: play, novel, essay, song, or maybe a poem. The only works I’ve ever widely shared are plays. I hope to share the novels one day, once I finish them. The song lyrics and poems are typically just for me or close friends. The unfiltered stuff. The most unfiltered stuff is tucked away in my notes app. The writing that I know probably won’t ever make it into a future play, novel, essay, song, or poem. The writing that I won’t assign to a character, or fit into a dramatic arc. The thoughts I jot down when I’m waiting for the train. The things that pop into my head when I’m listening to a podcast or a moody playlist on one of my hot girl walks. The anxieties that keep me up when all I want to do is sleep. This blog will be a home for those thoughts. Two years later, this blog is still a home for those thoughts. Reading this Substack is very much like taking a peek inside my notes app, because my notes app is where most, if not all, of the essays start out. The iPhone Notes app is pretty much my virtual diary. Diary. Like The Nuance Diaries. Of course, when I started this blog, I did have to wrestle with my inner critic’s protests. Who would want to listen to us? I’m well aware that the concept of women unmasking their real, authentic selves isn’t original (even though it’s still relatively quite new.) That’s a good thing, a really good thing; that so many of us are finally taking up space and showing up as our full selves. Instead of shutting myself down and convincing myself that I have nothing new to contribute to that conversation, I’m going to defy my inner critic and take up some space of my own. I’m going to slowly strip myself of shame. I’m going to let my wild, cozy, free self roam, say what she wants to say, and see where that takes us. I hope you’ll join me, and bring your wild, cozy, free self along for the ride. I’m not here to teach you anything new about yourself, or the world for that matter. I’m just here to share the thoughts that I usually keep to myself* about myself, and the world around me. An imperfect offering of validation and truth. This description still rings true. This newsletter is still the place I share the thoughts that I usually keep to myself about myself and the world around me. While writing my Wild Cozy Free 2025 State of the Union a few months ago, I came up with this, Wild Cozy Free is how it feels to show up as my real, authentic, unfiltered self with my mess on full display. It’s like being in the WILD. Uncharted territory. No one has gone where I’m going. No one is going to experience life the way that I do. I’ve searched for blueprints for so long on how to live. I’ve looked for the right answers and wisdom. But the only right wisdom is mine. So here I am making my way with no map, trekking through the wild. Bushwhacking, if you will. There’s something COZY about coming home to who I am, and nesting there. When I feel really connected to myself, I often take this breath of release like “oh here I am”, like when you’re snuggling up on a cozy sofa. I just got this image in my head of a family learning to take care of a newborn. And I imagine that a lot of new parents might call those first few months both wild and cozy. One minute you’re like “wow, how do I keep this human alive? I can’t do this. ” and the next minute you’re looking at this perfect soft angel swaddled up on your chest with the perfect baby smell and you’re so content and calm in the chaos. (And no, I do not have kids yet, but I really look forward to being a mom one day. And that being said, I know that I have no idea what the reality of raising a child is like, and the last thing I want to do is oversimplify the complexity of being a new parent/caregiver.) Pouring my heart out across the page, and letting people get to know the real me as I peel back more and more layers, is really FREEING. It’s the feeling of being seen and accepted without pretenses or performance, or expectation. I am free to be myself and evolve. Wild Cozy Free is a feeling, an identity, a state of mind, and something I’m in constant pursuit of. It’s like my personal brand of authenticity. Looking back, it’s very possible that I was subconsciously starting to realize that Wild Cozy Free felt like more of a vibe than a newsletter name. It was a great newsletter name for the last two years. But this blog is no longer about just me and how I move through the world. It’s about what I see and how I experience the world, too. Enter, The Nuance Diaries. Something just clicked when Dylan Mulvaney said that word, ‘nuance’, in one of the final moments of her gorgeous, singular, whirlwind one-woman show, The Least Problematic Woman in the World. I HIGHLY implore you to catch this weekend before it closes Sunday, if you’re here in New York! My mind just couldn’t let go of that word, nuance, and what it means to have nuance and be nuanced. At first, the phrase ‘the nuance report’ popped into my head — but the word ‘report’ felt a little too newscaster for me personally. The word ‘diary’ is what followed. Maybe I was subconsciously thinking about the diary entries that Dylan shares in her memoir, Paper Doll (which she signed for me!) Or maybe I was thinking about the Sex and the City spinoff, ‘The Carrie Diaries.’ Honestly, if I tried to trace back the origin of every idea and detail in my brain, we’d be here until 2030 minimum. I ran the idea by a close friend the day after seeing The Least Problematic Woman in the World, and she loved it. She said that it felt like a great name for a newsletter where I share my ‘hot takes’ on the world. (I myself think that my takes are lukewarm at best, but who am I to correct my bestie when she calls me and my takes hot?) I put together the new logo/wordmark and changed my URL that night, just 24 hours after seeing The Least Problematic Woman in The World. You might be thinking, What is the actual definition of nuance? Okay, but what does that actually mean? Something that is nuanced has many different shades of meaning, in the same way that a photo might have many different shades of gray. https://study.com › lesson › what-is-nuance-in-reading Closer… but what does it really mean? It’s very simple: When something is not “black and white,” it’s “nuanced,” i.e., shaded. https://thinkclearlywriteclearly.wordpress.com/2015/01/02/what-is-nuance/ That hits it on the head for me. I think of nuance as the gray area. The both/and of it all. So by that definition, Wild Cozy Free was nuanced all along. The very description of something being both wild AND cozy feels pretty nuanced to me. Because wild can be cozy, and cozy can be wild. I started writing here on Substack under Wild Cozy Free to peel back the layers of myself and the world around me. And now inside The Nuance Diaries, I will continue to do just that. It kind o

    15min

  2. HÁ 3 DIAS

    Salt Air

    This is a free preview of a paid episode. To hear more, visit thenuancediaries.substack.com If you’re new here, welcome! Here inside the nuance diaries (formerly Wild Cozy Free), I write the things that highly observant, deeply feeling people are thinking, but rarely say aloud. Writing is how I attempt to make sense of this sharp, messy, imperfect, wild world. Paid subscribers ($7/month) get at least one essay each week + access to my archive of 140+ posts and podcasts + other fun perks, while free subscribers get an occasional free essay (like today’s!) and previews of paid ones (like this.) You can learn more about me here, and the vibe of my Substack here. Also, check out my most-read piece ever, here. And if you’re not new here, stay tuned for an update/explanation of the name change soon — I’m excited about it! I have always loved the ocean. I use metaphors with the ocean a lot, in my writing and in my day-to-day life. I’ve been sitting on a different song with ocean imagery for a few weeks (maybe over a month), and yet somehow, this song, which I wrote in like 30 minutes, is what I’m going to share first. It was inspired by something from a notes section (see below), which I wrote down in mid-September*. It feels very different than anything I’ve ever written, and yet it could be a sister of Coffee and Dresses. The recording is also exactly 2:22, which is my Angel number. And the last time I edited the original note with the inspiration for this song was on September 22nd. So I’m feeling VERY good about this, even if it’s a first draft. The Note: Can you handle the depths of my soul? Can you swim in my waters? It can be rough out here in these waters. But I will not leave the ocean for you. I will not leave the sea for anyone I will not leave myself for anyone. I choose me, and the salt air every time. There is nothing wrong with preferring the shore. But it is simply not where I live. I have hope that I will find someone to brave the waves with me. And The Lyrics (recording with melody above) Subscribe to The Nuance Diaries for $7/month to unlock the rest of this post!

    1min

  3. 10 DE OUT.

    The Best Showgirls are a Wicked Kind of Wonderful pt. 1

    If you’re new here, welcome! Here inside the nuance diaries (formerly Wild Cozy Free), I write the things that highly observant, deeply feeling people are thinking, but rarely say aloud. Writing is how I attempt to make sense of this sharp, messy, imperfect, wild world. Paid subscribers ($7/month) get at least one essay each week + access to my archive of 140+ posts and podcasts + other fun perks, while free subscribers get an occasional free essay (like today’s!) and previews of paid ones (like this.) You can learn more about me here, and the vibe of my Substack here. Also, check out last week’s piece, which is now my most-read EVER! And if you’re not new here, stay tuned for an update/explanation of the name change soon — I’m excited about it! I listened to The Life of A Show Girl in its entirety on an early morning train ride to a different borough this morning. I will probably listen to it again when I venture to yet another borough later today. And then when I get home, I will dance around my house and dance to The Fate Of Ophelia choreography while I make dinner, before collapsing into bed. But for now, I sit here powered by caffeine and the 50-degree weather that finally made it possible for me to wear a turtleneck. And since I can’t blast The Life of A Showgirl in public without raising a few eyebrows, I thought I’d write to you about the Wicked parallels I’ve found in what I am declaring a no-skip album. THERE ARE WICKED FOR GOOD SPOILERS AHEAD. Proceed at your own risk! That being said, if you are a Swiftie who isn’t into theater, or a theater kid that doesn’t love Taylor — I think there’s something for both sides of the Venn Diagram here. And if you fall in the middle like me…well you’re in for a treat. And if you’re definitively not in either of those camps, here are a few other reading suggestions for you. (That last one is now my most read ever.) Okay! Last chance to turn back, here come the Wicked spoilers! Maya and Craig, if you are still reading, stop reading. THE FATE OF OPHELIA So deeply Elphaba and Fiyero coded. From ‘I heard you calling on the megaphone’ to ‘eldest daughter of a nobleman.’ (If Elphaba’s father Frexspar Thropp has no haters, I am dead.) There’s also the shared fate between Ophelia and Elphaba — dying due to being submerged in water (drowning and melting, respectively). In Wicked Act II, Fiyero literally becomes the Captain of the Wizard’s Guard just so he can “hone his powers” and help find Elphaba. He is literally calling for her on the megaphone because he literally wants to see her all alone and save her from being persecuted. All that time I sat alone in my tower, you were just honing your powers. And if you’d never come for me, I might’ve drowned in the melancholy No longer drowning and deceived, all because you came for me Fiyero is by no means a Disney prince rescuing Elphaba from a tower (neither is Taylor.) He is very instrumental in helping her flee from the Wizard’s Guard, and eventually from Oz altogether. And while Elphaba does keep herself physically safe while in exile, Fiyero will save her heart, and wake her up to all kinds of feelings she’s never felt, when they hook up in that forest (so much more on that to come). It’s ‘bout to be the sleepless night, you’ve been dreaming of… Also, a notable mention for don’t care where the hell you’ve been, ‘cause now you’re mine, because the fact that Fiyero “chose” Glinda is kind of a non-issue after Fiyero saves Elphaba in Part 2. This line also evokes the jab Elphaba will throw at Glinda during their epic fight in Part 2, which goes something like, “He never loved you, he loves me.” Speaking of Glinda… ELIZABETH TAYLOR Oftentimes, it doesn’t feel so glamorous to be me. This is pretty much Glinda’s thesis in Wicked for Good. As we saw a glimpse of in the beginning of Wicked Part, Glinda is smiling through the pain. She is the girl in the bubble ‘who has everything and nothing at once.’ I’m not sure if it’s an equal comparison, but Glinda’s big song, Thank Goodness, is kind of her Defying Gravity moment, where she steps into some big truths that have similar themes to Elizabeth Taylor. Everyone thinks Glinda’s life is amazing. She has everything she ever wanted. Except for the fact that her man is pining after her best friend, who is a fugitive being persecuted by all of Oz. If you ever leave me high and dry, I’d cry my eyes violet Elizabeth Taylor, tell me for real, do you think it’s forever? Been number one, but I never had two, and I can’t have fun if I can’t have you. Glinda’s life is quite different when she steps out of that bubble, just like a showgirl’s life is different when she steps offstage. She “would trade the Cartier for someone to trust.” Speaking of girls who just want someone to trust… OPALITE So this is how I think Nessa feels about Boq. I think it works if you picture this song being sung in a more delusional and less sincere way than Taylor does. Picture King George from Hamilton singing Opalite in the same tone that he sings ‘You’ll Be Back.’ You were in it for real, she was in her phone, and you were just a pose These lyrics are very funny when you picture Nessa singing them about Boq because they foreshadow his transformation into the Tin Man (‘you were just a pose.’) If you go back and watch the first movie, you can also see a very subtle yet distinct nod to the Tin Man in Boq’s body language/rigid stance when he first meets Glinda on the first day at Shiz. Nessa also totally sees Glinda as the girl who was ‘in her phone’, not paying any attention to Boq. This is just a storm inside a teacup, but shelter here with me, my love Thunder like a drum, this life will beat you up, up, up, up This is just a temporary speed bump, but failure brings you freedom And I can bring you love I can picture Nessa singing the bridge of Opalite to herself in Act II from the governor’s mansion where she has essentially imprisoned Boq. She’s like ‘this is fine! Everything is fine! This is a temporary speed bump and he will eventually see how much I love him and forget about Glinda and also forgive me for making him my servant and then we’ll be so happy!'“ This life will beat you up is also quite the nod to Nessa’s untimely demise when Dorothy drops on the scene (pun intended.) Oh, and speaking of untimely demises… FATHER FIGURE The only person I hate more than Frexspar Thropp is the Wizard. Like I said, if Elphaba’s father(s) have no enemies, I am dead. When I found you, you were young, wayward, lost in the cold. So the obvious father figure of Wicked would be The Wizard, but I also think it’s interesting to listen to this song through the lens of Madame Morrible and Elphaba’s relationship. Morrible literally takes Elphaba in. She is the first to see Elphaba’s potential, and encourage her, and ‘teach’ her. This love is pure profit, just step into my office Although we don’t have details on how The Wizard and Madame Morrible met, I’m sure that they had similar beginnings too, when The Wizard teamed up with her. They want to see you rise, they don’t want you to reign This reminds me of one specific moment in Sentimental Man when The Wizard sings, “so Elphaba I’d like to raise you high.” It’s a brilliant line, musically, because when he sings the word ‘high’, his voice actually drops down low — foreshadowing the fact that he does not want her to reign or really rise for that matter. All I ask for is your loyalty, my dear protege. The cost of his loyalty is steep, and the reward isn’t always exactly as it seems. Elphaba can have the honor and prestige she’s fantasized about as long as she does exactly what The Wizard says and helps him suppress the animals (which she is not at all on board with.) Your thoughtless ambition sparked the ignition on foolish decisions which led to misguided visions that to fulfill your dreams you had to get rid of me I protect the family. As hurt as Elphaba is by Morrible and The Wizard’s swift betrayal and demonization, she is also empowered, emboldened, and fueled it too. She wipes her tears, gives us a quick toss toss with her cape, and heads to the western sky to protect the family and do everything she can to save and free the animals. She sees The Wizard for who he is, a man with no power, thoughtless ambition, and misguided visions who thought that he had to vilify her to get what he wanted. She goes from being his greatest potential asset to his biggest threat in seconds — which is what the outro of Father Figure is all about. In the song, it sounds like the father figure has been the same person the whole time on a surface level. And yet if we approach the lyrics with more context, there’s a subtle shift after the bridge where the tables turn and the protege becomes the powerful one. *For those less familiar with the Swiftie lore, many people think that Father Figure is about Taylor’s relationship with Scott Borchetta and the fight to get her masters back. You could argue that deep down, The Wizard thinks he’s on track to ‘win’ and maintain control at the end of Part I (even though he honestly looks scared shitless when all the lights go out in the Emerald City as Elphaba flies through the sky more powerful than ever.) But in Part II, he gets brought down. He wants a fight, and he found it. He pulled the wrong trigger. The empire does not in fact belong to him. (All lyric references to Father Figure.) You made a deal with the devil turns out my d*cks bigger. When Glinda stays behind instead of getting on the broom, she ends up making a deal with the devil by outwardly siding with Morrible and The Wizard. She thinks she has chosen the side of true power and influence. But in reality, Elphaba’s the one with the real power. Her d*ck’s bigg

    17min

  4. 7 DE OUT.

    The Surprising Reason I Love Bushwhacking

    People are often taken aback when I talk about my time at The Mountain School. I don’t really blame them; if I met me, I would probably be surprised that I’d spent four months on a farm in Vermont when I was 16, too. But I did. And I loved it. I loved seeing the stars at night. I loved the community that my semester formed. I even grew to love the animals that horrified me at first. (I still don’t get too close to cows, goats, or chickens. I give them their space - we respect each other.) I found out somewhat quickly that I have a knack for bushwhacking, which the dictionary defines as “cutting or pushing one's way through vegetation or across rough country, not following an established trail.”* Put more simply, bushwhacking is when you grab a stick and use that stick to make a path for yourself in the woods. This song has absolutely nothing to do with the essay, but it was in my head the whole time that I was writing it, and Frozen II is profoundly underrated. Bushwhacking made me feel powerful. In a diary entry written during my time at The Mountain School, I compared bushwhacking to walking down the streets of Manhattan with a bunch of shopping bags, trying to make it through a sea of tourists on 5th Avenue. I stand by that metaphor. It truly fits the quintessential “city girl gone country” image that I had going for me at The Mountain School. One of our first assessments during my semester involved identifying the trees we’d been studying in environmental science. Nature was quite literally our classroom. For our quiz, my small class of 10 or so walked outside the schoolhouse building with paper and pen and were instructed to write down the names of the trees that our teacher pointed at. I don’t remember what grade I got on that quiz. Probably a B- honestly. The only tree species I remember, and can still identify today, is a paper birch. The trunk of the tree looks kind of like it’s wrapped in rough, jagged sheets of white paper that you could peel off easily. What I do remember is the enormity and sturdiness of all those trees. I probably got distracted during the quiz because I was daydreaming and feeling philosophical about it all. I surprisingly created a lot of nature metaphors and imagery during sessions with my life coach a few years ago. One of the metaphors we frequently came back to was the cave where I picture my "wisest self." I used to picture her hiding away from the rest of the world in a cave. I once told my former coach that I pictured that cave as the same one where Katniss nourished Peeta to health in the Hunger Games. I pictured a similar cave while reading Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller. (The one where Achilles and Patroclus lived, when they were training with Chiron.) (Both excellent books. I feel like Katniss and Achilles would be at each other’s throats, but Peeta and Patroclus would get along just fine.) There’s a coziness and warmth about my cave, even though it’s nestled in the heart of the wilderness. The wilderness in my metaphor represents the outside world. The cave is where my real self took shelter while I reconciled my outer world with my inner world. A reconciliation that was only possible (and necessary) after realizing how much pretending I had been doing in everyday life. Since creating that cave metaphor, I have ventured out more and more to explore the ‘wilderness.’ I have started pretending less. And I actively think about how to exist out here in the wild, and show up as my real, ‘wisest’ self that I picture in that cave, without a) actually retreating back into that cave or b) staying in the wild and pretending. More plainly, I spend a lot of time thinking about how I can be myself out in the world, instead of just performing all day and becoming myself again once I’m cozy on the couch again. How can we show up as our real selves in a world where we constantly feel like we have to armor up in more ways than one? How can we show up as ourselves in a world that often explicitly demands a version of us that is not who we actually are? Does ‘being yourself’ even matter? Inside this extended metaphor I’ve built, where I live in this cave and venture out into the wild — I picture myself bushwhacking to create new paths. My coach and I used to talk about how to know when you’re heading in the right direction when there is no exact path to follow. What does it feel like when you know you’re going the ‘right’ way, and making the ‘right’ choices? How do you tap into that intuition? How do you know what to do? I picture myself walking from tree to tree. I think about the people I meet along the journey, the places I encounter, and the opportunities that I come across as trees. Some are long-lasting - sturdy and rooted, and strong. Some are temporary - flimsy and susceptible to breaking with the right gust of wind in a storm. Some trees will be swiftly uprooted - like the one I studied for my final science project at The Mountain School. At first, I thought it must have been an old tree. But eventually, I realized with the help of my teacher that it had to have been a somewhat young tree, for all the roots to have come up in the way that they did. Glennon Doyle introduced the idea of touch trees to me when I read Untamed. A Touch Tree is one recognizable, strong, large tree that becomes the lost one’s home base. She can adventure out into the woods as long as she returns to her Touch Tree — again and again. This perpetual returning will keep her from getting too far gone….Now, when I feel lost, I remember that I am not the woods. I am my own tree. So I return to myself and reinhabit myself. -Glennon Doyle, Untamed I am not the woods. I am my own tree. I do believe that. BUT ALSO for the purpose of my metaphor (my wisest self being out in the woods after resting in her cave), I think that we can have multiple touch trees? People, places, and things that make us feel like ourselves and help us feel connected to our real selves as we venture through this wild world. The texture of these trees feels like home. They are new and yet so familiar. Like sitting down for coffee with a new friend, and suddenly feeling like you’ve known them all your life. Or reading a book that makes you feel instantly seen. Or listening to a podcast that somehow makes you feel like you’re at an intimate dinner party with your closest friends. When I reach those trees, I want to lean on them, relish in their sturdiness, and stay awhile. I want to stop being worried about when I’ll ever find a tree like this again. I don’t want to rush off to the next tree in search of something greater or worry that I’m not moving fast enough on my journey. I want to pay attention to how present I feel in my body when I’m walking through the forest. If I feel disconnected from myself physically, that is usually a pretty good indicator that I am in the wrong neck of the woods. Sometimes it’s tempting to stay in places where we don’t feel like ourselves. It’s easy to shove down the discomfort in the moment. I get it. I did that for many moments and many years. But here’s the thing. When I’m in the right neck of the woods, I feel grounded, present, and free. I feel peace unlike I’ve ever known, and all I want to do is stop and enjoy that feeling and be right where I am with myself and those trees. For even the sturdiest trees won’t stand forever. If life has taught me anything, it’s taught me that. So I myself am going to spend my wild, precious life finding the trees that feel like home, instead of staying in the wrong neck of the woods for fear that I may never find my touch trees. The basic definition of bushwhacking is simply to make one’s way in the woods. Nature provides us with such a powerful example of what it’s like to make your way in uncharted territory, at whatever pace is necessary. Nature also provides us with many examples of how necessary it is to be patient. We can’t rush the flowers in the winter. We can’t rush the sun in the spring. We don’t rush the leaves as they change colors in the fall. We literally can’t. And we likely wouldn’t if we could. Don’t rush yourself either, on whatever journey you’re on. Go towards the things that make you feel alive and bushwhack with gusto, but don’t sprint! You’ll probably trip on a stick that someone else discarded while they were out bushwhacking. There is both urgency and patience needed, as we find our way in this world. We have all the time in the world, and we have no idea how much time that will be. So don’t rush, but don’t wait forever either. One last thing, before I head out to *bushwhack — Lean on your touch trees. Lean. On. Your. Touch. Trees. *That was a joke. The Mountain School was fun, but I am a city girl living in New York, and the closest I will ever get to living in the woods is taking a weekend trip to the Hudson Valley. We were never meant to do any part of this life alone, and we are certainly not meant to navigate the wilderness alone. If you’re considering making a big change, or even just curious about what it would be like to take your life in a new direction, I’m always here to chat. You don’t have to know what’s next to know that it might be time to explore a new part of the woods. Nothing has to be ‘wrong’ on paper. If something feels off, then it’s off — and I highly recommend spending some time figuring out what that something is, before the unrest bubbles over. Burning your life down and starting anew can look surprisingly glamorous in movies, but it’s not the only way to change your life. You don’t have to wait until it feels impossible to stay where you are before you make a change. Further Reading I originally wrote this essay a few weeks ago before seeing a musical called Redwood this past weekend. It’s now been a year and a half since I originally pu

    14min

  5. 30 DE SET.

    Taylor Swift Isn't Going to Save the World

    The swiftie in me kind of died writing that. But it’s true. She can’t. To be clear, Taylor has saved my world many times over. I vividly remember hearing ‘Abigail gave everything she had to a boy who changed his mind’ in my childhood/teenage bedroom, and being forever changed. And yet, as powerful as Taylor’s music has been for me, she alone cannot save the world, and we have to stop acting like it. We have to stop acting like Taylor could end wars and genocides with social media posts, rallies, donations, and whatever else you think she isn’t doing. We criticize celebrities for being too self-important. And then we criticize them for not being our saviors. She was vocal about the 2024 election. It didn’t change the outcome. And yet, people are still truly convinced that pressuring her to “speak up” is the solution. I am not saying that she or anyone is perfect. Many people could be doing many different things with their platforms. That’s not actually a critique, it’s just a fact. Everyone could be doing more. Even the people posting on social media. Everyone could be doing more. Speaking of doing more — there are lots of resources at the end of this post! And unfortunately, we never know exactly what will turn the tide and start a revolution that actually makes a difference. But you know what is 1000% not going to make a difference? Using your precious time and energy to criticize Taylor Swift, or any other celebrities, for not posting about world crises. Taylor Swift is an archer, a mirrorball, a tortured poet. She has been a Brit, a New Yorker, a Kansas City girl — and now, a showgirl. But she is, by her own admission, an anti-hero. And anti-heroes cannot save the world. So why do we act like she could end a genocide with a single post? Why do you want someone who boldly declared, “It’s me, hi, I’m the problem, it’s me,” to be the solution? Why are people SO obsessed with pressuring her to speak up for the world’s crises when they could be directing that energy towards people who actually have the power to effect the change we’re seeking? (SO many resources at the end by the way.) Probably for the same reason that people are paying hundreds of dollars to protest at Kamala Harris’ book tour. The woman they didn’t elect for President, because they didn’t think we had any good options. Remember? I’m not here to convince you to be a Swifie. You have your taste, I have mine. But this thing we do where we loudly criticize people we’ve never met, like we have all the facts, and we’re the judge and jury? And we act like these people deserve our scrutiny because they chose to be in the public eye? I’m sick of it. Taylor isn’t seeing your posts about everything you wish she was and wasn’t doing. Glennon Doyle also isn’t seeing all of your posts about why she should never have started a Substack. (That whole thing? Insane. I have so much to say, but I truly will not go there.) The universal truth I keep coming back to is that our reactions to people have more to do with us than them. In some cases, we can and should loudly react to celebrities doing objectively horrible things. But even then, our reactions will still point to something specific inside us that has nothing to do with them. We get upset about certain things more than others for a reason. It’s our heart talking. It’s past experience talking. But if you’re furious with a celebrity who left his wife for someone else, and you make a ten-minute TikTok talking about what we all have been led to believe happened, you’re having that strong of a reaction for a reason. I’m not criticizing you for having that reaction. I’m just saying that your reaction has more to do with you than that celebrity. So to be clear, it’s completely fine if you’re mad at Taylor Swift for not posting about one or all of the world’s many atrocities. But if you’re so mad that you’ve convinced yourself she is doing nothing whatsoever? You’re having a really strong reaction that’s causing you to make up a narrative that fits the scope of your rage. You have no idea what Taylor Allison Swift has or hasn’t done. Neither do I. There are plenty of people in this world who quietly educate themselves, donate, and even influence the people around them, without posting on social media about every single thing they’re doing. That’s a perfectly fine thing to do. You know what’s not fine, though? Making angry, cavalier posts about how much Taylor Swift sucks just because she has not done this one thing that you think would change the tides of a literal war. It’s not fine when your middle school cousin, who looks up to you, reads your post and is heartbroken that you hate one of their personal heroes whose music helped them get through 5th grade when they were being bullied. The same people who are screaming Tortured Poets Department at the top of our lungs, and proudly wearing friendship bracelets — We’re the same people who are absolutely heartbroken by the tragedies of this world. We’re doing everything we can to turn our heartbreak into action. We raised millions of dollars in a Swifties for Harris Zoom fundraiser in like 90 minutes. We speak up and do everything in our power to show our solidarity and support for all kinds of crisis relief. We’re not wasting our energy villainizing a celebrity for not making a social media post. Again, you can feel however you want to feel about this! You’re allowed to think I’m wrong. You’re allowed to think that the revolution should happen a certain way. You’re allowed to want it to happen one way. I’d LOVE to live in a world where posting online could end a war. But it can’t. It literally can’t. And that’s not actually what you want to happen. You want these social media posts to galvanize people. You want the whole world to be inspired, care, and take action. Me too. Instead of expecting one person’s entire fanbase to magically do that, what if we focus on what we can do and what’s productive and what we KNOW will help? What if we encouraged our friends to make donations to impactful organizations? What if we spread factual information from reputable news sources, so that genuinely confused people can understand what the hell is going on? What if we stopped wasting our precious, limited, valuable energy being mad at Taylor Swift? I am so deeply over the era of loudly hating women, by the way— but that’s another post. If you’re unhappy with how someone’s behaving, you have freedom of speech (for now) and you can say whatever you want. But with all of the truly atrocious, heartbreaking tragedies in this world, maybe we could just focus on loudly criticizing the people in power? Maybe we could loudly amplify the people who are already doing something to help? Maybe we could remember that 2025 has been hard for everyone at every level of life, and that being nasty online is literally not helping you or anyone in the slightest? On that note, the comments for this post might eventually be turned off. This took a lot of courage to write and post. I’m going to exercise some self-compassion and give myself the kindness of not subjecting myself to the opinions of every single person on the internet. Democracy is important. Free speech is important. But this is my comment section, and I’ll be damned if I deal with every single troll who wants to come after me. If you can disagree and be respectful, go ahead and sound off. But if not, I’m not dealing with the keyboard warriors. It is not worth my energy. Or yours. Oh — and one last thing. When you see me losing my mind over The Life of A Showgirl, and feel tempted to remind me of what Taylor Swift is or isn’t doing — If you feel the need to call me a hypocrite, or say vile things about me or our *lord and savior Taylor Swift — In the words of Renee Rapp, “leave me alone **** I wanna have fun.” *Yes, I know I upset “the Christians” with that one. They’ve been upset since Cynthia Erivo played Jesus. They’ll live. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit thenuancediaries.substack.com/subscribe

    12min

  6. 24 DE SET.

    Storybook Undone: Behind the Lyrics

    I wrote the song Storybook Undone almost exactly two years ago after signing a copy of the Best Women’s Stage Monologues of 2022, an anthology in which I’m featured. Here in this book you will find 70 very diverse monologues written for women. These pieces present great acting challenges, and actors will have the pleasure of sinking their teeth into this sublime material while continuing to perfect their craft in their online or in-person workshops. The monologues all come from plays. Read these pieces, act these pieces. They will seem familiar to you as you hold the mirror up to nature and realize that art is indeed life. Smith and Kraus Website I’ve been thinking about Storybook Undone a lot lately, after writing a new song that I love, which in many ways feels like the sister of this song. I’m really excited to release it soon. These are the last few lines of Storybook Undone — the final chorus. And now that I’m free / I can learn to just be me Not who I thought I was / Who you thought you loved She’s not here no more / She walked through the door Oh, watch me run / Watch me tumble on Storybook Undone was largely inspired by A Doll’s House Part 2, a sequel inspired by Henry Ibsen’s acclaimed A Doll’s House. Before we talk about A Doll’s House Part 2, we obviously have to talk about Ibsen’s original masterpiece. For the record, you could see A Doll’s House Part 2 with no context, but what fun is that?! Housewife and mother Nora Helmer lives a delicately constructed — and seemingly perfect — life focused on keeping up appearances and meeting expectations. When a long-held secret comes to light on Christmas Eve, the foundation of Nora’s world begins to crumble. The blackmail and lingering resentments that emerge force her to come to terms with the fragile facade of her doll-like existence. Torn between playing the part that’s been built for her or leaving behind everything she’s ever known, Nora is faced with an impossible choice. -from The Guthrie Theater website. They’re about to do an adaptation by Amy Herzog, whom I love! She wrote the play 4000 Miles, which I did a monologue from for years. So if you are in Minnesota. Pleaseeeeee see this for me! The choice that Nora makes at the end of the play is shocking and largely unprecedented for a woman in the 19th century. I’m not going to completely spoil the ending too much because I would give anything to watch and read this play again for the first time. I will say that the door that protagonist Nora walks through is famously considered the door slam heard around the world; the slam that closed the door on the way things were and ushered drama into the new, modern world. A Doll’s House is easily one of my favorite plays. I first saw it at a theater company* I worked with in high school. I loved it so much that I saw it 2 or 3 times. I also ended up reading it in high school, and maybe again in college, and then saw the Broadway production with Jessica Chastain in 2023. In that production, Jessica Chastain as Nora walked out the door and straight into the streets of New York City, which was truly electrifying. (Some have criticized the staging because the quintessential ‘slam’ is missing - but I loved it.) ** I was so excited to be working off-off Broadway that I didn’t even think about the fact that I was paying dues and not actually getting paid. I don’t even think I got free tickets for friends and family to come to my shows. There also wasn’t really a formal casting process - I think we had some kind of email system where we’d express interest in being part of a certain play, and then the founder would make decisions with the directors. Not the most ideal or ethical situation — and nonetheless a really formative experience. I loved being a professional actor. I loved going to rehearsals. I loved taking the C train home at midnight from Times Square after an evening performance. I didn’t love it when a drunk guy walked across the stage one night — but that’s a story for another time. I unfortunately missed A Doll’s House Part 2 when it came to Broadway. I’m confident I’ll get to see it staged one day, as it is literally one of the most performed plays in America. It was written by Lucas Hnath, who also wrote The Christians — a monologue I’ve used for auditions from a play I’ve come to love. And so, when I came across the script for A Doll’s House Part 2 at The Drama Bookshop, I couldn’t not read it. As I mentioned at the beginning, I had just signed a copy of the monologue anthology I’m featured in, The Best Women’s Stage Monologues of 2022. I didn’t know that the anthology would be there, but I really, really hoped it would be (hence the visit.) Here I was, an actor turned playwright in the new and improved version of a bookstore that means everything to me — holding a book that contained my own words. It was surreal and magical. I was floating. I couldn’t just leave and re-enter the outside world yet. And so, I wandered the bookshelves and looked at plays, like I had done so many times before. I spent a lot of time at the old Drama Bookshop. It was where I would go to hunt for monologues and often sneak a picture of one that I liked so that I wouldn’t have to buy the whole play (sorry Drama Bookshop — promise I have not done this since I was a teenager!) I would sit for hours, poring through pages and pages of scripts, some familiar and some new. I did the same on that July afternoon. I sat in a cozy armchair, ironically elevated on a stage, and read the sequel to one of my favorite plays — just a few feet from a shelf that now held my own words. A Doll’s House Part 2 picks up 15 years after the original play ends. I can’t really talk about the plot without spoiling it for you, which you’re welcome to do yourself, but I leave that choice to you. What I can say is that even if I were going to speak freely about this sequel, plot spoilers be damned — I still don’t think I’d have the words. I think that Storybook Undone, the song I wrote immediately after finishing A Doll’s House Part 2 are still the only real words I have. I’ll also borrow Lucas Hnath’s own words when asked about the enduring power of the original play. From a Vogue Interview The action that takes place at the end was a shock when it was first produced, and it’s still a shock today. The way that it’s built is it’s a couple that actually is failing to talk to each other for most of the play. Then you hit that final scene where Nora says, “We need to talk.” That is such a resonant moment, and it’s such a familiar moment, too. It cuts to the heart of a problem in all intimate relationships. Also, Ibsen is trying to define what freedom is and is identifying the ways in which we are not as free as we think we are. Fears about reputation and how we’re viewed in the world, and anxieties about money and social standing—I think those are all shackles that remain today. Freedom. I guess I can unequivocally say that both A Doll’s House and A Doll’s House Part 2 are about women and freedom. Perhaps liberation — more so than freedom. The process of finding freedom, and the freedom itself. The song I wrote after reading A Doll’s House Part 2 is about freedom. My circumstances are very different from Nora Helmer’s, and yet there are so many ways I can relate to her. She, a married mother of three in the 19th century, went from her father’s house to her husband's. I’m single and childless and living in the 21st century. She is White. I am Black. And yet, we both grew up with a great deal of financial privilege. We both struggled with our predetermined roles. We’ve both been underestimated. We’ve both longed for things outside of our current circumstances. There is a kind of freedom I have been chasing my whole life, personally and artistically. Figuratively and literally. The freedom to be myself, to say what I want to say, to be imperfect, messy, and unrestrained, and loved because of who I am, not in spite. Seeing my monologue, from a play I wrote on my couch in pajamas during quarantine, inside a published book, felt like freedom. The freedom I felt holding that book in my hands was less about fame and notoriety. It was more about the validation of seeing a seed of an idea that I had for a play about abortion, growing into this. Actors are now going to be able to flip through the same kind of anthology I used to pore over as a young actor. and choose my monologue as audition material. They already have — they email me and tell me about it sometimes. That is so freaking insane to me. The fact that people resonate with the words I transport from my heart and mind to the page is nothing short of magic to me. And so, after this magical, full-circle moment of *signing an anthology that contained my work, in a bookstore that felt like a second home in high school, the only thing to do was read the sequel to a play I loved in high school. And after reading that play, the only thing left to do was write a song. (Something else I loved to do in high school.) *A HUGE thank you to the Drama Bookshop employee who asked me to sign it, and put the ‘signed author copy’ sticker on the book! I hope you chase the things that feel like freedom. I hope you have the courage to let go of what no longer serves you. I hope you know that what’s best for you is what’s best for your people — there is no such thing as one way liberation (a phrase I first learned from Glennon Doyle, with thousands of examples on large and small scales across history.) There is always a ripple effect when you do the thing that frees you. I hope you walk through all the doors you need to, to find the life you want and deserve. You can listen to Storybook Undone below. PS I think Nora would love the play that my featured monologue comes from (The Flower and the Fury) — she is

    12min

  7. 10 DE SET.

    Please Stay, Please Stay, Please Stay

    I am *not* a licensed mental health professional. RESOURCES available at AFSP and 988 and NAMI and one of my favorite resources for Black women and non-binary individuals, The Loveland Foundation. (These are also copied again at the end of the post.) Today is suicide prevention day. As I sit here writing this, it’s the night before. I had no idea that today was the exact day, as I was writing all this- truly. Eerie. I was going to publish this another time, but now I feel like it has to be today. I posted last year, around this time, about my unaliving attempts. And a lot of people in my life didn’t respond the way I expected. And that’s completely okay and valid. Seriously. And it was also kind of hard. And here I am, talking about it again. But this time — I’m talking directly to survivors (like myself) and people still considering it. Everyone else is welcome to read too. I totally encourage you to do so. I’m nervous to post this. I’m worried it’s imperfect. I know it’s imperfect. But I know that if I reach just one person, it’s enough. And I know that talking about suicide imperfectly is better than not talking about it at all. Because not talking about suicide does not prevent suicide. And talking about it doesn’t cause it. Those are just facts. That being said, take care of yourself, as always, and make the choice whether to read on or read something else - based on what is best for you today. When we tell people that we don’t want to be alive anymore, and they say ‘things will get better and you just need to hold on’ — I don’t think they realize how much they’re underestimating our pain. The idea of some hypothetical good future is no match for the excruciating pain that has made me/us no longer be on this planet. When I wanted to end my life, I didn’t need a distraction from the pain or a promise that it would get better. I needed someone to sit with me in it. I needed to know that it’s normal to feel this way. I needed to know that I wasn’t weak for feeling like I wanted to end it all. I needed to know that survival is hard and that I was capable of surviving. It doesn’t make sense on paper, but the surrender is what saves people. Glossing over the pain and throwing tons of coping strategies at us isn’t what saves us What saves us is realizing that it’s okay to need saving every day. There is no magic cure for the excruciating pain that life brings. There is nothing wrong with you if that pain feels insurmountable. You are not bad. You are not bad. You are not bad. Even if you’ve done “bad things” Even if you have “bad thoughts” I promise you from the bottom of my heart, you can feel all of these intense, sharp, agonizing feelings inside of you, and survive. I promise you from the bottom of my heart that ending your life will not solve anything — even if you’re 100% convinced that that’s true. So what do we do? If leaving all this pain behind isn’t the answer, what is? Survival. I think survival is the only answer. And you can do whatever you need to do to get through the night and survive. You can free yourself from the judgment of people who have no idea what you’re going through - and survive. I have no idea when it will get better. But I know that it can get better. But the only way it gets better is if you survive. It does not matter how close you are to the edge. If you are here reading these words, you have a chance to survive. And I hope to God that you take it. I’m really glad I did. I came very close to not taking that chance. Several times. My life is a miracle. The fact that I’m alive is a miracle. You are not exempt from miracles. You have that same chance. I won’t pretend to know your circumstances. I won’t pretend to know how hard whatever you’re facing is. You can admit that it’s hard. And scream at the sky. And rail at God. And think everything is impossible. And survive. You can think, ‘wow, she does not understand me at all, who the hell does she think is?’ and survive. As long as you are not hurting anyone, you can do whatever you need to do in this moment to survive. When I say “as long as you’re not hurting one’ — please know that that includes you. Please stay. Please stay. Please do whatever you need to do to stay. Below are some other pieces about surviving that you might enjoy. If writing like this is comforting to you or holds any value, and becoming a paid subscriber is not feasible at this time, just email me. If a paid subscription IS feasible for you at this time, consider becoming a paid subscriber to support someone who can’t afford it. RESOURCES available at AFSP and 988 and NAMI one of my favorite resources for Black women and non-binary individuals, The Loveland Foundation This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit wildcozyfree.substack.com/subscribe

    7min

  8. 13 DE AGO.

    Once Upon a Time in a Wild Cozy Free Ocean

    Remember when we would go back to school in September and talk about what we did that summer?  If I had to answer that question today, in the context of how I spent my summer on Substack, here’s what I’d say –  I did construction work on a beach.  Huh? (That’s what I imagine my fellow classmates would say.) What I mean is, I built a seawall.  You what? Okay, okay. Let me explain.  Paywalls are often thought of as barriers that keep people out.  Sea walls are literally built to contain the ocean in places where the land is vulnerable. The wall literally holds the waves.  (We’ll get into a deeper definition in just a second.)  You can still come down to the beach. You can still get to the waves. With the sea wall in place, there are just different levels of entry. There is still something for everyone at each level, whether you’re up on the cliffs, at the shore, or swimming in the waves.  You might be catching on to the fact that I didn’t actually build a literal sea wall.  I did build a metaphorical one, though. And it’s going to change how things work here at Wild Cozy Free, going forward.  “I am swimming for my life. I am swimming to shore. I am swimming like hell to get to shore.” Life Rafts If you’ve been reading for the last few years, or even months, you know that this isn’t the first time I’ve used the metaphor of the beach and the ocean. In my first ever welcome essay here, I said that in my fantasies, “ Wild Cozy Free feels like looking out at the ocean from a lighthouse at sunset.” What I’ve realized in the last 2 years and change of writing here is that Wild Cozy Free doesn’t just feel like looking out on the ocean from a lighthouse. Wild Cozy Free is the ocean. It’s the beach. It’s the lighthouse. And because this blog is an extension of me, I am therefore also an ocean, beach, and lighthouse.  I am in the waves and I am the waves. I created Wild Cozy Free so that I’d have a lighthouse and safe haven to house all of my messy, big, unfiltered feelings. And in doing that, my words became a lighthouse for you too.. Right now, anyone can wander onto the beach. It’s an open coast. For the last two years, this open, gatless entry has felt expansive, freeing and exactly right.  But lately, something has felt off. For a while, I haven’t been able to put my finger on it.  But then out of nowhere, and right on time,  I remembered the title of a play I saw years ago called Seawall / A Life. And everything just clicked.  *The plot of the play isn’t crucial to the rest of this essay, but for those interested, you can read more about it here. It’s described in part as “an exploration of love and the human need to know the unknowable,” which feels very fitting considering my own exploration of sea walls themselves lately. A seawall is a physical structure built along a coastline designed to protect the land from the force of waves and prevent erosion. It acts as a barrier between the ocean and the shore, absorbing and reflecting the power of the waves to stop them from washing away beaches, roads, homes, and infrastructure. Seawalls help slow down or stop the gradual breakdown of the land caused by constant wave action, storms, and rising tides. While the ocean remains wild and powerful, the seawall provides a stable edge where land and sea meet, keeping both safe. https://www.flickr.com/photos/mapplegate/1162785573 https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Seawallventnor.jpg For two years, Wild Cozy Free has been my ocean—raw, chaotic, vulnerable, and wide-open. I’m swimming in this ocean. I’ve invited you into this ocean. And I am this ocean. I created this space so I’d have a place to swim in the unfiltered truth and write about it freely.  Here’s what happens in vulnerable areas, when there is no seawall between the ocean and the land, and the ocean crashes directly into the land:  * Erosion pulls soil, sediment, trash, and manmade materials into the sea. * That debris disrupts the marine ecosystem—it muddies the water, affects animals, and pollutes the sea. * The ocean becomes cluttered, cloudy, and harder to breathe in. * The sea is forced to absorb the collapse of the land. * There’s no buffer between the sea and what needs protecting. Yeah. Not great.  And if I’m the ocean (which I think I am), then that’s what it feels like when I share my writing with no boundaries. When I pour out my most vulnerable truths for anyone and everyone to consume. Without a seawall, I’m constantly absorbing things. I was never meant to hold: the projections, the noise, the silence, the misreadings. I’m cleaning up after the wave before I can let the next one crash. The tide is powerful, and it wants to move. But I often end up subconsciously holding it back. Trying not to say too much.Trying not to spill over.Trying not to be too much. I don’t know who’s reading. I don’t know what context they’re bringing. I end up absorbing everything. So many things that have nothing to do with me.  And so naturally, I’m trying to clean up the beach in between the waves. To protect others—and to protect myself from being too exposed. This is what it feels like for me when everyone can access everything. My vulnerability becomes exhausting, not liberating.  That’s what it means to swim without a seawall. *I’m aware that there is a lot of discussion on whether seawalls are good for the environment or not. As a reminder, this is a metaphor, and I am not advocating for or against literal sea walls because I have far too little information to take any kind of public stance on that. Here’s what happens when there is a seawall –  * It shapes the waves instead of letting them crash endlessly. * The ocean still moves, but now it has a defined edge to meet. * It creates a barrier between the powerful force of the ocean and the vulnerable edge of the land. * The ocean stays cleaner, more coherent, and less burdened by the land’s breakdown. * The ocean can be wild, deep, and dynamic—without being destructive. And if I’m the ocean (which I’ve decided I am)  The seawall doesn’t create a fortress. It builds a container. It gives me a clear, steady place to meet you. It’s not here to keep you out. I built it so that I can invite everyone who wants to be here all the way in. The sea wall is going to allow me to continue to be fully myself—expansive, emotional, powerful—without constantly harming or being harmed It protects the emotional coastline I’ve worked hard to reclaim. It gives me a space to say the unsaid, without losing the shore beneath me. It’s what makes going deeper possible. It’s what makes it safe for me to invite you in even closer This seawall holds the edge. And inside, we get to be unguarded, undone, and fully submerged. Without it, I’m constantly on edge, trying to hold back the tide—trimming my truth, softening the edges, reshaping the waves so they don’t spill too far onto the shore. Behind the seawall, I’m not worried about overflowing. I’m allowed to flood. To swim. To sink. To surface. And if you're here for that—if you're ready to wade in with me—welcome to the beach. The water’s warm. The walls are strong. And the truth is deep.. This isn’t the place for polished soundbites. This is the deeper current. The saltier stuff.   Here, we can sink into wonder, grief, tenderness, rage, and reinvention. I can just… be. And let my writing do what it does best — help us all feel less alone. I wrote a whole other essay about that — a companion piece to this one because I didn’t want this to be super long. You can read it here, or finish this first. Dealer’s choice! How Things Will Work Going Forward - New Tiers. Here’s how the seawall is going to change how I share what I share. 🌊 The Shoreline ($7/month or $75/year) Step over the seawall onto the sand. Sit beside me as the tide meets the land. (I didn’t mean for that to rhyme, but I love the lyricism of it.) At this level, you’ll get… + At least one essay a week + access to my full archive of 100+ posts. If you’re new, you have so much to explore! If you’ve been here a while at a free membership level, there’s already never-before-seen paid content waiting for you, beyond the full archive that you’re familiar with (and get to keep access to!) And if you’ve been a weekly/yearly paid member for a while, first of all— thank you! Second, there’s something new for you, too. *I’ve updated most of the archive, but I’m still working my way through it (it’s tedious to change the settings one by one), so you do still have a littttle time to explore the waves/the essays before the seawall is complete. + Introducing The Authenticity Library (and so much more) Earlier this year, I very briefly tried to launch a new Substack called Beyond January. I already have two substacks (this one + New Yorker Goes West). It turns out, I don’t want to manage three and split my community a million ways! I love what I was starting to create over at Beyond January, so I’m moving everything from there over to here, and all of that content will be available to subscribers here at the shoreline. Head to Beyond January to see a preview of what will be available for you here starting Monday, August 18th. 🌊 Deep Blue Sea ($250+) There’s nothing like the ocean. Want to dive in? At this level, you’ll get… + Everything from the shoreline AND + Exclusive, early access to future projects like the second edition of Authentic by Alexa (coming this fall), my novel, my music, and all sorts of creative projects. + Voice notes (like a private podcast but far more personal) + 1:1 coaching session + Surprises. The ocean is full of surprises. Think of this space as a bit of a playground. I’m really excited for this. 🌊 Dispatches from the Sea (Free) Watch the waves from the

    15min
Ver tudo (26)

Sobre

Conversations with people I admire about what authenticity means to them. thenuancediaries.substack.com

Informações