Yo,

Life comes at you fast—kind of like this email, right?

Happy New Year 2025, by the way.

Even as I type this, I just watched a live video from an author I enjoy reading on Substack. I thought, “Man, the video quality here is AMAZING! Is it a good idea to leave now?”

Well, yes.

Because I’ve decided to get back to what I love: writing.

But not just writing—I want to do it in a way that helps me grow. This year, I’m committing to one platform where I can master the habits and skills I’ve been meaning to develop: landing pages, building products, sequences, and email marketing.

I’ve gained these skills through trial and error, but now I want to take 2025 to build in real-time while sharing the journey with you—building in public.

Step one? Moving everything to one place—where I can write, grow, and share more intentionally. I hope you’ll stick around!

From now on, instead of sending emails through Substack, I’ve transitioned to ConvertKit (now called Kit). There, I’ll be sharing consistent insights on faith, finances, and family—the three core areas shaping my life.

Plus, it’s a perfect time to start fresh—my birthday is just a few days away. 🎉

✅ The good news?

You don’t have to do anything! You’re already on the list, and starting February 11th, 2025, you’ll receive my emails from Kit instead of Substack.

If you’re a paid subscriber here on Substack, I’m working something that would make it even more worth it on the other side. Thank YOU for supporting me even in the silence. I see you!

This Substack page won’t be shut down.

I’ll return once I’ve grown as a writer and want to leverage the community aspects here. But for now, this is the last email/post you’ll see here.

🚀 What’s next?

Expect my first email on February 11th, where I’ll share the ONE thing I’m focusing on this year—and why it might help you too.

If you no longer want to receive emails, you can unsubscribe anytime (no hard feelings!). But if you’re excited to grow in faith, finances, and relationships, stay tuned.

See you soon in your inbox!

📩 Stay Intentional,
Kamga

p.s. That photo was taken in our new home. I’ll be spilling the beans as the year rolls in. Yes, this is yet another incentive for you not to leave. I’m shameless.

p.p.s If you join this substack after February 11th, I would have set up an automation that would add you to my Kit directly. It’s nifty stuff. I can’t wait to show you how to do it later.

It’s sunny too. I love how quiet it is. My window is closer to the ground, and seeing their comings and goings grants me a sense of security. I often make stories about the people I see through my window. I wonder if they see me watching them. Suppose they’re surprised I never leave my apartment until after 10 am when all the cars have been driven. Or if they imagine stories of why my car seems always parked unless when I go to the grocery store, which, by the way, is 5 minutes away.

When I leave in the middle of the day to go to the gym, I often imagine how weird it must be for my neighbors to wonder if I work, where I work, and how I’m able to pay rent. A part of me feels that being black provides a different flavor of their story of me. The African in me wants to be left alone, though. This is why ever since my neighbor on the upper floor left, I haven’t uttered more than 2 sentences to any other co-human around this block.

Do I like things the way they are? In truth, I don’t. The Christian in me knows I should be more open and outgoing. A little more welcoming. And to be completely honest with you, I often do.

We’ll call her Maria. We’ve spoken twice, but we’re often moving in different directions. She has a beautiful smile. I see her leave early and come back late all week. Her pace in the morning is a little faster than that at night. She once had a knee injury, and although I thought she’d stay home that week, she went to work, cast and all. And she still smiled when I said hello.

I know when she’s in, even when I don’t see her walk in, because she often parks in the same spot like me. I know I’ll have a more extended conversation with her someday, but not yet.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned since I started living alone in this county is that context matters. There are good people, bad people. We all have biases. We’re all struggling with something. We all have insecurities. We all worry about something. We all want love and want to be loved. I’m not different. Maria is no different. The boy and his (maybe) Mom isn’t any different.

Walking up to anyone and striking up a conversation in the spirit of community without reading the room won’t be a great idea if they’ve not had good experiences in the past. Is it worth the trouble? No. Not for me. I like the way things have been. I like the acquaintances I’ve made.

Like Mateo ( not his name), who shares a wall with me, we talked briefly when he moved in. Interestingly, he also had a knee injury —but his was a surgery. I remember when he was carrying this chair out of his car. I saw him struggle to get it out and I couldn’t sit. The tug at my heart to help him was too much.

“I need to go help my neighbor. Can I call you later?”

I ended the call without thinking. And I felt a sense of joy stepping out and being able to relieve him of this burden. I didn’t get to see his apartment. We didn’t get to talk that day. But it was a nice enough moment to shake hands and exchange names. I still see him walking to his apartment ( his knee is healed now, by the way), and I know that if I wanted to, I could call him and chat. I generally don’t want to.

My window replaced my TV. I watch the world around me through it. I make stories about the kids who ride their bicycles. The parents with strollers. My neighbors, half-clad, heading to the pool to relax. The apartment complex staff in their golf carts zoomed from task to task. I’m grateful for the doctor who allows me to see a little better now thanks to his eye surgery skills ( oh, I probably didn’t tell you about this). I’m grateful for the job that allows me to pay my rent, buy water, and the computer I get to type this on.

I’m grateful to you who took the time to read this, even though you didn’t have to.

A lot has happened since we last talked, and I didn’t want to vomit all that on this first letter. I just wanted to say hello. My purpose is becoming more apparent with each new piece of content I put online. I’m very excited about the future that God has for me, and I look forward to sharing it with you.

Thank you for sticking with me. Thank you for your prayers. Thank you for your comments.

Just…thank you.

I’ll talk to you soon.

Kamga Tchassa

P.S: Here’s a video I made recently that I think you might enjoy:
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