The phase every Substack creator goes through (and why most quit before the good part)
Nobody talks about this part. Probably because it's not pretty.
Two years ago, right before I launched my Substack, I was sitting in my kitchen filling notebooks with niche ideas, color-coded lists, content categories, revenue calculations. I had bookmarks saved for days. The strategy looked gorgeous on paper.
Then I hit publish and realized within weeks: nope. Not this.
I changed my publication’s name. Changed my topic. Changed it again. The first few months (or a year…) were a mess, the kind of where you stare at your screen and think, “What am I even doing here?”
And this isn’t just my story. I’ve worked with enough creators by now to know this is basically a universal phase. Everyone wants the shortcut. The perfect niche. The strategy that skips the awkward part. Nobody wants to hear that the awkward part IS the strategy.
But after two years, dozens of clients, and an honestly embarrassing amount of overthinking, here’s what I know for sure:
The answer doesn’t come before you start. It comes while you’re in the middle of it, probably doubting everything.
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You can’t think your way into your niche
Yeah, I know. Sounds like a poster in a yoga studio, but hear me out.
About a year ago I started doing this thing where I’d pick creators I admire, the ones who seem like they’ve had it figured out since birth, and scroll all the way back to their earliest content.
Guess what I found? They were posting about completely different things. Different tone, different topics, sometimes a different name entirely. They were figuring it out in real time, in public, one messy post at a time.
Nobody woke up one morning as the polished creator you follow today. They became that through posting, failing, trying something else, posting again. The niche wasn’t where they started. It’s where they ended up.
The shitty phase is not optional
I need to be straight with you. If you’re hoping to start your Substack and have everything click into place, that’s not going to happen.
There’s a phase where your posts feel off. Your subscriber count doesn’t move. You’re not sure anyone’s reading. You wonder if you picked the wrong topic, the wrong platform, the wrong everything.
This is the shitty phase. Welcome.
The difference between creators who make it and those who disappear after three months? It’s not talent. It’s not some secret strategy. It’s just the willingness to keep showing up when everything feels wrong.
What actually changed things for me
At some point I stopped panic-consuming.