the start of something new

[OR] all good things come to an end

I won’t bury the lead here: as seen on is going paid next year.

The first half of this post reflects on why I started this newsletter and what the experience of building it has been like so far. The second half outlines what you can expect from as seen on in 2025: more of the same—and simply, more.

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My reasons for starting this newsletter were always simple—feeling smart; knowledgeable, has always been important to me. I believe the smartest people are great writers, and so I wanted to be one. I was also very bored and mildly frightened at the time. I had recently moved to a new city with as much creative stimulation as a baked potato, and there were days I was quite crippled by the fear that I was living outside the “real world”, and that the world would soon forget me, and what would I do then? In many ways, writing has been my way of aggressively inserting myself into the conversation; of saying, I might be nowhere interesting, but I’m here, and I am interesting.

At first, I wasn’t sure what I’d write about. My feelings, perhaps—my experiences as a 20-something-year-old woman. Thoughts and feelings seem to be all the rage these days. The issue was, my heart—bless her—is a very simple creature. The way I live and the feelings I experience have never felt extreme or poetic enough to write about. No one has ever said of me, “Ochuko, she’s very emotional. She feels a lot.” My mind has always proved agreeable to me, and I to it. Really, I’ve been reasonably fond of myself for as long as I can remember. In other words, nothing to see here. Certainly nothing worth opining about. 

The other option, obviously, was to write about my interests, which, I have to admit, have never been fleeting or varied. I am a woman of mild obsessions. There are maybe five things I care about, and I care about them deeply. Now, caring about something—being passionate about it—doesn’t mean you can write about it. It doesn't mean you should. I’ve always felt that to write about something, you ought to be passionate in quite a specific way—a passion that compels you to become a student, to learn and then learn some more; to filter emotion from passion and then temper both with objectivity. 

Clearly, I would never be able to write about books in this way. Lord knows I dream about novels—reading them, acquiring them, discussing them—but this is all passion, complete frenzy. You can love a thing so much that any sort of discipline discernible to the outside world goes out the window. Instead, you create these rituals dictating when you indulge, how, and with whom. The thing becomes more than a thing; it becomes an experience. Perhaps the word I am looking for here is precious. Yes, I’m precious about my little reading obsession. Precious and selfish. A little less of both and I would have been set. Shame. 

And so I started writing about business and culture—topics I was endlessly curious about, felt compelled to keep learning about, and was not at all precious about. I’ll admit that what preceded my launching this newsletter were fits of tears, self-doubt, and sick-to-my-stomachness. These were just antics, though. Once I decided on the idea, I knew I’d start and that I’d try my very best. I knew as seen on would be good, at the very least. 

Amy Dune, my favorite literary villainess, once said, “And what’s the point of being together if you’re not the happiest?” I say, what’s the point of doing it if you’re not the best? Make no mistake, I do not write this newsletter (mostly) three days a week in pursuit of anything other than my version of greatness. This is just the sort of person I am. I’m aggressive with my desires, unflinching with my demands. More than once, I’ve been called a very greedy girl. Thankfully, I have no conceits of world domination. I simply want to write a kickass newsletter with a consistency that impresses even me. All very reasonable, I think.

Writing this newsletter over the last seven months has been as thrilling as it’s been challenging. It started off free because, quite frankly, it never occurred to me to put up a paywall. It’s stayed free for so long because there were many things I wanted to validate—the most important being: Does this thing have legs? Is it valuable? When I started getting messages from readers at least twice a week telling me they wanted to pay for my work, I knew I had my answer. Yes, this thing has legs.

“Ignore the numbers” is a common refrain on here, but one that has never made much sense to me. There are many things I “do for myself”, but writing this newsletter is not one of them. as seen on has never been a tool to self-soothe or think out loud (I have group chats for that). It’s always been about providing something special and invaluable to you, my readers. Numbers show me how well I’m doing that, and one must never be afraid to face the facts. 

A month into writing as seen on, I set some goals for myself. These were ambitious goals, just the way I liked them. When I reached those goals months ahead of schedule, I set new ones—and I reached those too. I’m telling you this because I’m proud of myself. And I’m proud of myself because I set out to build something that people care about and respond to—and that’s what I’ve done and intend to keep doing.

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So what will as seen on look like in 2025? 

More of the same, done better.

• Three days a week—Monday, Wednesday, Friday—I’ll be in your inbox as usual. These news roundups are the backbone of this newsletter: a thoughtful and timely curation of the most interesting news and trends at the intersection of business and culture. Many of you have told me that you appreciate the breadth of my coverage as well as my perspective on each topic. May it continue. 

• My essays are consistently the best-performing as seen on pieces. I think part of why they do so well is because I only write them when I have a lot to say that hasn’t been said before. So, I’m not going to put these on a schedule—they’ll come when they come. But they will come, and they will be good.

• I’ve been asked a few times why I do my monthly reading recap and how it fits into the thesis of this newsletter. The truth is, it doesn’t. It’s an indulgence, but a valuable one, I think. I know there’s a subset of my readers who tell me those roundups are their favorite work from me. They love literature, and they appreciate my musings on life. Who am I to deny them the pleasure?

Here’s what’s new:

• Introducing TRANSCRIPT: a bimonthly interview series where I talk to gen z founders, creators, and operators about the most compelling topics at the intersection of business and culture. The goal is to capture the spirit of the many group chats that inspire this newsletter while introducing you to the smartest, most interesting young people shaping my views on the ideas I love to write about.

• Which brings me to my final announcement: come January, my subscriber chat will be open for business. We’ll talk about news, trends, books, and people. I expect it’ll be so much fun. 

Starting January 1st, ALL of this content will be paywalled most of the time. And I do hope you pay for it; I’m not above admitting I’ll be disappointed if you don’t. And haven’t I been so GENEROUS?! 

Seriously though, thank you for being along this journey with me!