Black Truck - Mereba

78 Degrees and Mostly Sunny in Pilsen

As always if there is a song play it while you read <3

I've been through the fire
I felt embers down my spine
And I've said, "world would you please have some mercy on me?"
"Or could you please lift the curses on me?

This used to be my secret little corner of the internet. My digital sanctuary where I went to write words outside of the ones I was being paid for, mainly as a way to continue to love writing. A place where edits weren’t fully necessary, run-on sentences were welcome, and I could let my thoughts come to an abrupt end.

The place where every imperfection I felt in my writing was embraced.

This time last year, my position as Culture Editor at Autostraddle was a wrap. A week or so after my birthday, things just got…weird—and then it all came to an end. I never put all my eggs into the AS basket (purposely), but I still built a beautiful audience there. I didn’t want them to think I’d abandoned them ‘cos I was no longer a part of the crew. The position and the income were gone in a matter of days, and I was fearful the readers were going to be next.

The audience that I’d built for myself and the site was important to me. When I talk about creating true space in journalism and culture writing, for both the writer and the reader, I mean it. So I took my job seriously when I had the opportunity to do just that. I worked hard to get us into spaces, to give folks chances, to curate content that made folks feel seen—and it was magical.

Truth be told, I was outgrowing the site. My ideas were outgrowing them, and both my heart and career were close to moving on to the next chapter. BUT, not being able to do so on my own terms, while learning about behind-the-scenes shit I was unaware of, left me feeling disappointed and disheartened.

I was angry but deeper than that, I was sad. Sadness, to me, is an emotion that cuts deeper than anger ever could. Anger demands acknowledgement but sadness presses on the spirit. It’s one of the more solitary emotions and because of that, when you feel it, things like memories come along with it making it harder to let go of.

I been through the storm
I heard thunder in my heart
And I've said, "world would you please shine a light up on me?"
"Or would you show me a sign you love me?"

I had a decision to make: go forward to this next chapter even ‘tho it showed up faster than I’d planned—or to just like, not.

I was nervous. Fearing that without the byline of a major publication above the name “Shelli Nicole”, no one would care to read my words. The thought of pouring my heart, money, and time into this space only to maybe be met with crickets scared the shit out of me.

I often cried. Wondering if the words I wrote about pop culture mattered. Forgetting that it not only helped to save my life, but the lives of many queer folks who had to live through the screen, because they feared living outside of it would be their undoing.

I worried that the ways that I wanted to connect with people through words were stupid. That those who had careers that required multiple degrees made the better decision. I questioned my worth, the impact of my words, where my career was going, and more. I failed at properly grieving it for quite a bit, and when I did it was so tough to feel.

Everything that happened at Autostraddle gradually faded into the background noise of the internet. There were no real consequences, just forgiveness and mostly business as usual because—well duh.

So, I made the decision and I introduced this site to the world. I had to come up with a name (originally it was called I Care About…) and then took a deep ass breath, turned on paid subscriptions, and that was that.

I didn’t realize that in those moments way before May 2023, when I was writing sporadically on a hidden blog every few weeks, that I was laying the foundation for the next phase of my career.

Painting up the city with my hue, they like it they say "ooh ooh"
Plus I stay true despite what you do

During the first 48 hours, I got 30 paid subscribers. Then the number grew to 50, then by months end about 70. Then I had over 200 free subscribers and that number grew to about 500 by the end of the year.

I was blown away. It wasn’t just that people wanted to read my words but they also wanted to go in their pockets to support me.

When my position ended, I took all my resources with me. Every connection I’d brought to the site, every writer’s email I worked with, every Google Doc filled with future ideas for them—I took it all. It was like that scene in Mad Men (Season 7 Episode 12) where Joan took her Rolodex and left—it’s also the same episode with the iconic Peggy scene, and both moments were very fitting for how I felt.

I reached out to so many people and publications after, and even cooler—they reached out to me.

In 2022, I built a connection between AS and Tribeca Film Festival. They were down and the collab was such a vibe that the festival approached us again in 2023, wanting full coverage of their queer films on the site. Everything was set and ready for June, but things had now changed.

I reached out to Tribeca and explained that I was no longer at AS, and wondered if they’d instead be willing to take a chance on me covering the festival right here on my own site—and they fucking said yes.

I could and couldn’t believe it.

When the news dropped of the job elimination,

Heather Hogan

created a beautiful post about it and folks sent their support in subscriptions, words, and dollars. So I took every dime of the money that folks sent my way and reached out to pay four writers who said yes to being part of my first-ever film festival coverage on Hi Shelli.

It was incredible and it was also just the start.

Since then—Hi Shelli has been invited to cover Sundance, SXSW, and Newfest. Interviewed a celebrity or two, had some incredible guest writers, built a close relationship with the folks at Netflix, been sent on press trips to interview icons, and even became an accredited site on The CherryPicks. I was asked to be part of GALECA, became an official voting member during awards season, and got to experience my first FYC campaign. All that is just a scoop of what has been going since May 2023.

It’s been nothing short of hella fucking dope and I am so proud of myself.

I’m not someone who loudly celebrates my wins—I don’t really know why but I tend to do it more inwardly. My partner—whose love is a constant reminder of the good things in this world—often has to remind me to stop and take stuff in—to really realize that I deserve the good things that are happening to me. To remember that it doesn’t make me arrogant to acknowledge not just the wins, but what I did to get there.

They say I was pushing my luck
Ooh, ooh, ooh
Imma push me a matte, all-black truck
Ooh, ooh, ooh

Today marks exactly one year since I put this space in the world.

As of today, I have 699 total subscribers, and 93 of them are paid subscribers. My goal is to spend the year getting to 1000 subscribers. There are many more pieces, reviews (which will ALWAYS be in front of the paywall), guest writers, and more on the way. I hope to grow the partnerships I already have and welcome even more.

Thanks so much for following me on this journey, for believing in me and this space, and for showing me your support in all the ways.

So, happy anniversary to me and lots of love to you.

As always—from my heart to yours,

Shelli Nicole <3

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If You Liked This Edition of Hi Shelli!

Here’s another you might really fuck with…

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SURPRISE EXTRA!

As a thank you, I’m offering 50% off of monthly and annual subscriptions to all new subscribers—including anyone considering making the jump from free to paid. Consider it an early pride present, especially since the offer only lasts until June 15. You don’t have to click any special link (but I made one anyway) and I hope you consider sharing and subscribing to follow me on this journey.

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