Unlearning Scarcity

On Pricing, Fear and Learning to Value My Own Work

One of the hardest things for me has always been balancing accessibility with sustainability. If you’ve followed my work for any amount of time, you’ve heard me talk about this tension before whether it’s community organizing, classes, mutual aid, herbal medicine or writing, my instinct is almost always to make things as accessible as possible. I know what it feels like to need something and not be able to afford it or what it feels like to be locked out of spaces because of money.

At the same time, I am learning that accessibility can’t come entirely at the expense of the people doing the work.

When I launched this Substack I was still operating from a place of fear… fear that nobody would subscribe, fear that my writing wasn’t valuable enough, fear that asking for support would somehow make me selfish, fear that if I charged what felt fair then people would simply walk away. Looking back now I can see that fear reflected in my original pricing.

Over the last year I’ve been doing a lot of work to untangle myself from patterns of burnout, overextending and devaluing myself. Not just in my work but in every area of my life. Learning that I don’t have to constantly prove my worth through exhaustion has been a lesson I’m still learning every day.

Part of that lesson looks like this: Beginning next month, paid subscriptions will increase from $13/month to $21/month. For those who prefer an annual option, subscriptions will be $231/year which gives you one month free compared to paying monthly.

For now the structure of this space will remain largely the same. The majority of my essays will continue to be available to free subscribers. I care deeply about keeping most of my writing outside of a paywall and accessible to the broader community.

Paid subscribers will generally receive 1-2 additional essays each month, along with occasional behind-the-scenes reflections, personal writing and other offerings that may not be shared publicly.

My prayer is that this approach continues to honor both values that matter to me: accessibility and sustainability. I never want this space to become something that only exists for people who can pay. At the same time I have to acknowledge that writing takes time, labor, emotional energy and care. If I want to continue showing up here consistently then I need to build a model that actually supports that.

So if my writing has encouraged you, challenged you, made you laugh, helped you feel less alone, taught you something new or simply become a regular part of your week then I hope you’ll consider becoming a paid subscriber. Not because everything will suddenly be hidden behind a paywall. Not because you’ll miss out on most of what I write. But because your support is what allows me to keep writing at all.

Yakoke for reading. Yakoke for being here. Yakoke for growing alongside me as I continue learning what it means to build a life rooted not in fear but in abundance, reciprocity and trust.

With an abundance of love, Assata 💛

If you’d like to support my writing and help make this work sustainable for the long haul, consider becoming a paid subscriber today. Your support helps keep this space alive while allowing most of my work to remain accessible to everyone. And would you share it with a friend?