We Are 100,000 Subscribers Strong — With Special Guest Rachel Platten!

And a gift of song

Hello, family. Hello, all ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND of you!

Oh my goodness. When I started this Substack last September, the goal was to bring this practice of self-acceptance and unconditional love to as many people as possible, but I couldn’t have dreamed how widely and enthusiastically embraced it would be. What a gorgeous community of open souls you are, eager to connect with yourselves and one another with such good faith and pure heart. We’ve explored a lot together: forgiveness, mortality, acceptance, aging, regret, physicality, small and big victories. This space feels like a miracle, and I hope it lasts forever.

It has been a unique joy to see waves of influence ripple into other-than-Substack areas. Sara Bareilles, Toni Collette, and others have posted their own letters on Instagram, and they were joined most recently by singer, songwriter, and all-around lovely soul Rachel Platten:

rachelplatten

A post shared by @rachelplatten

So of course I reached out to Rachel to invite her to be a special guest, and she texted me this stunning, spontaneous piece of music — to which I replied “You just wrote this THIS MORNING? THIS ACTUAL HUMAN MORNING? You can sit down and that happens?” And she realized that in fact, songwriting has been her version of “Dear Love” letters for decades. Please close your eyes and listen to my new favorite song:

Today, our gift to you to celebrate this milestone of 100,000 community members is Rachel’s music (and a brand new music video), and an original Letter from Love from her, available to all regardless of subscription level.

It’s a perfect moment to celebrate Rachel, because she is in a season of creativity and vulnerability. Rachel is best known for “Fight Song,” which has for a decade been an anthem of strength for millions. And now, fittingly, she’s given us her new song in time for May, Mental Health Awareness Month — but around here we don’t need to look at the calendar to check in with ourselves and to work on supporting our mental health. This project of ours is in fact rooted in accepting, calming, and buoying ourselves time and time again.

Rachel’s video begins with the all too relatable sense of coming down from a panic attack, and below it is her letter, all about the insecurity she feels as the mother to two young girls, and as a (sometimes guilt-ridden) survivor of postpartum depression. Among all these gifts from Rachel is another one: the reminder that even multi-platinum artists whose music has been streamed more than a billion times are human, and that as humans, we are all plagued by the same doubts and worries.

Rachel, I love every triumphant and struggling part of you. What you do by sharing yourself so fully is an act of public service.

You can find more Rachel at her website here, and on Instagram here.

And now the new song, “Bad Thoughts,” from Rachel’s upcoming album, followed by her letter —

Dear love, what would you have me know today?

Your deepest, darkest secret shame is that you think that you’re not a good mother.

You think because of what you went through that you’re not worthy of being called a good mother.

That you’re an imposter, a fake, that you’re bad in some way. Oh my little love, how I long to hold you and mother you and disavow this idea you have that motherhood can be something that can be judged.

No, my angel. No, my angel. It cannot.

Do you see how the sun shines on you? You don’t have to earn it — your right to it doesn’t come and go. It’s yours. It’s your birthright. As is your motherhood.

It isn’t even about having children or not. You went through what you did to mother the world, not just your babies — to mother yourself, more importantly.

And that is the most important sign of a “good mom” that there could be. One who can mother themselves. One who can hold the terrified crying child inside and allow her to rage and shout. You’ve learned to be with her, how to love her as she is. How to let her exist and not need her to change. You’ve learned how to let all of your inner children feel loved and mothered. And that is the greatest gift of all. Because we are all seeking only that — our own inner parent to love and accept us as we are.

If it comes from the outside that’s wonderful too, but haven’t you seen, my love, the gift that comes from learning to be that one for yourself? To save your own life, to be your own hero. Yes! Those shivers are me, moving through you.

This is such a perfect query for you. May it forever change your mind, your sweet rambling mind, that tells you that you are not nor will you ever be a good mom.

Do you realize, my love, that that’s just another child inside you, who is in need of acceptance and love?

That voice isn’t truth. It’s no more true than the little tantrumming child inside who thrashes around and says she hates the world, who wants to scream and shoot a bazooka at anyone, and run away to a deserted island. She’s just in need of your love. The truth is that it’s always here.

Oh, I love you Rachel. I love you so much. You’re so beautiful to me with your seeking. With your seeking heart, with your aching need to know, to feel me, to do right, to be good.

But baby, good and bad aren’t real. They are just different shades of the human condition and they’re all perfect.

One might feel better in your body. One might feel easier, you might have conditioned yourself from childhood (from your own hurting mother) that one gets you more love. But I always loved you the same. And I always will.

You are a mother to the mountain when you hike it and walk it. You are a mother to the leaves you lovingly touch. You are a mother to the spider crawling on the wall that you lovingly place a cup over to escape from your studio, to the ocean you swam in today or the sand that you stroked through your fingers. And you are mother to your two beautiful girls who in turn are learning to mother themselves. They are just borrowing you for now until they learn how to do what you do.

The greatest power we have is to truly mother ourselves.

The ache in your side: I know it’s there. Oh my child, let it be. Let the guilt, the fear and the terror, the sadness and the grief, just let it all be there. Breathe. Soften. Allow. Receive.

Listen to the birds, and think of the mother bird — she teaches her young to fly, then she flies! Do you see, my baby? That’s what you are doing right now, by flying yourself. You are teaching your little birds how to set their sights high above the mountains. Not merely floating above the pavement, but high among the emerald forest. Your girls will see you. And they’ll learn, embedded in their souls, what is their birthright. They’ll see from you that it is all possible. That there are no limits. You aren’t taking from them, my love. You are the perfect mother to them. You have a community around you to support you and them. It’s perfect for them. They know you. Just like I know you.

You aren’t hurting them. You couldn’t possibly hurt them, my baby. By following a dream that is something I planted in your soul? How could that hurt anyone? By listening to me and letting me move in you and through you? How could that hurt another?

It might not always be convenient and it might not be what someone wants in the moment. But as you know, my love, wants are not the deepest truth. Wants are just a momentary search for happiness. But they’re not our soul’s longing. Our soul hungers to learn, to be fed, to understand me, to understand itself. And how better could you mother yourself, your girls, the world better than by listening to your own soul calling? Be one more example, my daughter, by following the call that I planted. It takes courage and bravery and ferocity. It takes a true warrior to follow the call of an artist.

Be proud. Be proud, my child.

Do you see that in the distance? That rocket shooting up to the sky leaving a trail? That’s you, baby. Shooting for the stars, for the moon. So much higher than anyone told you you could go. That’s my bright and brilliant you, following the whisper and the call that something up there, something out there is yours to claim. And you’re right — it is. And more and more brilliance will come.

But also know it’s right here. It’s right here. You don’t have to go anywhere for it. You don’t have to earn it or fight for it or hunger or thirst for it or cling to it. It’s your birthright. My love is your birthright. Rachel, hushhhhhh. Yes, I will do it all. Shhhhh.

There’s never been a problem I haven’t already provided the solution for, my love. Because these aren’t problems. They’re opportunities for you to trust me and lean on me. They’re opportunities for my grace, for your faith, for your patience — all of which just allow you to enjoy the playground that I’ve made for you more and more. So go forth, my love. Enjoy, have fun.

Allow, soften, and — big sigh — rest. Rest, knowing that I will do it all.

Love,

Love

Thank you from the bottom of my heart to Rachel, and to all of you Lovelets for participating in this wildly loving and healing project.

Let’s keep going.

❤️LG (proudly, number 100,001!)