In December I had a second miscarriage, four months after the first (and two weeks before Christmas). And both its discovery and its loss happened in the single span of the week my husband had COVID.

I didn’t mourn the loss of this pregnancy in the same way. I didn’t have time enough to grasp the reality of a new pregnancy before it was gone. And as my midwife warned, it proved a strong reminder of the first experience - which didn’t feel traumatic in the moment, but my mind-body-soul desperately wished to avoid the experience again.

Even so, my heart hurts lately, in that deep, painful way that makes me want to escape - with the anxious realization that I can’t. I understand, intellectually, that this feeling is here for me, purposeful in its embrace of my whole body.

And yet I’m resisting, intensely.

Social media is considered “the” place to share your work on the internet, right? This is partly because nearly everyone uses social media (making it, quite literally, the biggest and farthest-reaching “social network”) and partly because it’s “free” …as long as you’re willing to sacrifice your time to the algorithm and some personal information for big-spending advertisers.

But marketing my work on social media has never worked for me. Not for my money-making work and not for my mind/body/soul.

And here’s why.

The Alchemist later became a mega-success. It’s been translated from Portuguese into 80+ languages and it’s spent a record-breaking 400 weeks on the New York Times bestseller list.

But Paulo Coelho’s bleak first-experience as a published writer gives me so much hope for not-yet possibilities in my own life now (particularly as someone who writes things).

One of my favorite authors (one of the most influential authors of my time! an author who’s been interviewed by Oprah!) was “forty-one and desperate” before he published his first book; and it was massively unsuccessful and generally ignored for years before anyone started reading it.

That didn’t stop him from writing it or publishing it (twice).

I recently signed up to receive business advice from a local group of volunteers, many of whom are retired from their own small companies or freelance work.

Aside from some possibly out-dated advice about marketing, I left with this feeling of unease in my belly.

My mentor suggested I eliminate anything from my website, my marketing, and my work that is not directly related to selling my copywriting services. Because that's what makes money; that's what prospective clients want to see.

And he is right. That's how a business makes money inside our current systems. Pick one thing, preferably the most lucrative, and “optimize” that thing until you can’t anymore.

And yet.

My work for other people, while I enjoy it immensely, is not the only thing I’d like to highlight - on my website or otherwise.