What you Mean to Me
This weekend, I became a "Substack bestseller". Naturally, I have lots of thoughts on the matter.
Hello beloved community of readers! I'm feeling extra flowery today (and if you've been here a minute...you know I'm pretty flowery at baseline) because I became a "Substack bestseller" over the weekend!! This means that I have over 100 paid subscribers. I also just passed the threshold of 5,000 free subscribers, which is equally mind-boggling to me.
Especially given the amount of corporate cowardice in backing away from DEI, my work as a public speaker on transgender inclusion feels a bit more stressful than usual. Paid subscribers to this newsletter—a publication I spend at least 10 hours a week working on—have genuinely helped me sleep better at night knowing that there will be ways to support myself even if speeches slow down for a little while. To everyone who has sent the message that my work and expertise are valuable to you, I hear you loud and clear. Thank you so much.
If you want to help with this stress in another way, I would love to speak for your workplace, ERG, congregation, PFLAG chapter, youth group, networking squad, or any other place where people gather!
The ways you have changed my life
When I started this newsletter, I had no idea what it was going to be. As I've written about a number of times, I've become very used to becoming my own hero and stepping up to be the changes I wanted to see in the world. This project was no exception.
I knew I was frustrated by the hopelessness I saw in those around me, and I wanted to share good news stories that folks hadn't heard before. I'd already tried making this a post series on instagram or tiktok, but found middling success at best.
As I started to share posts on here, my subscriber count slowly started to tick up, and I hit my stride with the stories I wanted to share and the hope I wanted to bring. I was getting encouraging feedback from those around me, and I started to dream about what this could be.
Then, I woke up on November 6th around 5am. It was not a good day. I was frightened, and for a moment I felt adrift in an endless, uncaring ocean.
But I remembered that I had at least 700 people who'd gotten accustomed to looking to me to ask "is it going to be okay?" and they would certainly be looking to me today. So I got to work.
I sat down to write the article "Where do we go from here?" amidst all my other advocacy efforts, and then I sent it out to the world. I hoped it would help someone find some hope to hang onto.
Where do we go from here?
Hey, reader. It’s been a long night, and a night that ended with terrible, somber news about the U.S. Presidency.
This moment, this article, the choices I made about how I wanted to show up post-election all turned out to have been incredibly crystallizing for me.
With the response I got to this article and countless others to follow, my certainty grew like a rising tide. This is my purpose in this world: not only to be a source of hope, but to teach others how to use hope and joy as a fountain of strength to draw upon as they learn to change the world.
This sense of newfound purpose has been helpful for me in the past few months, and even more critical in the past few weeks. Every week, I get to keep prioritizing my search for good news, searching it out and accumulating it to share it with you all as I write up these articles. I am constantly aware of how much good there is happening in the world, how strong the resistance is to attacks on our community and the others around us.
Sitting down to write these articles every week and reflecting on how I might best inspire you all to not give up is one of the most joyful, reliable parts of my day.
But these are all the parts I do alone. The true heart and meaning of this project comes from you all. I hear from parents learning how to become champion advocates to protect their kids. I hear from people who tell me how something in them unclenches every week when they start to read my posts. I hear from people who are feeling energized and motivated enough to start truly acting on the dreams they have for what the world could look like.
I hear from you all in your comments, your emails, your notes and messages. Even if I don't have the bandwidth to respond to every one right away, I want you to know I read them all and I hold you all so close in my heart. You all keep me sane. You keep me hopeful, you keep me writing, you keep me confident in the world we are building together.
I see you all. I truly cherish the stories I hear from you. Whether you've been here from the beginning, or you're newer to the club, I'm so, so glad you're here. You make it easier for me to choose joy, and I hope I can do the same for you through my work here.
As always, please continue to let me know what I can do to make this newsletter better. If there are areas you'd like me to focus, things you'd like me to reflect on, or stories that you wish more people were celebrating (the more local the better!) I am always eager to please.
That's all for now. I'm not going anywhere.
With love,
Ben
Don’t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.
Howard Thurman
❤️
As a person in the process of trying to get top surgery, reading Good Queer News helps me keep from spiraling or falling into the pit trap of impotent grief for all trans and queer people fighting just to get basic needs met. Positivity isn't a silly way to respond to strife or concern, it's an important pole to set your compass to. We're striving for joy, right? We have to know what it feels like along the way. Thank you.