I feel like an “out-of-touch nob fossil* when it comes to social media.

Like, do I really have to create little 30 second videos of me living my best life in which I’m not actually living any kind of life because I’m too busy setting up a tripod?

Laughing nonchalantly into the camera that I haven’t noticed?

Bloody Good Bloke springing from behind the fridge with an iPhone to capture me in the wild, foraging for chocolate mousse?

With my eyebrows all combed upwards to look like little ginger sheep?

Berk. Social media makes me want to prune trees.

*Note: I nicked “out-of-touch nob fossil” from Ash Ambirge’s highly readable newsletter:

“It brings back a nostalgia for the early blogging days, when life was easier, ideas mattered, and not everything was a beauty contest requiring a white marble kitchen in the background and a golden retriever named Iris. The idea that a writer could simply write again, and not feel like an out-of-touch nob fossil trying to be current on social media, is the real brilliance behind Substack”

I amen-ed so hard I nearly tripped over my golden retriever.

As most of you know, I was unwell with the XXXXL long version of the spicy cough last year (1.8 years long), and so I paused writing blogs to instead enjoy the comforts of lying down all day with a migraine, a hefty dose of cbf (technical term: fatigue), and a tissue permanently attached to my tear ducts.

Due to the tissue getting in the way, I wasn’t able to write many blog posts, and so the Insta and FB algorithm gave me the finger and have since dropped Project Self’s post reach like a sack of golden retrievers.

Facebook now only shows our posts to 1000 ish of our 12k followers, no matter how many people interact with it.

3-4k reach used to be the norm for blog posts, and even that was low.

If you want to keep in the loop with the Project Self blog posts, subscribe over here. My email list is now the only way to keep in touch with me.

Social media has never been a sport I’ve excelled at. 9 years running Project Self full time and only at 12k FB and < 3k Insta followers despite many thousands of avid readers on our newsletter list.

“Pathetic!” shouts Neville.

But, as I tell Nev, I write words, I don’t create visual content, which used to work ok on Facebook until Insta influencers swarmed the joint.

My strategy for “content” creation has always been to get my team to plaster a random photo of me willy nilly on top of a long form blog post and hope for the best.

When I was starting out back in 2014, posting recipes for “Suspiciously purple pho” and “Surprisingly OK vegan cheesecake”, I quickly learnt that unless the post was accompanied by a photo of me, it didn’t get any traction on social media (i.e. the algorithm didn’t bother to show it to anyone).

So even though it makes me cringe, photos of my face be everywhere around Project Self HQ these days.

But now the algorithms only want videos and reels, and I just feel a great deal of nah about it.

Despite being a subpar parsnip when it comes to social media, Project Self has continued to be a successful business for 9 years, with a team of 6 behind-the-scenes legends helping me out.

So I’ve decided it’s time to try out the new(ish) social media in town, (which is not really social media at all), Substack.

Substack is for readers and writers who like reading writing without having to wade through 99% clickbait fuckwittery to get to it. Kinda like Medium, but better.

Check out my Substack blog over here: andreafeatherstone.substack.com.

Same blog. Different platform.

I’ve temporarily called it Honest AF. Y’know, because my initials are AF. Butttt I’m 70% sure this is a bit lame, so it’s pretty likely it will change.

In case I haven’t told you enough lately, I’m SO grateful for you!

Thanks for reading my writing and making it possible for me to do what I love.

I love writing, I love being honest AF with each other about life, I love coaching the thousands of you I’ve had the privilege of working with, and I especially love your replies when you’re in the mood to say g’day.

Thank you for allowing me to hang out with your eyeballs, it’s a privilege I don’t take lightly.

Ps, I don’t have a golden retriever.