Giving Up Was What We Needed

Bye-Bye “Expats: Los Güiris”

In September 2024, I did something I had never done before: I gave up.

Not on writing—I need that like I need food and sleep. But I gave up on writing professionally. I stopped writing to publish and hoping a story would go viral.

Instead, I wrote poems like “All That We Are” and letters as gifts for people I love. And something we all wish for happened:
I had more time.
Time to teach.
Time to build a business that actually brings in money.
Time to be present in the physical world with the people I rarely see.

“This is the first time we feel like you’ve truly been with us for as long as we can remember,” my parents said.

Giving up did more for my mental health than months of therapy. My relationship with my father became even stronger, my mother finally felt a peaceful presence I’d always wanted to give her, and my IBS went away—but that may also be due to less dairy.

At some point, I started confusing reality with the idea that I needed to be a professional writer.

Not a teacher who writes.
Not a curious person who communicates.
A writer hunched over, marinating in self-doubt, anxiety, and an occasional lexical epiphany cobbled together with the hope someone, somewhere, will pay for it.

I built my life around that idea because it felt meaningful. Yet, meaning gets slippery when the self you believe you are starts contradicting the self the world reflects back.

I launched Expats: Los Guiris with the belief that good storytelling could hold its own. That if I wrote well enough it would resonate with a large enough audience. But here’s the thing no one wants to admit about Substack:

Success on Substack doesn’t come from the quality of your writing. It comes from how much time you spend playing the game.
—Commenting on everyone else’s Notes.
—Posting the right thing at the right time.
—Bringing your own audience from somewhere else.

It’s a grind. And hats off to all of you who pull it off.

Why I'm Letting Expats: Los Guiris Go (At least on Substack).

The truth is, Los Guiris didn’t reach enough people.

And that’s not me being bitter. It gave me clarity and a push to move in a new direction.

Storytelling doesn’t really perform well on Substack unless you already have a big name or a built-in audience. And that’s okay. It was an experiment like a lot of what I’ve done here the past six months, which, by the way, I need to thank you for—thank you for all of you who bared with me through all these experiments.

All this experimenting showed what’s worth keeping and what’s not.

What I’m keeping is connection.

We learn a language to communicate, and we communicate to connect. Embodying that theme in my teaching style has allowed me to keep ESL students for seven years and counting. LLMs can teach grammar and develop context sentences quicker than I ever could. What it can’t do is feel what you’re saying and create a human relationship (although it can emulate one). That’s why my students aren’t just ESL students anymore. People come to me to get unstuck, think on their own terms, and actually enjoy communicating again.

That’s what I do. And now that I’m not spending hours trying to “make it” on Substack, I have more time to do it. I no longer see Substack as a way to become professional writer, but a tool to collaborate on projects both online and offline.

Want to connect beyond the algorithm?

✅ Email me your thoughts directly: nolan@englishforglobalcitizens.com

✅ Book a free 20-minute call to explore how I can help you grow your cultural confidence and language skills. We can also explore ways for you to find financial success and a community in Spain. More on that next week.

Affiliate Links for Global Citizens

Home Exchange: Trade homes, not hotel bills. Live like a local anywhere in the world.

Wise: Send money across borders without losing your mind (or half your paycheck in fees).

Preply: Make a living teaching people worldwide.