Why I am Migrating to Substack

My whole life, my dream has been to become a full time writer and Author. Since I was a little girl, i’d dream of walking the streets of New York, to a high rise tower, where I would write columns as a journalist.

That dream became shattered in high school when l, instead of encouraging me to follow my dreams, my favourite teacher told me that I should pursue something “less competitive”.

In some ways I am grateful - I have moved on a less expected path and have discovered gifts that I have that I would not have if I did not pursue a degree in the field of Health and Wellness. That pathway unlocked my gifts as a Medical Intuitive and gave me some kind of structure to help people in that field.

And the funny thing is, that my life has done a full circle and I am back where I started, writing books, and now articles, on this platform.

I have had to do a lot of work to undo the curse of the broken artist. For most of my life, writing was something I did on the side. A hobby. Something I loved but never truly believed could pay the bills, let alone build a life. The idea of being a writer, someone who earns real money from words, felt like a dream reserved for a lucky few.

Substack is quietly dismantling that belief. For me, and for thousands of writers like me.

A Platform Built for Writers, Not Advertisers

Substack didn’t emerge from a corporate boardroom looking to monetise attention. It was founded in 2017 by three people - Chris Best, Jairaj Sethi, and Hamish McKenzie, who were genuinely frustrated with what the internet had done to writing.

McKenzie was a journalist who had grown disillusioned watching ad-driven media warp what got published. Best had seen the power of direct communication at Kik. Together, they asked a deceptively simple question: What if writers could publish directly to readers- and get paid for it?

Their mission wasn’t complicated: to build a better future for writers by giving them a way to earn money directly and on their own terms. No algorithms deciding who gets seen. No advertisers dictating what’s worth writing. No editors standing between a writer and their audience.

The model is straightforward: writers keep 90% of every subscription they earn. Substack takes 10%. That’s it. Your list belongs to you. Your content belongs to you. Your readers belong to you.

Rewriting the Narrative Around Writing as a Career

The old story went like this: writing is noble but not practical. Get a real job. Write on weekends if you must.

That story was shaped by an industry that had structurally undervalued writers for decades. Ad-dependent media needed clicks, not depth. Algorithms rewarded outrage, not craft. By 2020, the U.S. media industry had shed more than 30,000 jobs. Traditional publishing gatekeepers tightened their grip while the doors got narrower.

What Substack offered was a door that didn’t require anyone’s permission to walk through.

Writers who had spent years pitching to editors, chasing trends, or quietly shelving their best work suddenly had a direct line to readers who wanted to pay for what they were writing. Not because it went viral. Not because it fit a content brief. But because it was good, and it resonated.

Some have built six-figure incomes. Others have built communities that feel more like movements. High-profile names like Heather Cox Richardson and George Saunders found homes here; but so have thousands of independent voices writing about faith, food, grief, parenting, and everything in between.

Where I Am Right Now

I’ll be honest with you: I’m not financially there yet.

I haven’t quit my day job. I haven’t reached the milestone where Substack income feels stable. But something shifted recently that I can’t stop thinking about.

I found myself ranked #70 in the Rising section of Faith & Spirituality on Substack.

To some, that might sound modest. But to me, it felt like a milestone - a little nod that I can in fact make a career out of doing what I love the most: writing. It means people are reading. Subscribing. Choosing to come back.

It’s a nudge. A real one. And on a platform designed to make that nudge mean something, it feels different than a like or a follower count ever did.

Why I Am Advocating for It

I advocate for Substack because I believe in what it’s building and I’ve felt it working.

There’s something profoundly different about a platform whose success is directly tied to your success as a writer. Substack doesn’t make money unless you make money. That alignment changes everything. It means the platform is, at a structural level, on your side.

For writers of faith. For writers of niche passions. For writers who have something true to say and no traditional outlet willing to say it with them, Substack is quietly becoming one of the most important platforms of our time.

Not because it’s perfect. But because it’s honest about what it is: a platform that believes writers deserve to earn a living from their work.

I believe that too. And I’m still becoming proof of it.

And so, if you’re a writer sitting on the fence about starting, then this is your nudge.