They'd say something I could register was funny, but I couldn't really laugh, because I was wondering how they saw me, and whether they could see how I was looking at them. I was hoping they'd just... know.

The last time I felt it happen, I was in Michigan and she was in Texas. We'd been friends for over a year, and only started taking each other seriously as humans after my sister died. That night I was lying in my bed with the most painful grin on my face, painful from all the smiling I'd been doing past ten. We didn't know when we'd see each other, so all we had was the phone. We both had jobs, and lives. And she didn't even know I'd fallen for her.

My face was warm, my heart was light. There was nothing the cold outside could do to chill me out. The small lamp on my desk was on. My phone battery had run down, so I plugged it in and used my airpods, but they kept falling out, so in the end I put her on loudspeaker and lay on my back and just talked.

I had never felt this heard, this seen. And I could tell she wanted me to hear her out, and to see her. She meant every word, every laugh. I knew I couldn't just be friends with her. But I was afraid of what would happen if I let her know.

So I hid the one thing that mattered most, and I called the hiding "playing it cool."

The lie they told us

Here's the lie they told us, back when we were first learning how to want someone.

That wanting is a leak. That the moment you name what you want, you've shown your hand, and showing your hand is how you lose. That the person who cares less has the power, and the person who names it first has given theirs away.

We swallowed it because it felt true. Because when we finally looked at someone and thought please stay, the fear didn't feel like a signal to speak. It felt like proof that we had to stay quiet, that the silence was the only thing keeping us safe from what we wanted.

I wanted to say: "I enjoy talking to you more than I'd like to admit, and I don't know how I'd feel if you were in a relationship with someone else."

What I said was: "I'll talk to you tomorrow, yeah?"

That gap, between the sentence you mean and the sentence you settle for, is where it all gets lost.

What the silence actually does

But here's what actually happens when you hide a want that big.

It doesn't disappear. It curdles.

It converts your attention to the small things that were never the real problem.

The silence shows up like this: you, performing indifference you don't feel, then resenting nothing— and everything— because you have to perform it.

It becomes the exact thing you were trying to avoid: neediness, but in reverse, a neediness so unspoken it has to leak out sideways, through jokes and gaps and memes and questions you can't quite bring yourself to finish. Or dare to start.

The silence doesn't protect you from the outcome you fear. Oh no. It builds it.

Wanting out loud

Wanting to be loved is not the thing that makes you desperate. The chase for it you do in the dark is.

Desperation is what you feel when you want something and you're pretending you don't. It's the gap between the want and the saying of it that turns a person inside out.

When you finally say the thing out loud, you aren't more needy. You're less. You've taken a want that was turning you poisonous, inky and stood it in the open, where it's just... a want.

Here's what I know, having been the version of me who hid and the version of me who didn't.

I found the courage to tell my wife how I felt at the exact moment I was okay with it falling apart.

I'd rather let her know soon, so I could spend more time with her, than bury my intentions and hear, a few weeks later, "Hey, I met someone." Those words would've broken my heart worse. And the ghost of that near-miss would've followed me through every room I ever walked into after.

So the thing that freed me wasn't a trick. It was...acceptance? Yeah. That.

Acceptance.

The terrifying, entirely ordinary decision to stop trying to be the one who cared less, so I could be the one who was actually there, fully present. To see and to be seen.

Not the other overflow

None of this means you should pour your whole chest out to the first person who half-smiles at you. I know we’re all somewhat semi-lovelorn and the world isn’t making being single a fun hobby. But, that's not clarity. That's the other kind of overflow, and it scares people, because it isn't for them. It's for the ache.

This kind of overflow feeds the ache, and the ache will kill you.

Wanting, spoken plainly, is an offer. It doesn't reach and grab. It stands there and lets itself be seen: this is me, this is what I feel, you're free to do with it what you will.

A gift. Given. A present. This moment. Me. You. Here.

You are not being too much when you say what you want. You are being legible, and legibility is a gift you give someone you care about. It says: I trust you enough to let you see me, even if what you see is that I'm scared.

That's not weak. That's the bravest version of you there is.

Clear will always be kind. But it doesn’t promise to be pain free.

No system

I don't have a system for this. I'm not going to give you a script for the third date or a formula for how many days to wait before you text.

What I know is smaller, and it's more true.

It was true the morning I told my wife I wanted to date with the intentions of marriage, and it was true this morning when I kissed her hand for no reason.

It's this: you are worth loving, and you are worth being loved.

What you are looking for is available, if you are willing to risk not getting it — if that means you remain true to your heart, mind, and spirit.

When you finally accept that you want both intimacy and privacy, when you finally accept that you have deal-breakers and strong opinions and things you won't compromise on, something settles. You stop auditioning. You stop watching yourself from the ceiling of the room, hoping they'll just... know.

You start being there, which is the only place love can actually find you.

There's a version of that old line I keep coming back to. Not that the person who cares less has the power. The reverse, the one that's actually true:

The person who can say what they want, and survive it landing, is the one who's free.

Not free from the wanting. Free inside of the wanting.

That's a person worth becoming, if you ask me. And it starts with one uncertain sentence you say out loud, knowing it might fall apart. You know the one. It’s at the tip of your tongue right now and your ears get warm just thinking of it.

Say it anyway. If it falls, let it. Better to hear the truth soon and go spend your heart somewhere it's wanted, than to hide it and hear, weeks later, "Hey, I met someone."

Yours truly,

Not a relationship expert.

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:
What if you kept doing the SAME things you've done the past 5 YEARS

Is it just me, or does 2022 seem like 3 years compressed into a single year?

The last time I sent this newsletter, my younger sister died the day after. Literally.

I had just announced how much the newsletter would become formalized and the different segments.

It’s not been a blur ever since. More like walking through mud. Slowly. Begrudgingly. Exhaustingly.

Each day bleeds into the other. The pain goes, then comes. Imaginings and ideas of what could have been.

Unable to fully articulate what I’m feeling, I march on. Not neglecting it, no. More in a form of acceptance that this is new territory, and I have no idea what rushing could cause me and those in my family who suffer too.

It’s two months today since she died.

If there’s anything I now understand, it’s this: you can’t understand what it’s like until you deal with it. And, there’s a certain camaraderie, an unspoken understanding between people who have lost that cannot be explained.

On the one hand, there are people who really, really want to help.

They try to be there, to show support as best as possible. It’s never enough. There’s a veil they can’t get past. It’s painful to watch someone trying hard and see their effort splash in vain as you drown in new sorrows that were unearthed before now.

On the other hand, people who have felt this pain don’t need to say much. It’s crazy that to express empathy fully, you have to know the pain yourself.

Maybe it’s just me. And I’m lucky I have both people in my circle.

I’ve concluded that whether someone knows pain or not, the work to feel is on me. It cannot be outsourced. And it’s this realization that allows me to receive words of support from others without the nagging thought that they don’t get it.

It’s very selfish. I’m more than aware. My sister’s death opened up things I had pushed to the side and allowed me to stare frankly at emotions I had suppressed and parts of me I had tamed in the name of growing up.

I love all of it. The way I can talk about why I can’t write and, in the same breath, think of dying without writing and wondering ( intently) if I’ll be okay with it.

My sister’s death is changing me. It’s changing us. My parents, my brother, and my youngest sister. It’s the kind of change I notice because it’s expected and because we all miss her in ways that we can’t put into words.

It’s a complete tragedy that she died and how she died. There’s no other way to put it. I can’t speak for everyone, surely. But I know that my youngest sister is probably the most hurt.

There’s a 4-year age gap between my younger brother and me, more so between my late sister and me, and the largest gap is with the last. They got to be friends while growing up as siblings. I was off to boarding school and Uni while they stayed close.

I’m not ignoring my loss when I say this: my brother and sister have lost more than I have. More memories, more dreams, more conversations.

It’s still unraveling. All of this.

Yet here’s the World Cup, Trump, people going back to work, others getting married, kids getting born, people winning awards, scholarships, etc.

Our sister is gone, and life still goes on. But for who?

Visiting San Francisco ( or 5 years of life in a bubble)

In August 2019, I was accepted as a volunteer for a TechCrunch Disrupt Event in California. If you know tech, you know that TechCrunch is a big deal regarding Tech Journalism. This trip was a big deal.

I didn’t make the trip for reasons I’d rather not talk about.

This letter is titled “How Have You Changed in the Past 5 Years?” because I finally got to visit California and realize something very important about life as an immigrant:

Be careful which bubble you pick to live in and listen to; it can dictate which career you choose, how much you earn, and your entire trajectory in your host country.

One of the biggest mistakes I made ( looking back now) was never going out of the bubble I found here. “Bubble” means the network of people I was connected to on a regular basis.

We all belong to different bubbles: college mates (e.g., St. Bede’s Ex-Students), work industry(e.g., Scrum, Salesforce, Startups), home town (e.g. Bamenda), etc.

When people move, they’re more likely to get into the bubbles of whoever their host here, is. And that’s exactly what happened to me.

It’s nothing wrong by itself. If you have no idea what you want to accomplish and how to accomplish this, bubbles can help you find a path. Your bubble often has people who think in a particular way and have accomplished particular things.

For example, if the people in your bubble believe that going to college and studying law is the most effective use of your opportunity as an immigrant, then you’re more likely to do this.

There’s a wonderful article that dives into this with more finesse that I think is definitely worth your time.

But Kamga, what has all this bubble life got to do with San Francisco?

San Francisco. When you call this city, you might as well add “expensive” because that’s what most people know about it.

This is why people would rather have nothing to do with it. For this reason, my friends who live there burst my bubble, and I realize that if I had made the trip in 2019, my life might have turned out completely differently.

It’s a sunny city. Home to Silicon Valley and a multitude of technological achievements. Nearly all the companies that have made strides in the past decade are located there. It’s also home to Stanford University.

I got to experience SF through the eyes and experience of people who were told it was a bad idea and how expensive it was. People who chose themselves and bet on their abilities ( and each other) to find a way.

I got to reflect on my options, and my bets. The life I could have had if I were still married and the one I have now, single and completely on my own.

Most importantly, I realized the importance of self-awareness in selecting which bubble you want to be a part of, take from, and contribute to.

Life is short.

This reality is ever present for me now. Life is also quite unpredictable. You can only make strategic bets and prepare for any outcomes. Life can also be long - which means that the choices you make ( or don’t make) put you on a very glaring trajectory after 5 -10 years.

If you looked back to the past 5 years, would you say you planned to be where you are now? Were you swayed by your bubble into a sphere you didn’t believe in? Did you choose a path you’re no longer proud of but can’t change?

Or, have you trudged along month to month without any care for the long-term ramifications of your choices?

True, you may have been in a bubble. But nothing stops you from changing it. Hell, nothing stops you from creating your bubble or finding a bubble you want to be a part of.

What was most glaring for me about San Francisco was that as expensive as the city was, there were people - like me - who could afford the life there and the perks that come with being in the mecca of tech in the US.

Granted, there are other hubs in the US, such as Austin, Seattle, and even New York, where people have found success and thrive.

But I want to point out here that if you rely only on other people’s experiences of a bubble, you may miss out on a bubble that was supposed to be yours.

And if you don’t plan out your life in decades, you could get caught up in week-to-week strife without being able to look back at a year and see that you are making progress.

You need some wins, man. You can’t keep working all year round, feeling inadequate, feeling like you’re running out of time.

The advantage of being in the right bubble and thinking in decades means that you allow your environment to nourish you ( the people, nature, etc.), and you also set goals that are far enough so that you can get down and work on them without feeling the pressure to measure progress every day.

Sometimes, it’s okay to work and know that you did today’s work. Remember the Chinese Bamboo tree.

You Must Be A Part of A Community

My sister’s death made it glaring to me that I had been isolated. I think after my divorce, I withdrew into myself. At a subconscious level, I didn’t have anyone I could count on, so I doubled down on myself. I couldn’t see the need for others in my life, and even if I spoke regularly with my family, it wasn’t as though I could go visit or have them take over my financial burden or create room for me to relax for a day or two.

I now see that although this works in the short term ( and is necessary in small doses), long-term isolation from community groups is detrimental to your self-esteem, self-image, and especially self-awareness.

There’s only so much that you can bounce in your head. You need a sounding board. It would help if you had people who could tell you that you’re paranoid, or that you’re crazy, or that you are NOT paranoid or crazy.

Most importantly, though, you need to feel like you are a part of something that would not be the same if you weren’t there.

This means you must be useful to this community, and it must be of use to you as well.

Family is a great place to start. But in my book, the family has no choice. They’re stuck with you because of blood. Which, as you are probably aware, makes this more complicated.

But the communities you build by choice ( or circumstance) can often prove more powerful.

I must stop here to clarify that this community is often a group with an underlying thread: ex-students, mates from college, etc. So, all your friends put together can’t be a community since the only commonality is you.

I’m a part of a discord group with people I’ve never physically met. Yet, we’re all connected by our interest in video games. I’ll be the first to say that although I’m part of the community, I’m not "cool” with everyone there. But those I’m cool with make it worth it.

My sister’s passing exposed this for me. How much I had neglected the communities, I had been a part of. How much I refused to be a passive member because I thought I was wasting my time.

One of my friends in San Fran reiterated this as well.

Bottomline: join a community or build one. Aim to be a useful member. That’s it. It matters. You can be a part of multiple communities. Big or small. Isolating yourself, no matter what is not a good long-term strategy.

The Skins We Shed Over Time

I started by asking why this year was so long. It feels that way because of the emotional depths I’ve been through. It’s been a personal journey to see how far I can go in pain and claw my way back.

I’ve had help. But mostly, I’ve felt like there’s no way anyone can help me get out of this except me.

I even started seeing a therapist. Only to realize that I may never get answers this way.

Man, I miss my sister. I miss everything I’ll never get to tell or do with her.

It’s a heavy loss. Each time I see her picture, my eyes get wet. I’ll watch a movie or anime, and someone dies in it, and I think of my sister.

I’ll literally be in the middle of some personal development rant, and I’ll think of memento mori, next thing I’m silent: thinking of my sister.

I’ve never had a loss like this. When my uncle died, I was 11. I knew him, but I didn’t know him like that.

This is my sister whose voice and jokes I still hear in my head.

I’ve not even been able to start thinking about what we’ll do with her social media accounts because I’m not the only one getting triggered like this.

Just seeing her name sets me back.

I’ll never be the same. I don’t want to be the same. The question is: who will I become now?

It’s scary, to be honest. I’ve already seen some of the consequences of her loss. I became very emotional. I expressed this in the form of anger, and it cost me my budding relationship. Then a few days ago, I realized I was probably best off on my own.

I’ve even gotten to the point where I’ve considered never being with anyone for the rest of my life.

Yeah. That’s how far my thoughts have gone on this.

I’m shedding parts of myself daily. Parts I didn’t even know existed. I’m questioning everything. Wondering what lies about myself, I believed; what lies were other people’s ideas of who I was supposed to be.

I can’t say I’m happy. But I can say I’m pleased.

I feel very alive. I miss my sister very much. And I am very hurt by the betrayals that have happened in succession from people I had opened up to.

And I feel very alive.

This means all that has happened, one way or the other, happened for good. That’s what I choose to believe. And I’m going to choose what to do with all of it.

I’ll shed as much skin as I need and pick my bubble and community. Then decide who I will be 5 years from now by God’s grace.

And you, what will you do with your one life? Which bubbles have you been a part of without even realizing it?

What have you done with the inevitable pain of life? And if you haven’t experienced such pain(yet), how are you preparing for it?

I’d love to read your reply.

Take care,
Hugues.

I thrive in chaos. But only in the kind of chaos I create. This means my head is often full of what could go wrong and how to avoid it. But it also prevents me from thinking about day-to-day tasks or planning too far ahead.

But this time, I did it.

This time, I found a format and picked a day to use for this Newsletter and to re-use as a way to systematize this part of the internet.

It’s fun to send an email every few months or every day. It’s not fun when you, the reader, can’t be sure when you’ll see it.

For a while, I wondered what I could do about it:

Do I pick a random schedule and force myself to stick with it?

Do I generate a random structure and force myself to abide by it?

Then I realized the answer was simple: Yes.

But only because things weren’t as random as I thought. If I took a few hours to think through what I wanted this newsletter to be (instead of waiting for inspiration), I could generate enough structure to inspire me every time I wanted to send it.

I thought about why you joined and what you’d like to see. I also realized that I do so much out of this newsletter that I was subconsciously removing parts of my life and feeling locked in.

Not anymore.

As you read through, you will see that there are now various labels for different aspects, and I’ll do my best to be as brief as possible in each section.

You might discover that you like some sections more than others. That’s totally fine.

I hope to refine/remove/renew sections using your feedback.

Also, this newsletter will go out every Monday (I haven’t picked a time yet, but that’s part of the plan).

Nuff’ said. Let’s do this!

📺Stuff I watched

This weekend was full of grocery shopping and cooking. I watched The Marksman (Amazon Prime) and Day Shift on Netflix. I don’t have Netflix at my apartment, so whenever I catch it, I take advantage, knowing I can’t binge for long. hehe

I kinda liked The Marksman, tbh. It stars Liam Neeson as an elderly, widowed ex-marine corps who gets into major trouble with the Mexican cartel when he intercepts a Mom and her son trying to get over the American border.

I thought it was a feel-good movie with a simple premise and some basic action. It was a little too predictable, but I still enjoyed it. 3.5/5

Day Shift was bleh. Jamie Foxx, Snoop Dogg, David Franco, Megan Good, and some other A-Listers were there. I lowkey like vampire flix just because I find them amusing ( I don’t watch the serious ones though, I prefer them “comedic”/full of action)

I enjoyed the trailer, and I thought I’d give it a try. It was a waste of my time.

Jamie Foxx is a great actor. The story just didn’t do it for me. 2/5.

📚Book Club Update

I don’t think you know this, but I started a Book Club. We’re currently reading Atomic Habits by James Clear, and at the end of the month, I plan on hosting the Book Club conversation on my YouTube Channel. It will be live! So, if you have read the book or plan on reading it before the month ends, you’ll be able to join the chat.

Also, the doors to the book club will be re-opened, and you’ll be able to join the community. Subscribe to my channel and turn on the notifications to know when I announce the date!

Or you can just read next Monday’s Newsletter. *wink*

📈Self-improvement Update

Physical Health: I started going to the gym last week. I’m fat. Not like fat fat. But fat enough to realize I don’t like my body and need to do something about it.

I walk daily for 30 minutes on the treadmill at speed 4, incline 4. After the walk, I do barbell squats with at least three sets of ten reps. The goal is 6, but I’m too weak to do them, and I don’t want to injure myself. So, I do 3-4 with 25lbs on each side, and I do 4-5 without weights with each rest.

I aim for deep squats, and I’m proud I can stay in the Asian squat for a long time.

My goal is simply to build a habit of driving to the gym and walking.

I’ve fallen off this wagon many times, and as I read Atomic Habits, I’m applying some of the principles to my life.

Financial Health: So, I finally got out of debt. After almost a year of planning, saving, working, and strategizing. It probably doesn’t mean much to you, and I still feel odd talking about this because, as Cameroonians, we don’t talk about money.

Like, ever.

However, as you’d see below, I have a project I’ve been nursing that has to do with financial education, so I need to start getting comfortable with talking about money.

We’ll see how that goes. lol

Spiritual Health: I’ve been learning how to pray. I feel like all my life, I’ve learned how to recite, regurgitate and repeat words without really understanding why.

Now, not only do I work at an organization where we get to pray daily, but I was gifted a book, “Why We Pray,” which is helping me understand the value and the how of prayer.

Good stuff, I tell ya.

💡What I Made

For some reason, I enjoy writing on Facebook ( with my phone and two thumbs) more than writing on a full keyboard.

Also, I have lost soo many drafts because I typed on the computer ( on Facebook), and it glitched on me.

Last week, I wrote some things I’ll be editing for Medium/YouTube.

The one I personally enjoyed was this one: I write about love and relationships because I’ve always been a loverboy at heart.

🍳What I’m Working On

Ah. I’m excited.

This Newsletter is what I have been working on. As well as a content plan for myself and some structure.

I’ve struggled with structure my whole life, and I think most of the advice in the world doesn’t apply to me.

What I’m testing now is doing things my way. I’m creating my system - chaotic order.

I get to do whatever I want within the confines of a very clearly defined boundary.

I don’t want to talk about everything yet, only because I tend to lose steam when I share my ideas before they’re executed. But since you’re here, you won’t miss it.

Once done, you’ll hear it here first.

All I can say is that one of the projects involves knowing more about how to manage your finances and pursue a career when you move abroad.

If you are an immigrant, know an immigrant, or are about to be one, you’ll enjoy this project.

🤗Friend Shoutout

Today, I’d like to shoutout Sandra Nyangha

She launched her content writing class last week, which was a tremendous success.

I’ve watched Sandra practice her craft in public, grow as a writer and spoken word artist, and increase her business acumen in droves.

For Sandra to pull this off while living in Cameroon shows that she’s got the resilience and talent required to do the work and grow with every step.

So please, if you’d like to see what she does, head to her Facebook profile and give her a follow or friend request. I’m sure she’d appreciate more eyeballs on her work.

Let me know if you know someone whose work I should check out. I’d love to shout them out!

~Quote of the week 🦉~

“The biggest difference between success & failure is getting started: The majority of people I know fantasize about things that actually can be accomplished. They just never get started. If you get started and play the long game, you have a great chance of winning.” — Justin Welsh

I’ll keep this super brief. I’ve even turned this into audio so you don’t have to read if you can’t.

I’d like to talk with you in real-time. Why?

I’m stuck.

Sorta.

I’ve moved out of Colorado. 3 months now. It’s been a fun transition, but I feel like there’s so much more I have to discover about my new home. Ya know?

Professionally speaking, I feel this surge of growth in the coming years. I know what I need to do to position myself properly, and I’m quite excited actually.

Content-wise? That’s the problem.

I just returned to YouTube after the hiatus I took while moving. And I can feel that I’m no longer sure of what value I can bring to you, the people who signed up to watch me.

To be more precise, I’m not sure who I’m making videos for. What problem I’m solving. How I’m serving.

I could make videos about whatever, really. But there’s a part of me that wants to help. A part of me wants to make videos that answer people’s questions or problems.

That’s what I’d love for us to chat about.

If after all this time you’re still here, then there’s something you’re getting. Maybe you just like me —that’s awesome too. Truly.

And I think that if we had a conversation, not only would we get in touch for real ( especially if we’ve never talked in person), but I’ll get a better idea of what would be helpful to you.

I think I would still write if no one read. I would make videos if no one watched.

But man would that suck. lol

Anywho. Reply to this if you’re interested, and I’ll be in touch.

I look forward to chatting with ya.

Take care.
Kamga.

It’s taken me a few years to say this without the guilt of being African —raised by a Mum who cooks delicious meals.

I can cook. I. Just. Would. Rather. Not. Do. It.

But today’s message isn’t about cooking. It’s about energy.

The vibe. The one that you carry. Your smile and demeanor. The one you take into the room where you greet someone with a true cheer in your voice and their response just slams the joy out of you.

That vibe.

The reason why I don’t cook is the same reason why I don’t watch the news or why I only watch one TV Show at a time —one episode per day ( I’m currently on Season 2 of Designated Survivor).

What’s that reason, you ask? Cooking drains me. Bad news drains me. I know the levels I can handle and past a certain threshold, I get super cranky.

Could I get better and improve my threshold? Probably.

But for what?

We don’t have to do the things we don’t want to do. I sound like a spoiled privileged human and I’m hoping you can listen to this with the least amount of bias possible.

You don’t have to do what you don’t want to do.

You can walk away. You can take a different course. You don’t have to argue. You don’t have to prove your point. You don’t have to explain after you say “No”.

Are there instances where an explanation is needed? Sure!

Will you lose something if you take the route of not doing that thing that seems to require you right now? Probably.

Opportunity cost is real. But today, I want to offer you an alternative.

If you must do something, and there’s no way around it, find a way to want it.

Find a way to enjoy it. Find a way to make sure that this thing—this event, person, activity—will become a source of gratitude, a source of good energy.

Good vibes.

Bad things will happen. Life will throw us curve balls. Unpredictable setbacks. Break-ups. Deaths. Failures. Job loss. Miscarriages.

Life has a way of testing our ability to survive and forcing us to accept how much is beyond our control.

But it doesn’t have to be more painful than it already is.

You don’t have to let the vibe kill your vibe.

Updates and Such

1. I wrote something about why I left the Catholic Church today. It was curated and I’ve been getting some genuinely deep feedback from some readers. I’d love to know your thoughts.

2. I published my Poetry collection —Diary of a Reckless Poet—in March. Between trying to get my surgery and work, I haven’t done proper marketing. But I thought you might want to buy a copy. Find the ebook, paperback, and hardback on Amazon.

3. And yes, there will be a proper campaign in May. I’ll keep you posted.

4. Did you see my last YouTube video? Just in case, here it is.

5. Finally, what have you been up to?

We are getting a divorce.

We’ve been separated since October 2020. This is the first time I am writing about it “publicly”. I didn’t feel the need to do so. I’m not an influencer or a celebrity.

I write to think.

Processing the end of my marriage continues to be one of the most difficult things I’ve ever had to deal with. I haven’t written a single poem in months. I still find it hard to be creative and work on my business. Even replying to comments becomes hard some days. I just got 4000 subscribers on my YouTube and I felt guilty for not being able to keep the unwritten promise of being a creator.

When I think of all the articles, videos, and content I made about relationships, I feel like a hypocrite. Like a loser. I know I’m not. But the feeling doesn’t care about my logic.

So, no. I’m not okay.

I don’t even know what I need. Except that I can’t allow myself to drown or lose faith.

It’s been a tough couple of months. My family, as well as a few close friends, have been super supportive. I’m still going through it.

This is not the article where I write what I learned. I have a lot of feelings that I’d rather convert because they may cause more hurt than help.

So, yeah, I spent my 31st birthday in February on my own. The final divorce decree should arrive by the end of this month—May.

There’s a lot of uncertainty in my life. For a while, I was sure I’d be on a plane heading back to Cameroon.

A lot has happened. I have written some stuff the world isn’t ready for; I am having people I trust to read it and help me understand what lies below the surface of my words. Strange times for me to be alone in a country I never expected to be alone in.

There’s a lot of fear. There’s so much I wasn’t prepared for and didn’t expect.

Also, there’s a lot of learning about myself and who I was as a husband. My flaws, my weaknesses. Things I took for granted. Things I need to address if I ever want to be in a relationship again. I cannot let a good tragedy go to waste —you know me.

I’m moving to a daily newsletter. I don’t like Substack. I don’t feel it. I love how clean it is, but as a newsletter service, I just don’t enjoy it. That’s it.

I prefer the clunkier Mailchimp. You’re probably already signed up there, so, don’t worry, it won’t take too long for us to be back together. Just click the link at the bottom and make sure to add your email—that’s if you want us to stay connected.

I’ve decided to start a daily newsletter because I need to get back to writing. I need to process my feelings through my words. I want this darkness to be removed one word at a time.

When I sit with my thoughts, I replay conversations and things get really sad, really fast.

I’m blessed, really. My family and the people who care about me have been there in a major way. Also, it shows that all the times I had failed in life and had to come back from the bottom strengthened me to be able to get back up again. I want to get a tattoo of a phoenix just for this reason.

I am not yet there. I still feel broken, betrayed, angry, and confused.

I can only speak for myself. I doubt I’ll be able to share all that happened with you because as much as things are ending with my soon-to-be-ex-wife, I don’t feel it’s my place to share a story that belongs to us both. We both cared about each other and the fact that it’s ending this way doesn’t mean what we had wasn’t real.

Maybe as time goes on I will find a way to articulate the frailty of relationships and the role we both played; how we both would have wanted this to work and how sometimes in life, things just don’t turn out well. C’est la vie.

Bottom line is, I’m now alone and I have to get back up. The support I get is mostly from far away and the day-to-day requires willpower and determination.

“I won’t be anyone’s victim.” I catch myself muttering this daily when I feel down. When I feel like there could have been an alternate outcome to things.

My daily newsletter would be my own baby steps towards growth and learning.

You’re reading about my divorce because you’re signed up to substack. It may take a few months before I talk about this again. Or a few weeks. I don’t know. I’m not in a hurry—I don’t want to be a slave to those thoughts either.

There’s a fine balance between thinking out loud and bringing one’s intentional reflections to another person. Not every thought comes ready to be heard.

I think through writing, and there’s a lot I have learned through this. There’s also a lot more to my life than being a thirtysomething divorced immigrant living in the US.

Sign up for my daily newsletter—let me take you along this journey.

Kamga's Daily Newsletter

Also, thank you for sticking here even as I never sent you any emails. You’re awesome. Let’s fix that.