Reflections from the Substack Community

Writers share the truths, surprises, and self-discoveries they’ve uncovered here

Small lights, shared space; Photo by Bobby on Unsplash

When I first asked the question — What’s something you’ve learned about yourself on Substack? — I thought I was simply inviting reflection. What I didn’t expect was the depth, vulnerability, and generosity that came back.

Reading through these responses reminded me that writing isn’t just about words on a page. It’s about connection: the courage to speak, the willingness to be heard, and the gift of being met with empathy.

Here’s what you had to say.

I have learned that I come here to seek peace. Somehow unintentionally making friends I didn't know I needed. Like-minded people who contain some of the most creative vibrant minds I have ever come across. People who get me. —

Tangled Words

I think I have been overjoyed to learn that there are so many brilliant writers of incredibly diverse backgrounds on this platform that I adore and truly appreciate. I think I fell into a habit of reading particular kinds of literature for years, but coming here made me realize that youthful worries, fears of unpublished writers, and so many more brilliant authors and topics could hold my attention and take me away from my own fears and worries for hours at a time. Substack has given me hope when it was otherwise in very short supply. Not to be melodramatic, but I told one writer that she actually made me want to see what would happen in the future, when I really didn’t care before. (This sounds of hyperbole, but for me it has been true). —

Chris Keller

I've learned, ultimately the number of subscribers a person has, doesn't matter, it's the friendships we cultivate and the individuals who see themselves through our words is what's most important!

If my writing can embrace someone’s heart, and they're able to see through the reflection of my words—really see themselves in the mirror peering back at them, like they're not alone in their struggles or experiences, that's all I ask for! ☪️🖤 —

🔥Flame the Firekeeper🔥

Honestly I’m still in the thick of learning. Substack keeps showing me things I didn’t even know I needed to unpack yet. So maybe the biggest thing I’ve learned so far is that I’m very much still in the process but enjoying the journey. —

Outtamydamnmind 🧷

What I have learned is that we are all diverse. That is a lesson in itself. I have also found that Substack is a platform that draws people together. We are driven differently. I am in no rush to multiply my subscribers. Finally, one can lose sight of themselves if we try and read everything and I came down with a bump when I realized that. I do try to read each day. This is a great place to grow and try different writing. I enjoy the prompts from fellow writers. Indeed. This is a great place to be. 🌸 —

Brenda - A Voice that Wonders

Sometimes the words pour out of me, welcomed by this sacred space. Other times, I feel exposed and cut open and feel the need to hide from it. I’m still figuring out what that means, or how to deal with it. Suggestions welcome. —

Gonzo Girl

A small clearing, a sudden truth; Photo by Adam Patterson on Unsplash

I learned that the way to build an audience that lasts is not through spamming my writing into everybody else's life but allowing them to find me organically by interacting with them and creating a relevant space just like this where they feel safe. I've learned that what really connects me is being authentic and genuinely caring about people... That it's okay just to be me. —

Bear Sage

A Note to Myself
By Bear Sage

I arrived quiet, unsure
if my words would stumble,
if anyone would hear them
beyond the echo of my own doubt.

But here I learned
my voice carries strength, even trembling.
It carries courage, even cracked open,
and it does not disappear.

I found friendship
in the corners of sentences,
support woven in comments
like hands I didn’t know were waiting
to hold me steady.

This page has become
a mirror and a lantern:
reflecting the parts of me
I once hid,
illuminating the road
I did not know I had the courage to walk.

I have been witnessed here
not as a shadow,
but as someone worth listening to,
someone who can hold another’s story
while still telling my own.

The words I’ve left behind
are no longer whispers in a void;
they are roots,
reaching toward others,
pulling me steady,
reminding me I belong.

So I write this note
to remind myself
I am not alone,
I am not voiceless,
and I have found
a home in these words.

I’ve learned that creativity and empathy is alive and well.

I officially activated Substack on August 25 because I was ready to share my son Bray Bray’s smile — and his warrior journey — with the world. (Origin story for context here: https://substack.com/@chrisbwrites/p-171939845)

I share this through the lens of being his dad, as I lend him my voice since he can’t speak for himself. What I’ve learned is I’ve only scratched the surface of how far his smile can travel and how much our story resonates with others.

Since then, I’ve also learned how much I love this platform — it is truly inspiring and motivating to engage and connect with fellow artists, poets, life hack providers, photographers, caregivers, music fans, and optimists. As someone who remains a dreamer even while trudging through the mud at times, I see that same depth in my fellow Substackers. It makes me want to be here — connecting, engaging, and creating… That’s all from me. —

Chris B. Writes

What I have learned is that I’m not alone in my feelings and I have learned not to be ashamed of myself for having those feelings. —

Almost Full Disclosure

I’ve learned that while writing about my past helps me process it, sharing that writing with others cracks something inside me wide open. It isn’t always easy, but connecting with the empathetic people I’ve found here is the missing piece. That’s where the real healing begins, where I start to move forward and imagine this journey not only as one that helps me, but as one that may help others, too.

That has always been my heart’s deepest desire. The well is deep, and sometimes I sink to the bottom... but your reaching hands help pull me back to the place where I can breathe.

This community is a gift, and I feel blessed to know you all. —

Liora Writes

Light, held and shared; Photo by Arnab Dey on Unsplash

Blessed to know each of you

These answers left me feeling both humbled and inspired. They’re proof that writing here is about far more than metrics; it’s about the friendships, the mirrors we hold up for one another, and the hands that reach for us when the well feels too deep.

Thank you to everyone who shared a piece of yourselves. May we keep reminding each other: we are not alone, our words matter, and this community is stronger because of each of you.

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Prompt Refresher

If you haven’t chimed in on last week’s prompts, you’ve still got time. I’m extending the window and will gather responses next Thursday, September 25. Drop your piece in the comments or link your post or in chat.

1️⃣ Shadows — As the days shorten, you notice shadows stretching far past their owners, pooling at corners and climbing fences. One shadow slips free and points somewhere — where someone or something lost might still be waiting.

2️⃣ Borrowed memories — You wake with a stranger’s memories stitched through your mind: all revolving around a Harvest Moon. Each time you follow one, reality reshuffles to fit it.

3️⃣ Time-change hour — On the night the clocks fall back, you get the lost hour as a do-over. Your actions in this time prevent something small and break something big.

Drop your response as a link to your post or right here in chat anytime between now and next Thursday evening. On Friday, I’ll gather everyone’s pieces into a Collective Sparks post to highlight your beautiful work, so we can celebrate, discuss, and amplify each other.

Can’t wait to see what you all do with this 💜

Thank you to those who participated last round, I’ll have the post up tomorrow!

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Newsletter

Quick programming note: my monthly newsletter is running a little late this month while I finish launching Through the Fire, Vol. I: The Pressure. I’ll send it soon with real updates (not filler) on what’s changing and what’s next. Thanks for rolling with me. 💜 — Liora

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