Vulnerability and Flowers

Readers Appreciate Honesty and Emotional Risk More than Ever

I notice something interesting as I continue to grow my reach on Substack and other social media platforms. The more vulnerable posts where I take the most risks receive more subscriptions and follows. My media statistics—which I typically don’t pay much attention to, but I glanced at recently—show this quite clearly.

When I posted a piece of writing about my Dad, who just passed, sharing words I read to him when he was still able to take them in and understand them, I received an outpouring of responses (public and private) and my largest Substack subscription increase in a month. The former is more meaningful to me than the latter, but it’s all worth noting.

Articles that give me the biggest vulnerability hangovers after pressing “send” are the best performing. They’re more personal, emotional, and raw. Now, this doesn’t mean I’m going to share all my private journal entries or every poem written out of grief and anguish, but it does get me thinking that perhaps what we’re all needing more of—in an age of AI and algorithms—is more raw, unadulterated honesty and content creation from the heart.

Let this be an invitation to you, if you choose to accept it, to not be afraid to share more from your soul, whether you write, create content on social media, or interact with other humans you care about. The statistics don’t lie.

So, in the spirit of that discovery, I’ll highlight the latest kitchen video I published on Instagram and TikTok, collaborating with my younger brother, who adds his humorous editing. I’ve shown you several of these already, and they all poke fun of my mannerisms (as a little brother would affectionately do), making me look even dorkier than I already am.

Yes, there is a risk in posting content that some people might not take seriously, but my next book’s audience includes people aged 18 to 35 who like, share, follow, and help make this content viral. One of my previous videos had over 20 million views on three different social platforms. Let me repeat that: 20 million views!

I used to dis social media, but I’m starting to appreciate the influence and power it can have, for better or worse. While the videos John and I create do have a brain-rot component (I own that, and I’m not sure how I feel about contributing to that, honestly), the comments show that what people are really interested in is the connection between him and me.

Watchers ask: How could I give so little f**ks that I let my brother do that to me? How old is your “little” brother? No way, you have a 20-year age difference and the same parents! How could a woman in her 50s eat bagels and still look healthy?

While some videos have less message or education than others, my brother is very careful not to edit out any meaningful commentary about how to have a healthy, easy relationship with food, something very counter to the militant health and wellness trends currently bursting on social.

So, while it’s a little slapstick, millions of people are now regularly watching our content and spreading around wholesome family love and joyful food messages. That’s my strategy: meeting young people where they’re at to capture their short attention spans and offer ways to nourish themselves that may be different from the diet and fatphobic culture they regularly see on social media. I hear over and over that it’s refreshing.

And while short video clips might give me viral status—which I continue to hope will bring an agent and publisher to my next book’s writing and keep my book sales robust—I’m still grateful that the long-form Substack literary newsletter format continues to interest readers like you. Note that this video is headlined on social with my typical, “Never letting my little brother edit my videos again!” Enjoy (at my expense, as always).

If you’d like to read more about what it's really like to go viral and see a couple more of the videos that John and I recently produced, you can find them in this article.

And while I have young people’s attention, I toss in lots of story photos of the unfurling of the natural world in Spring, heartfelt family sharing, kitchen dance parties of one, and serious articles about embodiment. In fact, I’m taking Substack’s paywall off this article about moving from body loathing to embodiment because several people wanted to read it. While I welcome paid subscriptions to this newsletter, I also want to make my writing accessible to all. This is subject matter I’m working on for my third book for young and new adults, so I welcome your comments and feedback.

And because we’re chatting about vulnerability here, I’ll share the story behind my third tattoo. Rosa rugosa, commonly known as the beach rose, is valued for its extreme hardiness in coastal places. Its dense growth habit and high salt tolerance make it an ecological plant for stabilizing beach dunes, cliffs, and banks and preventing erosion. The plant also has strong culinary and medicinal uses.

Beach Roses and Bumblebees

Rosa rugosa has beautiful fragrant flowers and edible rose hips rich in Vitamin C and antioxidants. The plant is scrappy (much like my clients—and myself) and able to withstand salty, poor-soil conditions. It’s often used in traditional Chinese medicine to treat stomach aches, irregular menstrual cycles, and problems with blood flow.

I grew up going to the ocean with my grandparents on my Dad’s side of the family, and my Nana taught me to appreciate the fragrance of beach roses and collecting sea glass. I lost my Nana at age twelve and just lost my Dad, so the beach rose honors their influence and the significance of the ocean in my life.

Rosa rugosa symbolizes love, admiration, and resilience, which I am feeling at this time of life. In Roman tradition, the rose (sometimes associated with this species) was hung above meetings to indicate that the matters discussed were sub rosa (under the rose), or secret. My not-so-secret wish is to live near the ocean someday, so that the salt air and rhythm of the surf, which have been so healing in my life at many different points, become part of my daily experience.

The wide and wild ocean has always called to and settled me during times of turmoil. It embraced me in lonely times. At a particularly sad time in my twenties, the waves—along with my Dad’s steady loving presence—soothed and gave me hope. During the Covid pandemic, my teen daughters and I took to the ocean on surfboards when we all had to be outside in order to be around other humans. The wildness and rhythmic nature of the sea still calls to me in this “open nest” time of life.

The sun and moon on my shoulder, the first tattoo I received at age 50, symbolizing my twin daughters, connects to the ocean (moon) and the beach rose (sun). I received my second tattoo a few months ago with my daughter Kyla while she studied abroad in Granada, Spain. The bumblebee symbolizes this transitional time of life and the shift to being busy in community and writing, sharing my sweetness more widely than family. Today’s beach rose tattoo, which I received with my daughter Ava while she was studying abroad in Florence, Italy, offers the bumblebee on my other arm some much-appreciated pollen.

Bumblebees are primary and highly effective pollinators of Rosa rugosa. They are especially attracted to the plant’s large, open-faced flowers and abundant, protein-rich pollen. Bumblebees use a technique called “buzz pollination,” which is not unlike the way my daughters say I “wiggle” when excited about something. Bumblebees grab the flower’s anthers and vibrate their flight muscles to release a cloud of pollen that is otherwise difficult to access.

Bumblebees are most active on Rosa rugosa during the first day a flower blooms, typically collecting the majority of the available pollen before noon. I typically do my most honest and clear writing in the earlier part of the day, often while others who might also share in my sweetness are sleeping.

As a champion of embodiment in my career and personal life, I adorn and honor my body with these flowers. I have learned that growing and gifting myself flowers, rather than waiting for a loved one to offer them to me, is essential and feeds my deep spiritual connection to the natural world and its miraculous, always-inspiring, deeply-humbling beauty.

Thank you to the incredibly talented artist Julie (@julie_tattoo) at Pachamama Tattoo in Florence, Italy (@pachamama_tattoo_florence) for adorning my body with these blossoms. Julie created the tattoo design with me, using inspiration from photos I shared and the natural movement of my dancerly arm. I feel blessed by Julie’s gentle sweetness and artistry.

Every Wednesday morning, I have a rehearsal with my dance company, Encore Dance Ensemble, a small local group of dancers over age 40. I’m choreographing a piece dedicated to my Dad, with a central theme of cell phone use and intimacy. There’s going to be some trumpet-forward music at the end of the three-part modern dance piece. Dad played trumpet as a young person, and he always appreciated music with good horns. It’s fun to do some creative work in the studio. (Thanks for being inspiring as always, Dad.)

Again, don’t be afraid to be vulnerable, honest, and clear about what matters to you in all your avenues of connection. Those who resonate and want to hear and understand your particular wisdom and humanity will benefit. I truly believe we need this kind of communication more than ever.

Lastly, let’s all age like tulips. Exuberantly.

(I hope you enjoyed the photographic journey.)

With love in this shared life,

Heidi