The Middle Finger Project

My latest, containing tons of sweary advice from my 15 years of living abroad — for anyone thinking about taking the leap! ✈️🌎👢🧥⛰️

Advice on Living Abroad, From a Woman Who's Spent Her Entire Adult Life in Foreign Countries Prepare to eat a f**kton of fish

Last night I heard sounds coming from the garage in this new farmhouse I bought in the country and I had to remind myself that I am a strong woman and it’s fu***ng fine and it’s probably just a woodchuck or raccoon or mass murderer (or something) so I turned on every single exterior flood light I have and pounded on the garage door and then had a mild heart attack and went to sleep with a buck knife next to my bed. 😂

Now it’s morning. The sun is shining. So I go outside with my green muck boots on (they’re olive) and I bring my coffee onto the porch and it’s all sunny and and sweet and everything looks totally safe and innocent and I’m all OOOOOH, FRESH AIRRRRRR and suddenly I like this place again, which is saying something because there have been many days where I’m like WHAT HAVE I DONE. And then I remember that what I have done is called living, and there’s something to be said about diving in, t**s first, when it comes to big, scary things, and isn’t it funny that most people are scared to go to Nicaragua or Colombia or Mexico or Chile or all of the places I traipsed through for years with a tube of red lipstick and total, blissful naivete—and yet for me, the idea of purchasing this regular old wooden house on a regular five-acre plot of land surrounded by hemlocks and woodpeckers and deer is just SO RADICAL???

Anyway, so I’m sitting out here in my morning bliss and suddenly I hear it again: the sound.

The same sound from last night.

Like someone is rummaging around in the garage.

It sounds like they are throwing nails, hammers, drill bits, cans of soda against the wall. (Because apparently I have a garage. And in the garage there are tools. And now I am supposed to, uh, use them?)

The adrenaline pumps. I stand up like a Viking warrior, despite the fact that I’m a human terrier dog, tongue out, armed with a popsicle stick and pair of fluffy slippers. It’s cute that I actually start to walk menacingly toward the garage like I’m actually going to confront this person / goblin / Ted Bundy who has no respect for my peace of mind / cortisol levels / fact that I am really just a nice girl who wants to wallpaper some walls in a print I will regret.

Oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god.

[Continue reading! ⬇️]

There’s Murderer in My Garage—And I’m Armed With a F*cking Popsicle Stick Adventures in buying a big, old, weird house as a woman by myself, CONTINUED.

Despite how much I’m sure we would all enjoy a column from me about raw chicken breast 🐔, I wanted to write about my experience making and selling online courses for over a decade, now, because it’s an unconventional career option that I think has been grossly underestimated by “the real world.”

Unconventional Career Spotlight: Make $100K+ With Online Courses A hot new way for creatives to earn a living—if they do it right.

You are not an as***le.

Sometimes you just need sleep, space, alone time, nourishment, laughter, blankets, books, movies, hot tea, healing, quiet, and about four hundred pounds of refrigerated pasta you can’t be bothered to warm.

Wrote a post this morning about:

(a) Buying a house as a woman on my own with no partner or co-signer or anyone to tell me what I can and can’t do (LOOK AT ME GO)

(b) Trying to figure out water wells and water tables and toilet water and water drainage and pressure washers, and why don’t we learn these things in school?!?!?!

(c) Realizing that you are a motherfu***ng badass who can do hard things, even if you are delirious

Seriously tho if you take nothing from this piece, pls understand that pressure washers are your new best friend and I think you forego groceries for a while so you can buy one because IT WILL CHANGE YOUR LIFE, THE END.

I Bought a Big, Weird House as a Woman By Myself LOOK AT ME DOING WHAT I WANT

SH****NG WHISKEY-SOAKED UNICORNS 🥃🦄 to have re-launched The Middle Finger Project today, and with a sharp new focus: unpopular ideas on living a happier life.

But you know what I’m most looking forward to?

The writing.

I’ve been writing this column since 2009, and you know what happens when you write your ideas down, over and over and over again?

You figure out who you are.

Because you finally figure out what you actually *think*.

THIS IS SURPRISINGLY HARD TO DO.

You don’t just wake up having opinions; these things must be formed, shaped, considered, moulded. Most of us don’t have the space in our day to do this work. It is only the writer, whose trade requires it, that makes a daily practice of it. And, what a gift! Bigger than a fu***ng Porsche! Which I still don’t really know if I should pronounce that “porsh” or “porsh-uhhhh.” F**k, it’s probably pronounced “pickle,” BUT THAT IS MY CROSS TO BEAR.

ANYWAY—

It’s great to be back.

I’m looking forward to finding the universal truths among us all here in this community that’ll help us live happier lives, the unconventional way. ⚡️

Make sure you're subscribed! I send everything via email here:

https://middlefingerproject.substack.com/

Looooooove,

Ash

Still writing the s**t out of The Middle Finger Project
Still Suspicious of Fish Since 1984

The Middle Finger Project with Ash Ambirge | Substack Tens of thousands of subscribers. Unpopular ideas on how to lead a happier life. ⚡️ Raising hell & writing about living abroad, being unmarried, running a creative business, choosing no children, and making the kinds of decisions that feel EFFERVESCENT. Click to read The Middle Finger Project wi...

NEW MUST-READ BOOK! 📖🎉😻

My incredible friend Jamie Varon wrote this novel for any woman who is waiting to be thinner in order to take photos…to travel…to wear cute clothes…to attend the event…to make herself the star of her own story.

MAIN CHARACTER ENERGY is out today—and this bitch wrote the s**t out of it. So proud of you, Jamie!!!!!!

This is for my 16 year old self Or, why I wrote Main Character Energy

I’m spending the summer in my hometown, and there are THINGS I AM LEARNING. You know, like how to drive a four-wheeler. And how to throw an axe. And how to do shots of Crown Apple. (Basically things I learned growing up, but had long since forgotten—especially when it comes to to shots. Here I am, wanting to sip whisky in a glass with a touch of water, and here they are, telling me to go f*ck myself. I LOVE IT.)

But, you know what I’m really learning?

How to get back to the basics—and love your life again.

I have been preaching the shiiiiiiiit out of this all year, which is why I called this column “Selfish Forever”: it’s about doing what YOU want and need—regardless of the pressure to be fancy, moneyed YouTube stars who live in mansions—and learn how to find happiness in simplicity again.

Cabin in the woods? Check.
Quiet time reading? Check.
Long mornings writing? Check.
Fresh string beans from the garden? Check.

These are all signs of what I call Selfish Wealth: when you finally realize what’s important and start building these types of assets.

For too long, we’ve only focused on money as the primary metric for success, but what if you could make a generous $250,000+ income….*and also* have plenty of time left over for pleasure?

THAT IS THE GOAL OF EVERYTHING HERE AT SELFISH.

Because, yeah, you can start an online business. Yeah, you can start selling your services. Yeah, you can start building an app. Yeah, you can start any number of things to make yourself financially successful.

We have been doing that for over a decade now.

When I got into this space in 2009, the idea of *making money on the internet* was a novel one. But now, you know what’s novel???

The idea that you can get off the internet sometimes, too.

To remember what life is all about—not just life behind a screen, but life out in the grass, in your bare feet, picking some fu***ng wildflowers like a motherfu***ng gangster.

Alas, that’s why I decided to spend the summer in the place where I grew up: a place full of meadows and fields, cows and barns, hemlocks and pines, trout and minnows. I wanted to REALLY lean into this idea; see how it felt; look at life from the other side.

And, I’ll tell you what: it’s one of the best decisions I’ve made for myself in a long time. (In fact, I’m even purchasing a gorgeous historic 1873 property here, set on 5 acres of land with a guest house and a barn—more on that SOON!!!! 🏡)

So, I thought I’d share some of the lessons I’m learning on this journey, as I work to re-wild myself—and prioritize the things I want to prioritize in life (like how to use a drill 😂).

BEHOLD: fifteen things I’ve learned since spending the summer in my tiny-ass hometown:

1. Rolling down grassy hills in the middle of the day is an *excellent* use of time. Cue: me, racing my best friend’s kid to the bottom, and showing absolutely NO MERCY.

2. Showing up and doing an honest day’s work every day is better than bulls**tting your way through a 4-hour work week. Enough trying to hack your way to happiness. Why not simply pick something that makes you happy, and just work hard at it? Go ahead: PICK SOMETHING FUN. Pick something you enjoy. That’s what life is about: not being a prestigious as***le, but being a happy one. THE MONEY COMES WHEN YOU COME. Oh god, what did I just do there??? See, I’m spending too much time here already. But, maybe there’s something to that: fulfillment comes from doing things that *fulfill you*. Yup, that’s the PG version, and I’m sticking to it. But, seriously: can we stop making decisions based on what our ego wants, and start making them based on what our hearts do??? You can sell accounting services online, or you can sell your grandmother’s favorite baking recipes: both will bring you money, but only one will bring you joy. BE SELFISH WITH YOUR JOY.

3. You can build a business with a mouth. You can build a fortune with a hundred mouths. The way business is done here is simple: you ask the bartender if they know anybody who cuts down trees, and the bartender gives you their brother-in-law’s phone number. I call this “The Trust Economy”—and believe it or not, it works the same way online…but on a much bigger scale. The trick, however, is this: becoming the tree guy. Can people automatically connect your name to a need? Most people suffer with marketing because they aren’t clear enough about what THEIR THING is—and that means that other people aren’t clear, either. But, when you become “the tree guy,” anytime anyone mentions trees, you get your marketing done for *free*. This is different than being in “landscaping”—which, while sounding all professional, actually makes you a dime-a-dozen. 🤷‍♀️

4. Knowing people feels good—and, it’s not just in your head. There’s comfort in connection. You can spend a lifetime online *being* connected, and never once feel connected. (The majority of people online.) Or, you can walk into a hardware store in the middle of town, stop and chat with three of your neighbors, and suddenly feel like you belong. These are two very different contexts, and yet, only one of them is making teens commit su***de. 🧐 WOW, THAT GOT DARK FAST, but…um…considering that the research shows that loneliness & social isolation causes premature death—and literally rivals the risks of smoking & obesity—we should probably rethink the ways we’re spending our time. Remember when people actually called one another? WILD.

5. Doing good deeds is different than doing good work. Most of us hate people—hahahahaha???—because most of us in this space are constantly being sucked dry: the people who want to pick your brain, the people who want to benefit from your audience, the people who want to piggyback off of your name. That’s kind of how internet culture evolved—the people who do the best work get thrust into the spotlight. As a result, a lot of us got “people fatigue”: another email, another DM, another request on our time. But, that’s because it’s all happening in a professional context—and sometimes, mental work is an invisible labor that isn’t always appreciated for what it costs the giver. (Hint: it’s mentally taxing AF.) But on the other hand, when you show up to help your neighbor move a bureau??? It’s entirely refreshing! You feel connected to people again! It’s human! It’s neighborly! You don’t actually mind! In fact, you’ll even bring iced tea. And that’s because there is a difference between work…and life. I DON’T KNOW IF WE FIGURED THAT OUT YET. But, yeah, we don’t actually want to work all the time. So when all of the requests on our time are constantly work-related??? We push back. Because we’d rather go help the neighbor push a bureau instead. Because doing good deeds is different than doing good work, and sometimes? We gotta remember that we’re humans, not machines.

6. Garage beers taste better—FACT. How has this escaped me for so long???????? I’ve been in the culture of wine bars / cocktail bars / London rooftop bars for so long, I forgot how nice it is to just have a cold beer in a garage, without spending $3,000 an evening. People around here hang out at each other’s houses way more than people in the city ever do, and at first I dreaded this (who wants to go to someone’s HOUSE?????) but now I am a professional. “Let’s take the 4-wheelers over!” I chant. And to be honest? The connections you make when you’re sitting around a campfire talking about childhood memories are stronger than the ones you do when you’re trying to impress some b**b in a suit—and I don’t care how much caviar is involved.

7. The best businesses solve real problems. People will give you money if you can help them solve an immediate need. This is different than helping them to self-actualize over the long-term—which is what most online businesses tend to be about. (”Empower yourself! Change your mindset! Clear your energy!”) There’s a space for both in this world, but sometimes, not everything you do needs to turn you into Brené Brown with lipstick. Sometimes, the easiest and clearest path forward is by simply asking: what’s a immediate need that people have, and how can I solve it for them? “I’ll get you one new client a week” is very different from “I’ll help you align your soul.”

8. Being worldly doesn’t make you classy. Being classy does. Something I’ve noticed: some of the quietest, least cosmopolitan people I know are more classy than some of the most visible, “successful” people I know. It’s entirely possible to know which fork to use and still be a classless ja***ff. Perhaps that’s because class doesn’t come from money: it comes from consideration. It’s about making others feel comfortable in social settings, regardless of what they’re wearing, who they know, and what they do for work. That’s classy—and, ironically, it’s something that many small-town folks get right over their cosmopolitan counterparts.

9. Enthusiasm is a superpower. You find your enthusiasm in small towns because you’re *allowed* to be guileless. You don’t have to put on any airs; don’t have to walk into the place like you’re the most important person in the room. Instead, you can marvel at the world without worrying that the world will think you stupid for it. And, what a freedom that is, to be able to be yourself. It’s one of the most refreshing things about small-town life, I’ve discovered: the ability to just be *you.*

10. Acknowledging others is one of the most human things we know how to do. THIS IS RANDOM but it’s a small joy that you won’t understand unless you’ve been in a small town and experienced it, and that’s THE CAR WAVE. I drive by this one house every day on a dirt road, and me and this woman wave at each other every single day, and every single day I feel a little closer to…god? EW, DID I JUST SAY THAT? I DID. PLEASE FORGIVE ME. I’M GETTING OLD. But really: everyone waves, and everyone acknowledges one another, because that’s what’s called a *community*. And it’s something I haven’t really experienced in a very long time.

11. Being a member of a community keeps you in integrity. Speaking of community! Something that’s striking here: you are more mindful about what you say and what you do, because you’ve got a reputation to keep—and you will bump into the same people over and over again…*in person* (gasp!). And that means one thing: you must act with integrity, because your delicate social fabric depends on it. While some people may call this “fake,” I call this “society.” And maybe the internet would do well if we had a little more of it.

12. Exposure shapes norms. What you see around you is what becomes your truth. Humans are a collective; we look to others to gain insight into the world, and to help us fill in the gaps in our own experience. When the people around you are all filling in the gap with the same information—”vote this way!”, for example—it becomes easy to believe that *this is the right way*. Unfortunately, “popular” doesn’t always mean “right”…but, maybe that’s the point. What is “right” is a construct, and it all comes down to what we see around us—that’s what feels right. Exposure, therefore, is one of the most important tools we have—and I think it’s one of the most underrated ways we have to change the world.

13. This world really is a different one. I know a guy who has never had an avocado. Nor a mango. Nor a bite of goat cheese. Never had a crabcake. Never ate burrata. Never paired a steak with wine. This tells me something important: small-town living really is different from big-city life. These are two very different worlds. And, that means that if you want to start having conversations about the things that matter? You’ve got to learn how to speak the right language. After all: you can’t sell someone an avocado *if they don’t want one.*

14. There is strength in being witnessed. You can do it all in a vacuum from behind a screen: build a business, build a following, write your email list. And sure, those are people there, seeing you, reading you, hearing your ideas. But what they’re getting is “presentation mode”—the writing you’ve edited, the parts you’ve polished, the photos you’ve tweaked. While that type of curation is necessary—it’s a part of the creative process—it also can leave you feeling one-dimensional. As humans, we need other people to witness us: the good *and* the bad, the perfect *and* the ugly. We need other people to witness our whole selves; we need people to come with us on our journey, and really know who we are. Otherwise, you can end up feeling like a caricature of yourself: a hollow, superficial stuntman whose life is nothing but a mere advertisement. And, I can think of no sadder outcome for a person who really fu***ng tried. (Which is all of us, by the way.)

15. Simple pleasures are just as transformative as extravagant experiences—so long as you remember how to enjoy them. I keep going back to this more than anything right now: the power of a dandelion, a blade of grass, a crisp breeze. We have forgotten how necessary these things are, and how important they are to our quality of life. We have forgotten about the very things that are right outside our own window. When you see something long enough, it becomes invisible—but, one of the best things you can do for yourself? *Is to remember how to see*. And sometimes, being in a small town does exactly that: gives you a more intimate lens with which to see the world around you. And to remind yourself that—no matter how overwhelming your world has gotten? There’s a gentle one waiting for you right here.

Well, now I know why people have guns!

When you’re at an Airbnb in the middle of the woods and the giant picture window in the living room doesn’t come with any curtains?! You, too, are going to start imagining a guy named Roger peering in with vacant eyes, ready to tie you up and slice off your fingerprints and make you sing songs from Sunday School while he severs your femoral artery and says a prayer for his mama.

As if you actually know any songs from Sunday School!

EMBARRASSING MISCALCULATION, ROGER.

F**king Roger, always fu***ng things up.

Well, guess what, Rog? That’s why I have a long stabby thing beside me. I may look like I’m all sweet and innocent in my white cotton-eyelet dress, but I’m actually a fire-breathing snow leopard and will kill everyone in this room. (That is, after I sweetly ask you about your childhood and build up your self-esteem and make you believe you can do great things and make you fall in love with me…then…that’s right when I got ‘em. ZAMMO!)

Or maybe I should just get curtains.

SO ANYWAY, HOW’S YOUR THURSDAY GOING???

Honestly it’s been a real ride, spending all of this time in my hometown. I have thought things. Many, many things. (Including the grand idea that somebody really needs to put back my childhood skating rink, dammit.) But, you know what’s striking me the most?

How good it feels to not have to be “on.”

We spend our lives putting on airs. Showing up to impress. Being the kind of person that people want to follow. (I could gag on a family of cockroaches.)

But you know what happens when you go home?

You run into 1,000 mirrors.

This person over here shows you who you were at age 14, when you had your first crush and your hair was still curly and your eyebrows were astonishing and yet nothing else mattered but the sentence they were going to say next.

Another person you run into shows you, through the mirror they hold, who you were at age 8, when you rollerbladed together in circles and circles and circles in your father’s barber shop, before swinging yourself right into the wall and knocking down his prized trout. The tail broke off. You’d never made a mistake like that before. You learned how to say you were sorry—and actually mean it.

Another person shows you what you were like at 17, when you met up at the Harford Fair, and you both tried to pretend you were only going to be friends. Is that girl still in there? their eyes ask. The one I fell in love with twenty-three 4th of Julys ago?

Someone else reminds you that you used to wear sweatshirts and slip ons to the store. That you used to make plans without dreading them. That you used to laugh with all your heart. That you used to be free.

These people have bore witness to your life. They were there for your every pimple, your every bad hair day, your every terrible outfit decision. They were there for your first date, your first kiss, your first detention. They were there the day you lost your friend. The day your mom died. The day life became more than a weekend down at the lake.

And, there’s something so transformative about that—this idea that, no matter where you’ve gone and what you’ve done and the accolades you’ve gotten and the f**k-ups you’ve accumulated, you’ll always just be you when you’re here. There is no need to peacock; no need to posture. No one would believe you, anyway. They know exactly who you are. Because there’s a part of you that will always be seventeen in a pair of Levis, walking through wet grass, hoping the lip gloss in your pocket will make you invincible.

For me, going home is like therapy: you can freeze time and stand still and check your alignment—has it all been worth it? And do you like who you see in the mirror now?

Sometimes we need that grounding. Especially when your head lives in the cloud—by which I mean the digital cloud, and by which I mean WE ARE SO DISCONNECTED.

This is the irony, isn’t it? More connected than ever to the world. Less connected to who we are inside of it.

I come home to recharge my soul batteries—which is absolutely the most annoying thing I’ve ever said. And honestly?

Who I am depends on where I am.

That’s not supposed to be the truth, is it? I’m supposed to be myself all the time! Wherever I go! Nothing can change me! I am STEEL!

But, being in a place is like being with a person: some people make you feel exhausted, drained, unable to listen to them for one more minute. And others? Well, they energize you. Build you up. Make you feel whole.

Places are like that, too.

They aren’t the backdrop to your life, but a leading character. And you’re always in conversation. The trees. The land. The fog. The sky.

Does the place where you are bring out your best qualities?

Or, does it suffocate your spirit?

Are you exhausted…or energized?

This alone is just one more reason why it’s critical to be able to live & work from anywhere: your health depends on it. Your happiness does, too. Do not underestimate the importance of feeling good when you walk out that door. The air becomes you. And, the way it feels to be there becomes your truth.

My only recommendation is that your soul-searching come with curtains.

And maybe your living room window, too.​

​Place is Effing THERAPY—And Where You Are Can Change Your Life Feeling suffocated & disconnected? Where you live might be impacting you more than you think.

I AM DECEASED—GO Gary Vaynerchuk!!!!!!!!

Today is one of the most exciting days of my professional career ... If you told 18 year-old Gary that this was gonna happen, he would have laughed you out of the room and probably fainted.

It's time we all collectively take a step back ❤️ ...

Check out the single, out now!! https://garyvee.com/takeastepback

I’ve got some uplifting advice today, and it’s these twenty-eight words:

Please, for the love of overpriced Aperol Spritzes worldwide, take your self-doubts, shove ‘em into a sausage, and ship ‘em out to sea before they drown you.

In the 3,000 years since I’ve been—oh god, I’m gonna say it—an “online entrepreneur,” which has now been rebranded as a “creator,” which is only marginally better and STILL GRATES ON MY KIDNEYS to say out loud because it makes you sound like a toddler with some crayon artwork, I can assure you of this profound truth:

If you want to create a rich & fulfilling creative career.

If you want to set up a life of pleasure and adventure and deep satisfaction where you can go on plane trips and read books and hike in the woods and take your kids to gasp at the world.

If you want to bring your work with you to Idaho to see your mom and visit your aunt and then take off for a month to Ireland to photograph the ocean, and squish the land between your toes, and dry off in front of a roaring fire with a whiskey and a stocky barman named Callum, and then go outside and look around at ancient castles and 800 year-old yew trees and feel like you are *alive*—

Then you cannot be a coward.

You must learn how to stand up to your own brain.

Because, you know what brains do? Awful, terrible things. Your brain tells you you’re fat. Your brain tells you you’re dumb. Your brain tells you your work’s not good enough. That whatever you put out will be disappointing garbage; that no one will want what you’ve made; that you’re a delusional muppet; that you could never charge for that; that you’ll be awake at three o’clock in the morning, hanging your sweaty, undeserving neck over your computer, shamefully sending people refunds by the light of a flickering Coke machine in a Motel 6.

(Motel 6 makes it into every nightmare, am I right?)

Your brain will try to convince you of ALL THE THINGS YOU AREN’T. That you aren’t witty enough, young enough, smart enough, cool enough, brave enough, important enough. Your brain will tell you you’re an obtuse, fungus-filled udder for even thinking you could write, draw, speak, paint, photograph, start a Substack…and actually make money with your ideas. Your brain will gaslight you & abuse you at every turn. *Who do you think you are?* it’ll say. *Nobody’s going to pay money for that*. You should really go back to doing what you know works: everything that you hate.

You’re trying really hard to just be happy and grateful for what you’ve got—which, to be clear, amounts to a bowl of cereal and an old box of #10 window envelopes. *You musn’t be greedy,* your brain will advise: *you must stop acting like you are so special. You aren’t special. So, why can’t you just be satisfied?*

Brains sabotage **the most beautiful ideas.

So, when you ask me: how can I do work I love—while also maybe traveling more and enjoying my life and learning the bagpipes and doing the kinds of creative projects I dream about?

I’ll tell you what the first question is:

Can you do what is necessary?

Can you silence your brain long enough to actually attempt something great?

This is not the same as doing what feels good. There’s a lot of talk about that, but I’m not interested in pursuing kumbaya but living like a pauper.

Being Selfish Forever—that’s the name of this column—is about maximizing pleasure and adventure *and,* critically, financial security. Yes to travel. Yes to experiences. Yes to being independent and free and excited by your own existence again. BUT ALSO—yes to mature achievements, and intellectual pursuits, and retirement accounts, and excellent health insurance, and maybe even an investment property in Maine that you rent out and also stay in whenever you feel like. (And also as many West Elm vases that can fit onto one marble-topped pedestal coffee table.)

Selfish Forever isn’t about chasing juvenile whims: this is about being an adult who’s decided to have their cake and eat it, too, because the modern world has given us options, and it’s time to stop listening to the demagogue inside your brain, and start analyzing what those options really are.

Art is worth money. Your *ideas* are worth money. Your creativity is a very real product in the modern economy.

A comforting and/or disturbing fact: 80% of the people who are successful are actually mediocre two-bits. But, they’re great at one thing: ex*****on. They follow the steps without overthinking it, and as a result? They’re more successful than someone sitting in their living room with a salami sandwich in their hand. Not because they’re brilliant, but because they’re *there*. They aren’t afraid to take up space. It’s a game of odds. This is the frustrating flipside of the internet: mediocre people find more success because mediocre people aren’t perfectionists. It's the people who really care that get the short end of the stick, because while they’re overthinking their every step, someone else is actually *taking* steps.

Can you do what is necessary?

What is necessary is the work—regardless of what you think about it. Regardless of how harshly you judge what you make. Regardless of your own opinion of as to whether it’s any good.

In a world that endlessly encourages us all to trust ourselves, maybe the real thing we need is a new kind of trust.

Not the kind of illusory, saccharine-filled unicorn trust that most vapid internet cheerleaders pump you with—”you’re great! you’re magic! wow, look at your t**s!”—but rather, the kind of deep, profound trust that comes from showing up to do the work every day, without fail, in solidarity with yourself, in order to honor what you actually want…instead of what you’ve convinced yourself is an acceptable substitute for the life you almost had, but didn’t.

Your Art is Worth Money (Brains Are As****es) Advice for creators with sneaky self-esteem