The Story Beneath the Story
When I started writing on Substack, I didn’t realize I was also stitching myself back together. I thought I was just creating a place to tell stories, the kind I never had space to tell in corporate rooms.
But the truth is, the journey back to my voice started a few months earlier, on LinkedIn of all places.
After more than a decade in one company that rewarded my ability to contort myself into the “acceptable” version of a leader… after another job that showed me what healthy creative environments could look like… and after landing in a final role where I kept trying to build something real while leadership kept dragging it back toward what was safe, familiar, and uninspired — I finally snapped.
Not loudly. Quietly.
In writing.
LinkedIn became the first place where I stopped translating myself.
Where I said the truth plainly.
Where I admitted what it cost me to play “the good one” for so many years.
People resonated with those posts. The impressions were strong at first, then tanked (algorithms do what they do), but by then it didn’t matter. I had remembered the sound of my own voice. You can read a couple if interested:
So when I started Let It Smoke, it wasn’t a pivot. It was a return.
And what surprised me most is how deeply my creative writing and my professional work are braided together. The same clarity I use here, to write about grief, identity, longing, transformation, is the same clarity that shaped how I led brand storytelling throughout my career.
Whether I’m writing about grief, transformation, or a skincare routine that turned into spellwork, it all comes back to one core skill: making people feel something.
It’s the same muscle.
Truth is truth, whether you’re talking about a mother, a memory, or a marketing team.
Brands say they want authenticity, but what they usually want is control.
They want a voice, but not a point of view.
They want resonance, but only if it won’t upset anyone.
I learned that the hard way more than once.
But writing here reminded me of what I already knew:
A mic doesn’t need to be bigger; it needs to be braver.
A story doesn’t need polish; it needs perspective.
An audience doesn’t want noise; it wants honesty.
The way I write here mirrors how I’ve led brand and marketing teams for years:
Say the thing beneath the thing.
Make it mean something.
Let people feel it.
If your company needs sharper storytelling, clearer messaging, or a stronger brand voice, I’m taking on client work for November and December.
✨ More soon.