The Beginnings of My Truth

This is my first post on Substack!

Peace & blessings.

Starting something new–especially something creative and personal–often comes with moments of doubt and discouragement. At least that’s been my truth. With every pursuit to bring a new idea or dream to life, I’ve become indebted to doubt and discouragement. You see, there’s two kinds of DND that have become staples in my creative journey: Do Not Disturb and Debt n Discouragement. One kind keeps me focused and the other serves as the metaphorical financier to getting my ideas off the ground. My journey toward publishing my first article on Substack has been a testament to this, yet also a powerful (& personal) lesson in perseverance and community building.

When I first launched "Moments With Murdock”–the brand that really put me on the map in my City (Indianapolis, Indiana aka Naptown USA)–folks would double tap but they wouldn’t tap in. Back then, people engaged with my brand digitally but rarely showed up to my in-person events. The comments were popping but the seats–the metric that was most validating to me–were empty. What a dilemma to be viral but undervalued IRL.

This was so similar to how folks have been engaging with my notes and re-stacks and comments on Substack, but were unresponsive in my Subscriber Chat when I asked for feedback on how to start writing my first piece. This time, however–having been through it before–I was better equipped to engage with the silence. I stopped myself from taking the lack of responses personally and put my ego back in check because the world doesn’t revolve around my needs (or insecurities).

The “stop & check” helped me appreciate the one who did respond–

Immaculate Mutebi

–whose encouragement has been invaluable and directly led to the publishing of this piece, my first piece on Substack. In 2019, it took me two months to learn that I should focus on appreciating those who came rather than those who didn’t; it only took me two days to remember this in 2025. That’s growth, right?

My experience in writing this piece has solidified a crucial truth: it's about value–not volume– when creating content as a means of community building, not just creating for the sake of creating. For a long time, I focused on simply producing content because as a “thought leader” or “intellectual”, I am “supposed to be creating content” that positively impacts people’s lives. It was a responsibility–an obligation–not a personal desire motivated by a greater calling.

But the best writers on Substack–particularly the Black writers who inspire me–are building genuine connections with other humans through their words, thoughts, ideas and perspectives. And that's the model I'm committed to following.

Jacquie Verbal

of

Blackstack

and

Sasadya Jayde

of

The Gathering

have been my quintessential models of community building on this platform. I am deeply thankful to both of these Black women for showing up as they are and doing as only they can do; the content they’ve shared–and communities they’ve built–on this app have affirmed me to write in my truth on this app, too. And so: here I am.

"Random But Relevant" is a space for me to embrace the unexpected, yet significant, moments in my life that teach me life lessons. I plan to write about everything I’m experiencing: heartbreak, spiritual breakthroughs, hobbies, love, life and death, music, basketball, my liberation journey, and everything in between.

The greatest moments and nuggets are found in the nooks and crannies; that’s why the best restaurants are often “holes in the wall”. Greatness happens in the “holes of the wall” of our lives. That’s also where I’ve seen the grace and mercy of God to show itself most true in my life: in the moments in between the moments that make our lives worth living, in those blessed transitions (“shifts”, as my church is calling them this year) that get us from one moment to the next. There is infinite space for lessons to be learned and stories to rise in the crevices of our lived experience and I have been blessed to see the fullness of God in those moments. Those moments become places, libraries for experiences turned memories and ultimately, lessons learned. To God be the Glory.

My Substack will describe that space in my life. My aim isn't to teach or inform, but to express and show up authentically. I want to "be" and not "do” in this place. That’s what will keep it sacred. As a professor and attorney and trustee and business coach and storyteller and Black Man (and the endless titles and responsibilities and identities), I do a lot every day. But thanks to folks like my good friend Ashley Norman, I am growing to appreciate the spaces where I can just BE. I can–and will–just be here. As I am. Amen.

So many have told me that they appreciate the way I annotate pieces published on this platform (my notes and restacks are endless, but the writing is just so gooooood), believing that the same combination of perspective and writing style will produce great essays. I believe how we show up in small ways–like notes and re-stacks–is evident of how we’ll show up in bigger ways, like essays. This is why I've come to appreciate

Immaculate Mutebi

advice to write as often as it feels good (emotion and quality), not just looks good (logic and consistency).

On Substack, I'm intentionally leaning into feeling instead of rationalizing. In most areas of my life, I am cerebral and logical. But the time I’ve spent reading Black writers on Substack has permitted me to rediscover a feminine energy within myself that is celebrated and validated by the truth professed by the pieces I’ve admired and annotated and absorbed as though they were my own. I’ve grown to understand Substack as a space where I can express raw emotion that is reflective of my whole self. And that is because of the Black writers on this platform who choose to model this behavior. Again, I thank you, all.

The most impactful writing on this platform, in my opinion, is the real writing—the writing that is authentic, genuine, and unapologetically true to self. Seeing this en masse on this platform has inspired me to be my true self in this publication–whether what I have to share is random or relevant–because my inherent value makes all of my content valuable. Amen. I have seen this modeled wonderfully in the writing of

Saint Trey W.

of

Notes From The Undrowned

,

Leila Spann

of

The Canopy Gap

and

Robert the contemplative

of

Musings From A Broken Heart

. Their courage has encouraged me to do the same. And so I will. I know I need not be in debt to doubt or discouragement because those writers model courage in the midst of disappointment, faith in the face of failed expectations and the raw expression when addressing realities of their lives.

Thank you to all the Black writers on Substack–named and unnamed in my first piece–for being beacons of hope and happiness as I tap into a skill that I’ve barely leveraged since college. My writing is important because my thoughts are unique and my life has value. A huge thank you to

Immaculate Mutebi

for her unwavering encouragement that kickstarted the writing of this piece, my first piece on Substack. Your random but relevant interaction (we only exchanged four messages, y’all; if you subscribe, you can still see them right now) in my Subscriber Chat meant so much to me. It ultimately empowered me to express myself on this platform; something I’ve been waiting to do since I joined. Thank you, my friend (even though we’ve never met, el oh el).

This is the beginning of my truth. And it is just the beginning. Until next time…

Anthony

PS: shoutout to

Evangeline DeonJaylese

for naming this piece! i was going back and forth on what to call it (i had three options) and so i called on my friend (who i really do know in real life) and she said this title was the best and when she explained why, i forgot why i was confused in the first place. make sure y’all go support her work! she’s an amazing human being whose writing is absolutely splendid.