Why Starting a Newsletter Just for Myself Was the Most Rebellious Thing I’ve Done Lately

Also, how surviving hangry velociraptors and awkward Halloween costumes taught me to finally say “Screw it, this is mine.”

I got asked the other day, “Why’d you start a newsletter?”

Since this is still a somewhat new endeavor for me, I had a few answers pop into my brain. First one up was, “It’s good for the company.” It’s another way to communicate with my agents and brokers. It’s a tool. A touchpoint. Another (now switching into my business voice here) “channel to motivate, lead, and inspire”, blah blah blah. I mean, all that is true. But that’s not why.

Next up in my crazy brain was (switching into my “Alpha Male” voice, total aside, but aren’t those dudes on social media a trip? Screaming “BROTHER” into the camera while they raw dog a scoop of pre-workout with no water, you know the ones), “Because the joy in hard things is that they’re hard.” And yeah, I agree with that. I pride myself on being someone who, when I say I’m going to do something, I do it. But that still isn’t why.

The next voice in my head showed up with this gem, and it almost convinced me: “Writing helps organize my thoughts and makes me better at explaining complex concepts.” Boring. Accurate. But boring. That voice is like getting chonies for Christmas. Practical? Sure. Needed? Maybe. But the joy that we count on Santa bringing down the chimney? Not so much. So no. Still not why.

Here’s why: It’s mine.

Most of my life is for others. As a father, what I do is for my daughter. As a stepfather, it’s for her, and the relationship I have with her father. As a partner, I want to provide, be a protector, and be dependable. For my business, I want to be present for my agents and owners and look around corners for them so they can focus on their business and their clients.

And that’s not a bad thing. We all have roles and responsibilities that come with the various labels we put on ourselves, or have put on us. And honestly, a life without expectations isn’t all that interesting (getting dangerously close to Alpha Dude again with that one). I welcome those roles.

But this newsletter? This is for me.

I can just write. No feedback loop (except Sadie, my editor, zero percent chance this is any good without her). No committee. No consensus. Just me and the voices in my head. And let me tell you, those voices are like a group chat: one’s the funny one, one’s the urgent one, one just wants a snack, and a couple of them are yelling from the balcony like those two old dudes from the Muppets (Millennials, Google it, it’s hilarious. Ask the old person next to you).

Just my crazy brain, coming to an inbox near you. And I love it.

Sometimes it’s a chore. But most of the time, it brings me joy. The process is fun. The “Should I say that? Yeah, go ahead, this is for you” of it all is kind of amazing.

But here’s the question: Why is it so hard for us to do things with the simple reason being “this is for me”?

I’ve got a few thoughts.

Fear of Failure (aka “What if I suck?”)

We’re wired to not try at all rather than to try and look stupid. We’re tribal creatures. We used to NEED each other to survive. The lizard part of our brain still thinks that if I do something dumb, I might get kicked out of the tribe and get eaten by a hangry velociraptor whose favorite snack is people who start personal newsletters. (It’s niche, but apparently deadly.)

We’re Herd Creatures (aka “Let me crowdsource my dreams real quick via an IG poll”)

That same lizard brain has another flaw: it wants you to fit in. For the same reasons, survival. Trying to do something for yourself, especially something weird or bold or ambitious (or something other people think they should be doing), can feel like showing up to a block party in a full Halloween costume… when everyone else is in sweats. #awkward

Have you ever made some lead calls and the person at the next desk gives you side-eye and mutters, “I should be doing that…”? That feeling. Like I said, humans are wired not to get kicked out of the tribe. And nothing screams “exile me!” like saying out loud, “Actually, I want something different.”

So we conform. We ask 12 friends for input. We ignore all of it. Then we go right back to doing what makes us miserable, but hey, at least we’re all doing it together.

Decision Fatigue (aka “I picked dinner, what more do you want from me?”)

Modern life is just a never-ending game of “Would You Rather.” Only instead of fun party questions, it’s: “Would you rather answer 67 emails that just came in or throw your laptop in the pool and binge Netflix for 11 hours?” By the time we get to the stuff that actually matters, the stuff that could be just for us, our brains are toast. Crispy little hashbrowns of indecision. (Which, to be fair, are delicious and proof that God loves us.)

So instead of starting that personal project, we watch a documentary about someone who did… and also committed fraud.

Here’s the thing: so much of what we do is for other people. That’s not a bad thing. I don’t want that to change.

But do you really have something that is just for you?

If you do, I’d love to know what it is. Drop it in the comments. We should all be celebrating the handful of things in life that are “just for us.” No committee. No strategy. No scaling. Just joy.

And if you don’t have something yet, go find something. You deserve it.

-k

If this hit home (or made you laugh), go ahead and hit that subscribe button. I’ll keep writing it for me, but I’d be honored if you came along for the ride.