Avoiding the Straitjacket: How to Publish on Substack Without Losing Your Creative Soul

5 principles I return to that support a flourishing publishing practice and newsletter

There’s a particular kind of tension that shows up after you’ve been publishing on Substack for a while — especially if people are reading, responding and paying attention.

At first, you write from a spark and, yes, perhaps a big old pile of nerves.

Something wants to be said, so you say it. You follow the pulse of your own questions and curiosity. You publish from intuition, from integrity, maybe even with a sense of urgency.

But somewhere along the way, another voice shows up when it’s time to publish.

It says: Be careful. Stay on track. You’ve built something now — don’t risk it.

“It’s safer that way.”

Jonathan Fields

recently wrote about this shift in his own newsletter, Awake at the Wheel. He launched it, he said, “as a place to share something closer to the real me.” But in his words:

“I quickly fell into an old, safe voice... What’s come out is not fake... It’s just more constrained and contained than I wanted it to be. Why? Fear. It’s safer that way.”

That line — it’s safer that way — hit something so familiar.

Because I know how easy it is to trade voice for safety. And become legible, compliant, palatable — in writing, life, relationships — instead of alive.

I’ve seen it in clients. I’ve experienced it in myself countless times. I’ve watched brilliant, generous, spiritually grounded writers quietly drift away from the work they most want to do — often because the shape of the thing they’ve built no longer allows them to move.

That’s what today’s essay is about.

It’s about what principles can guide us to keep publishing, sustainably and skillfully, without losing touch with creative source. It’s about letting your readers come with you — not locking yourself into a version of your voice that no longer fits.

And for me, the only way I know how to do that is to keep a clear boundary in between the production of my newsletter and its creative core.

The only reason I have been writing for more than three years now on Substack is precisely because I guarded the sacredness of creative inspiration and made sure: the production of my newsletter must always work in service to the creative impulse — not the other way around.

​​What happens when we grip too tightly

I sometimes think of my relationship with publishing like fruit.

There’s a way to hold a piece of fruit with care — to press just enough to release the juice, to let the sweetness meet the air. But if you grip too hard, if you force the process or squeeze before it’s ready, you’re left with dry, mealy pulp. The joy of it, the vitality — dare, I say, the magic — is gone.

Publishing online, on Substack, anywhere really, can work the same way.

I’ve seen writers and creators grip their work too tightly, often after a period of growth or success.

Suddenly there’s more to maintain: expectations to meet, a schedule to uphold, a brand to protect. And instead of publishing from a place of conviction or possibility, they start publishing to preserve what’s already been built.

One creator I know built a beautiful, thriving publication — consistent and deeply nourishing for her audience. But as her subscriber count grew, so did the pressure. She tried to shift into a new register, creating from a more personal, quirky place. She launched a companion project — more personal insights, unscripted storytelling, behind-the-scenes chats — but the response was muted. Her audience didn’t come for that version of her. They came for the original rhythm. The new project was eventually folded and she’s now exploring other ways to creatively explore that also don’t threaten a main driver of income. What could have been a creative evolution became something she had to backpedal from — publicly.

And that’s the tension we can all encounter when we’re building in public, no matter our audience size.

You don’t just launch a project. You also pivot in public. You fail in public. You change your mind in public. You try something new and tend to its reception in real time. You nurture subscribers in real time. And while that can be beautiful, it can also create a subtle distortion — where creativity becomes riskier, and predictability starts to seem like the only safe path.

Publishing from sovereignty, not survival

The antidote, I believe, isn’t to abandon structure altogether.

Or to ignore everything about your audience or metrics or smart business decisions.

It’s to design a model that centers creative sovereignty — one that lets your rational mind and intuition work in partnership.

What does creative sovereignty look like for you?

For me, that means publishing in rhythm with my creative seasons (and trusting that my innate capacity as an autistic person is indeed trustworthy as a guide).

It means listening deeply to what I’m here to say, following that inner leading with some publishing best practices and making sure that my calendar serves that. It means paying attention to what my readers are resonating with, not to shape myself to meet it, but to understand the relationship I’m in. There’s a difference.

This is intuitive, human-centered publishing.

It’s a model built on trust — both in your readers and in your voice.

And from what I’ve observed, it’s also what makes certain Substack publications wildly successful. The ones that catch fire often do so not because they’re rigidly consistent, but because they’re weirdly, contagiously alive. The work feels lived-in, ever-evolving. It surprises even the person writing it.

That’s the reality I want for you. I want you to know how to create from that space of aliveness and also how to do so in a way that’s sustainable for readers to come along.

Grounding practices for a more intuitive, sustainable publishing rhythm

Here are a few principles I return to when things start to feel restrictive — when the creative core starts losing oxygen:

1. Isolate production from creativity.

Let your creative process lead. Publishing logistics — calendars, templates, tech, tools — should come later and live separately. They should serve the work. Not dictate it.

2. Don’t promise what you don’t want to keep repeating.

Recurring formats on Substack can be powerful. But if you build something you’re going to resent showing up for every week, your audience will feel it.

3. Build in breath.

Your publication needs room to breathe. So do you. If you’re running a series or a focused season of output, build in a season of decompression too. Let the work metabolize — for you, and for your subscribers.

4. Stay in relationship with your readers — without performing for them.

Your subscribers are real people. You’re in a relationship. That means you can be honest when things are shifting. You can show your work. Invite them in. That’s not weakness — it’s leadership.

5. When the signal changes, follow it.

Sometimes your voice shifts. Your rhythm changes. Your work asks you to grow. That doesn’t mean you’ve failed at consistency — it means something new is calling you forward.

A rhythm that supports your voice

If this way of working resonates with you — if you’re craving a slower, more human, more alive relationship with your publishing rhythm — The Publishing Spectrum might be a good place to land.

It’s where we explore sustainable creative practice, intuitive publishing strategy and how to stay rooted in your real voice while still showing up with your readers in mind. There’s a paid tier for folks who want to go deeper — offering tools, replays, seasonal data audits and behind-the-scenes guidance for publishing without formulas.

But more than anything, it’s a space where you don’t have to trade vitality for strategy. You can build something meaningful — on your terms, in your timing, with your voice intact.

No straitjackets required.

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🆕 Somatic Signaling Sessions

A new kind of publishing support — for paid readers inside The Publishing Spectrum

If you're sitting with friction — creative tension, stuck storytelling, questions about how to publish as your real self — I’d like to introduce you to something perhaps a little unorthodox in the world of strategic decision making and newsletter strategy.

This month I’m introducing Somatic Signaling Sessions for paid subscribers.

These aren’t content workshops or productivity checklists.

They’re quiet, guided spaces to tune into the deeper signals that live within your publishing life — the ones you’re likely already encountering. They’re the signals your body has already been gathering, but you might not have words for yet.

We start by identifying a place of friction for you individually — perhaps a story that’s stuck, a book idea that’s stalled, a decision to make about your publishing strategy — and then we tune into the somatic signaling spaces that I’ve found typically hold information our rational mind can’t immediately access in story form.

Because what I want more than anything is for all of us to publish from a place that’s unrestricted and clear-seeing. Where the insights of our creative voices aren’t battling the structure — they’re being supported by it.

This is where momentum lives. And it's available to you now.

The next Somatic Signaling Session will be hosted for free in a livestream tomorrow on Substack. I hope to see you there.