Wait, you’re actually paying for this?

(Shhh, hey paying members, I'm talking to you. It'll be our seeecret.)

Hey—

Every month, a handful of you actually pay to read my chaos. I have questions. And as I’m sitting here looking at the list of people who decided that reading my nonsense about unemployment, family dysfunction, and questionable life choices is worth actual money, I gotta ask: why?

No, seriously. Could you let me know?

I know what the survey data says—that you’re here for the personal stories, the warm and poignant essays about Asian American identity¹ (thanks, Lydia), that special mix of TMI and tech info that reminds you of the early internet (looking at you, Heidi).

But that’s the free subscribers talking.

You paid.²

That means something different.

Maybe you felt bad for me. Perhaps you’re my mom under a fake email address. (Mom, if you’re reading this: I know it’s you. The credit card statement gives it away.)

Here’s the thing—I’m trying to figure out how to make this worth your money. Not in a “let me growth-hack my way to financial stability” way, but in a “what actually matters to …