the year i felt invisible.

the past, present, and future of ATP.

As I celebrate the 1 year anniversary of this newsletter, my baby, I can’t help but think back to its inception. And I’m not talking about thinking of a name, or colors, or any of that but what made me want to put pen to paper and speak about a number of personal feelings and experiences on the internet of all places.

In the Fall of 2023, my grandfather Poppy passed away and after 24 years of feeling seen, heard, and valued by him I suddenly didn’t want to be seen or heard by anyone. I will never forget that day for several reasons, but that morning I was in the thick of trying to keep up with TikTok’s algorithm and convincing myself that I could post one or more TikToks a day (which I couldn’t) and after receiving the news it was like something washed over me and putting a camera in front of my face felt phony and impossible. I tried to stay at it, but quickly fell off and became permanently disillusioned with posting content that made everything seem fine when it wasn’t. I’m always searching for a creative outlet, it’s truly been the case all my life, and when I was left with a desire to do little else the one way I could still share was by using my words. I went back to the basics, removed the tech element (until I can post my thoughts in the town square I’ll still need a little software), removed the feeling of being perceived (not exactly, but shoutout to everyone who talks to me about my newsletters—it’s one of my favorite parts) and just wrote. While it allowed me to be more vulnerable than I ever have been in a video format, I could convince myself that none of this was real as I poured my heart out and said things that I honestly couldn’t believe I shared with others, scheduled the newsletter, and walked away as if nothing happened. In a sense, I was grieving creatively by leaning into a form of media that had nothing to do with my face, appearance, or current state and instead relied on thoughts going from my brain to the screen—which were raw but still somewhat controlled.

But even in the process of being more open through my newsletter I eventually sunk within myself even more, opting to not post about my newsletter or even mention it to my friends much at all. I convinced myself that this was my diary and would sometimes be shocked when people wanted me to face or discuss the words that I was putting down. Like woah, wait you read that? (crazy I know). I felt so much anxiety around the thought that anyone has access to my inner-most thoughts and that they could then be manipulated and used against me. To be more specific, any time I spoke openly about my experiences or lack thereof in terms of all things romantic I started to have a fear that I was essentially providing a handbook. By putting it all out there, any potential romantic interest could read, understand all my weak spots, and know exactly what to do to and just handing that over was scary. Think of how they say when a man says “what are you looking for” you don’t say exactly because then they’ll become just that. It’s so easy to move through life revealing none of your cards that I was feeling a serious disconnect between wanting to lean in, but also desperately drawing back in the larger sense.

Now with all of that being said you might ask how does this mentality lead itself back to starting a YouTube channel and showing my face again? Great question. Although I was pulling away in many senses, as time went on it was clear that the sudden halt in my life was a call to action not to stop putting myself out there but to be more intentional about how I went about things. I realized that trending sounds and the race for virality were not sustainable and I was quickly burning out, however, I still loved the act of inviting people into my life, thoughts, and overall journey in a video format. It then comes as no surprise that I finally picked the camera back on November 15th, 2025, one year after Poppy’s passing with a fresh energy, perspective, and excitement for my creative ventures both in front of the camera and behind my laptop.

Long story short, I can finally acknowledge that some beauty came out of such a dark period for me on the anniversary of my lovely newsletter. I guess it took me losing one of my biggest supporters to realize that it was time to start pouring that support into myself. Not only doing the things that I want, but doing them and believing in myself wholeheartedly. What started as a form of release for me turned into a way to speak and share with those closest to me and strangers alike about how my own experiences can sometimes have universal takeaways. And it was all born from a time of great loss where I just wanted or needed a place to talk and be real, with no frills or gimmicks. I’m entering this NEXT year without being shy about the act of trying and bearing it all because in this life (especially these days) vulnerability is all we have. So I’m excited to take things up a notch in year 2 with more truths, more laughs, and continuing to connect with people both near and far.

From me to you,
Ianthe