S3, #51 - THE STREAK: 157
Wrapping up this grand experiment so a better one can begin
Y’all are an amazing group of people, dear readers. You are the reason I keep going here, the reason I have continued to post, faithfully, without fail, for all these weeks, months, years. You’ve stuck by me with encouragement and support as I’ve stumbled, rambled, wandered—course-corrected—then stumbled, rambled, and wandered some more.
Those of you who have been around this Substack the longest, the early readers from the awkward stages of 2023, have seen me change not only this publication’s name and format, but even the course of what I write about here. My husband and I both are known for that sort of thing, actually. We are masters of the pivot. We try something for a while, see if we like it, and move on to something different if we don’t.
Case in point, we tried the American Dream for fifty-plus years, then dropped it like a hot potato, sold everything, and took off to live as international nomads. We embrace change.
But for the last three years, I have stubbornly persisted here on Substack. Today, in fact, marks my 157th consecutive Tuesday post, three full years of writing something for you every week.
I’ve posted every Tuesday, even when I was tired, when I was sick, when I’ve lost track of what time zone I’m in. I’ve posted when it meant I would have to skip out on something important to me. I’ve posted when I refused to skip out on an important activity and instead stayed up the entire night to get the job done.
I’ve written these posts from 13 different countries and half of the United States and Canadian provinces. I’ve written from within our little yellow home on wheels, as well as from the bouncy passenger seat in the cab as we roll down the road. I’ve written on trains and airplanes, boats and buses. I’ve written from friends’ houses, temporary apartments, hotel rooms, backpacker hostels, coffee shops, libraries, city parks, as well as from inside a cold storage unit where we lived illegally for a month. I’ve pounded laptop’s keys on mountainsides and beaches, in canyons, and along riverbanks. I even traveled three months without a computer and tapped out a dozen entire posts on my phone.
Why?
Good question.
I don’t really know. I just wanted to see if I could, I guess. I wanted to test my own perseverance and discipline. I wanted to see if I could keep the streak going without ever running up against an absolutely insurmountable challenge.
So, what have I learned over the course of 157 Tuesday posts? Enough to know I want to keep going but will need to make some major structural changes in order to do so. What changes? Stay tuned. That will be the topic for next Tuesday, the inaugural post of Year 4, the official relaunch of this Substack.
For now, I will wrap up Year 3 by sharing links to a few of the posts that have brought us from June 2023 until now—some you may remember, and some you may have missed along the way.
The first three links are to some very popular posts, as measured by assorted metrics. The next four are a few of my own personal favorites, for a variety of reasons. Enjoy browsing, even if you just scan for the photos and highlights.
Much love to you all. Really, I can’t thank you enough. Your presence here has driven me to be the writer I am today and hope to become in the future.
The tense one I wrote in secret when we were in crisis:
The joyful one about giving out mom hugs and accidentally getting run over by a Pride float:
The difficult one about a beloved child dying too soon:
The funny one about menopause:
The poignant one about getting rid of all our stuff, in which I rewrote a classic children’s book:
The serious one about the woman with a secret, the woman whose words haunt me still:
The courageous one where I had to face a genuine fear:
Drum Roll, Please…
I’m truly excited to share the restructured, redesigned, repurposed Nomadic MidLife with you in next Tuesday’s post. We are not done here. On the contrary, we are just getting started!
Looking forward to next week