Feeling stuck, unclear, and creatively restless? Read this.

"If you’ve been feeling that itch to start something, anything, but haven’t known where or how to begin, maybe this is your sign."

Photo by Tim Mossholder on Unsplash

I’ve been thinking a lot about those weird, limbo moments in your career. The ones where you know you’ve outgrown what you’ve been doing, but you’re not exactly sure what’s next either.

Sometimes it hits you while staring at a blank doc that’s supposed to be a pitch. Or when you're refreshing job boards out of habit. Or when someone asks what you’re working on, and the answer feels longer and vaguer than you want it to be.

For me, that moment came around five years ago. I was freelancing, not on staff anywhere, and trying to make sense of the media chaos that 2020 had thrown at all of us. So I did what I always do when I need clarity: I started writing.

That first version of The Wakeful was Coronavirus News for Black Folks, a COVID-focused newsletter for Black communities. It felt necessary. Urgent. And it picked up a ton of buzz and traction (like a lot of Black-centered work did that year, iykyk). I was featured everywhere from CBS to WIRED Magazine to Columbia Journalism Review. I was proud of my newsletter. But at a certain point, it also felt like I was reporting on something I wasn’t meant to stay in long-term.

The truth is, I loved the act of building the thing more than I loved the subject itself. Shaping a format, designing the visuals, choosing who to feature, editing the voice, figuring out what stories needed to be told and how to tell them. That’s what lit me up. And it made me realize that this wasn’t just a one-off newsletter. It was the start of something more aligned. Something more me.

Fast forward to now, and I’m reintroducing The Wakeful. Not as a side project or temporary pivot, but as a media platform and fledgling creative business. A place that centers the stories and conversations I want to see more of. Built around curiosity, culture, and creative independence, with Black women at the core.

Earlier this week, The Wakeful got one of its first major press mention in Essence Girls United, the sister publication to Essence Magazine: “Is Substack Changing The Media Landscape?” And that hit different. Not just because of the recognition, but because it came from a legacy Black women’s publication, reported by Fallon Brannon, a fellow Black woman journalist committed to covering Black women’s stories. A full-circle moment that felt like a quiet confirmation that what I’ve been building matters, and that it belongs. It made me realize how far I’ve come and how much further I want to go.

A full circle moment.

I also need to point out that this opportunity came simply because I decided to put myself out there. I had started making Instagram Reels to promote the newsletter—nothing fancy, just showing up as myself, sharing my work, pushing “post,” regardless of how cringe I felt (which is more than you’d think)—and that’s how Fallon came across The Wakeful. As someone who spent years as a journalist and editor myself, I know firsthand how often story ideas and sources come from social media. So let this be a reminder: you never know who’s watching and what opportunities they might bring your way.

Five years in, I’ve learned the power of iterating, of evolving in public, of letting the pivot be part of the process, of the ability to pause, reflect, and start again and again. That kind of longevity doesn’t come from going viral. It comes from clarity. From figuring out what you want to say and trusting that there are people who want to hear it. Even if they haven’t found you yet.

I had to ask harder questions, take better care of myself, and be honest…about the fact that I’d needed time to recalibrate.

And look if I’m being for real for real, those feelings of stuckness and uncertainty came back with a vengance in 2023, not too long after I had officially pivoted the newsletter to The Wakeful. I thought I had figured it out, but the spark dimmed again. So I decided to step away for a while. Not dramatically, not with an announcement. Just quietly giving myself permission to put it down and do some real introspective work. I had to ask harder questions, take better care of myself, and be honest—with myself and eventually with my readers—about the fact that I’d needed time to recalibrate.

That space helped me realize that one of the benefits of having a small-but-loyal audience on Substack is being able to throw things at the wall. To experiment without pressure. To trust that even if I’m shifting, the folks who’ve been here will meet me where I am, or at the very least understand the why. I realized I could shape The Wakeful into something that reflects the woman I’m becoming now, which is a completely different person from who I was at the beginning of my 10-year-plus career or even at the midpoint.

The industry has changed drastically. And fast. So why would I expect my relationship to and feelings about journalism, or my work, or even my ambitions, to stay the same?

That ebb and flow of clarity and confusion, drive and doubt? It’s all part of this wild ride. I still have moments where I question what I’m doing. (Last night’s unnerving mental spiral is a great example of that: Why have only 11 people answered my reader survey? Why does the Reel I just posted only have 400-something views? Will I actually be able to convert free subscribers to paid? Does anyone actually really care about any of this?…) But consistently checking in with myself, prioritizing personal growth (not just the buzzword version, but actual intentional and measurable goal-setting and accountability) has helped me come back to this work with a deeper sense of purpose and a sharper lens than I’ve ever had before.

Some of you might be thinking, “That’s all well and good, but girl, you started back in 2020!” Look, I get why it’s tempting to think the window has closed. Like if you didn’t start that podcast in 2017 or that YouTube channel in 2020 or that TikTok account in 2023, what’s the point now? But here’s the thing: (admittedly not all, but certainly) most of the people who are thriving in this moment aren’t thriving because they were first or because they are remarkable or because they know something you don’t and never could. They are thriving because they kept going.

What’s more, right now in 2025, we have tools they didn’t have. We have their playbooks, their lessons, their missteps in full plain view in interviews and workshops and YouTube videos. Even the platforms, Substack included, are giving independent creators access to audiences, tech, and educational resources that didn’t exist just five years ago. There’s no gate to keep. Just a door to walk through, if you're willing to claim your space.

Personally, I’m not discouraged by the disruption. If anything, I’m energized by it. The media landscape is fractured, yes. But that also means there’s more room to build something custom, aligned, and honest. Something with longevity. Something that grows as you grow.

Labels, be damned. They’re ever-shifting anyways. Journalist. Creator (which I’d argue every journalist is). Influencer. Founder. I’ve been all of them at once. Currently, I’m going with journalist, news influencer, and media entrepreneur. Big purr. What ultimately matters is being intentional about the work you want to do and the people you want to reach.

And truthfully, I want community. Not in the vague “join the conversation” sense, but in the way a great newsroom feels: where people bounce ideas, share links, vent, help each other shape something sharper, clearer, better. That’s the environment I’m trying to recreate. Even if it’s small at first. Especially if it’s small at first.

Because the truth is, I haven’t found a space that fits me. So I’m building one.

If you’ve been feeling that itch to start something, anything, but haven’t known where or how to begin, maybe this is your sign. Not because I have it all figured out. But because I know what it feels like to wait too long.

This newsletter, Cross My Mind, is where I’ll be sharing that journey. The stuff I’m making, what I’m learning, and the ideas I can’t stop thinking about. A space for curious people who want to build something meaningful without burning out. For creative minds who want community without pretense. For anyone figuring it out, one idea at a time.

If that sounds like you, subscribe and stick around. And if someone’s been on your mind while reading this, maybe a friend or colleague who’s been feeling stuck, unsure, or quietly dreaming of their next step, send this their way.

Sometimes all it takes is knowing you’re not alone to finally get moving.

—Patrice