Am I asexual or not? It’s a question that’s been with me for a long time, and I publicly shared it on my blog for the first time early last year after revealing I’ve been a lifelong single. Around 1.5 years later, my body count is still at precisely zero, which - after my recent birthday - means I’ve entered the wizard club of the infamous 40-year-old virgins. Mission accomplished! Am I convinced now that I’m asexual, or am I still “questioning”?
While there hasn’t been a sexual partner and even one strong ace-validating experience, some unexpected things have changed internally in my thoughts and feelings. As a result, I’ve done the opposite and updated my position on the sliding scale between asexual and allosexual and shifted the slider towards the allosexual side of the spectrum.
I don’t want to go into the exact thoughts and feelings that have occurred. The whole picture is too intimate, even with the level of oversharing I’m currently comfortable with, and you shouldn’t get a partial picture because that might lead to inaccurate conclusions.
I’m convinced that, with the right person and under the right circumstances, I would appreciate the opportunity for a sexual experience. With that statement, asexuality isn’t a suitable label for me. Even though I have never officially adopted it, it’s probably time to retire it.
At this point, I want to emphasize that I still believe that asexuality is an actual orientation. Some people will be genuinely asexual for their whole life, and there’s nothing to pathologize about that. Asexuality can also be a phase, but, as maybe in my case, that phase can last for years and even decades, so even for these people, it can be a helpful label that shouldn’t be dismissed, and “temporary asexuals” don’t need constant reminders they’ll grow out of it.
However, I’ll also admit that asexuality can be a label to hide behind, for example, because of anxiety issues around dating and relationships. I suspect that both cases apply to me. My current self-assessment says that I’ve been a very late and slow bloomer, causing me to be a genuine asexual in my teens and twenties who has then clung to this identity for longer because that’s what I felt comfortable with. In other words, the revelation that unfolded over the past two years leading to today could have happened earlier if I had wanted to. But I didn’t want to.
Many asexuals feel that there’s something wrong with them, and they wish they were different. Especially heteroromantic ace women worry about their inability to find love if they can’t comfortably provide the men with their physical desires. I cannot relate to these feelings. I’ve never been sex-negative in the sense that I judge others for high body counts, engaging in unusual sexual practices, or even sex at all. Still, I’ve always thought it was not for me, and I’ve looked at my potential asexuality as a positive trait. Thinking less about sex allowed me to think more about other things. It probably spared me one or another negative experience.
Even with a recent change of heart, I don’t need to find a date and get laid as soon as possible. My generally low motivation to invest time and energy into dating hasn’t changed. It’s just cleared up another possibility for the future.
In a way, this is a change of identity. And a change of identity can be challenging. It’s easier for some people to reinvent themselves and more difficult for others who believe they “just are” a certain way and have people around them who also see them that way. In my situation, that’s the more significant revelation. I was stuck in my identity, which hindered my personal growth. However, I’ve become more open to questioning and redefining my identity. I’ve collected more examples of this, but I’ll keep those for another day.
I had to make a tough decision, and I want to share it. For a few months, I’ve been working on plans for another trip to India in December. There were a lot of coinciding opportunities. I’ve always wanted to go to DevRelCon, and the next one is in Bangalore. One of my friends from Hyderabad invited me to her wedding. Another friend is going to Mumbai after Christmas, and her brother is also getting married. I could have attended two weddings (but quite different since one is Hindu and one is Christian). I’ve reconnected with a friend who will be in Goa in December. I already imagined myself sitting on a beach instead of following the same Christmas traditions my parents and my sister have every year. So, I’ve spent time planning with a big “if” in my head. I could do all or nothing, as any subset of the plan would have felt like wasting an expensive and carbon-intensive flight to another continent. However, I’ve never finalized the plans, and December was getting closer. Eventually, I gutted the plan two days ago and decided to not go to India, at least not now.
Why did I decide against it? The main reason is that with a full trip like this, I would have needed to take the month off from work. One week was available to work remotely in the middle of the planned trip, but I needed more. I have a few things at work that need to be done before the year’s end. One of my major clients is doing a software migration project, and they need to be able to use the new software starting in January for the new fiscal year. We have a team working on it, and I’m in a leading position, which means I have some responsibility for making it happen and the duty to support my co-workers. Cancelling (or not booking) the trip was the responsible choice.
I could have made it happen if I had made a definite choice two months ago, informed everyone, and worked toward it, ruthlessly prioritizing work and trip preparation over anything else I’ve recently spent time on. I didn’t do that. Instead, I avoided making a decision. I knew that there wasn’t a perfect solution. Everything has trade-offs. Last weekend, I knew I couldn’t postpone a decision and had to make one. I spent more hours ruminating. I put the trip on a pedestal and deemed it an opportunity of a lifetime. I felt that I would never be able to forgive myself for forgoing it. At the same time, I thought I was running away from responsibility and trying to enforce something that didn’t fit in my life right now. Making it happen would be the most stressful thing imaginable because I’d have to cram too much work in three weeks and probably not enjoy the trip as much as I wanted to. I also wouldn’t be able to prepare it so that I can make the most of it. After two helpful conversations with my sister, I decided on Tuesday. I informed everyone that I wouldn’t be coming. Because I don’t want to lose touch with my Indian friends for too long, I’ve already decided that the replacement for this trip will be in March 2025 (exactly two years after my last one).
I noticed something interesting. Until deciding and sending the messages about the trip, I felt horrible about having to choose. I would feel this either way, no matter what I decided. Afterward, however, I felt peaceful and relieved. I’m also full of happy anticipation of a December spent in my hometown and a different trip in March, which will not have all these events but provide opportunities to relax and spend ample time with people.
Indecisiveness is one of my less favorable traits. There’s also something immature about it. I don’t want to make trade-offs. I want to make everything possible. I want to never have to say “no” and decide against some idea that exists in my mind. I’m the toddler throwing a tantrum because the world doesn’t exactly provide him with what he wants with no consequences. Instead of facing the trade-offs, doing triage, choosing, and then proceeding with my choice, I keep the optionality until I cannot keep it anymore. I waste time ruminating, overthinking, and secretly hoping I don’t have to make a decision or some outside force takes it for me. A lot of my procrastination comes from indecisiveness. The travel plans are just one example. In the future, I hope to learn something from it and make earlier decisions about essential questions.
If I told you I feel unlovable, you’d probably stand up in protest. You might say that you enjoy my presence and my contributions. The statement seems absurd. I grew up in a loving family, and while I sometimes may be a loner by choice, I’ve always had friends. And, as I’ve grown older, I’ve become more social and engaged in communities where I feel valued. Hence, let me rephrase the statement. I feel unlovable in romantic, physical, or sexual ways. That’s something you couldn’t refute. I’ve been single all my life, so you couldn’t point at a current or ex-partner who loved me this way. There has only ever been one single woman who expressed romantic interest in me, but she was so desperate that it didn’t feel genuine. I can’t rule out that there have been instances where someone gave me subtle signals that I misread, but none that are obvious in hindsight. Since no woman ever expressed a genuine romantic interest in me, I might reasonably conclude that I’m fundamentally romantically unlovable.
Now, you might tell me that I’m dumb for expecting women to come to me and confess they have a crush on me. That’s not how things work in our society. As a man, we expect you to shoot your shot and make a first step if you’re interested in someone. You may find out she feels the same or is at least open to exploring the possibility, or she’ll politely decline, and you can ask someone else until it finally clicks. However, if I told you this, I would reply that I feel so unlovable that the possibility she said “yes” is functionally zero, so what’s the point? And actually, it’s worse. I convinced myself that my interest could create so much discomfort in the receiver that expressing it was almost unethical.
Many young men blame liberalism, feminism, or the #MeToo movement for their inability to express interest in women out of fear of retribution. However, I had heard women speak about having to fight unwanted advances from men over a decade before said hashtag went viral. I knew I wouldn’t want to do even the slightest thing to contribute to this problem, even if that cost me a chance at romance.
Of course, I’m far from the only man afraid to express their interest to women. Many manage to do it due to peer pressure and mimetic desire, having a strong enough sex drive that overrides their fears, and often the use of courage-enhancing substances like alcohol. I don’t strongly feel peer pressure, my sex drive isn’t exactly high, and I have a strict personal anti-drugs policy. Therefore, I have only two options. The first is somehow convincing myself that I’m lovable and desirable and that expressing these wishes isn’t unethical. I intellectually grasp the concept of “benevolent transgressions”, but they’re hard to believe. The second is that my future spouse reads this post, is more courageous than I am, and takes this load from me. Until then, I will keep writing these navel-gazing essays.
TREEWEEK was a “TPOT camp” in the spirit of other retreats like Jesscamp, which also doubled as the organizer’s extended birthday celebration. It took place last week at “Seegut Blaue Blume” in rural Brandenburg near Prenzlau, more than an hour from Berlin. I signed up because I trusted Simon and his team to create a great event. The location seemed nice, and many people I knew from Jesscamp and online interactions would be there. It seemed an excellent way to have a little holiday in September.
A forest and beautiful nature surrounded the place, but the weather was more suitable for indoor activities, especially in the first few days. Because nametags or badges are boring, the organizing team invited us to bead a bracelet or necklace with our names. There was a lot of art-making at the event. I didn’t participate because I don’t trust my hands with a paintbrush, but I enjoyed seeing the fireplace covered in drawings. My hands are more suitable for playing the piano, which I did a lot. Many more musicians attended the event, so there was a constant hum of live music, whether played on physical instruments or synthesizers and with looping software. Jamming with other people is fantastic; I should do it much more. And feedback on my playing was overwhelmingly positive. While we had the whole place to ourselves during the week, the venue still ran its monthly Open Stage on the front porch on Wednesday. Some TREEWEEK participants signed up, so it was a joint celebration between the locals and our international community. I bet the MC never announced people from so many countries on this stage.
Feeding 70 guests is no small task, but Simon’s brother (and my brother-in-name, Lukas) took charge of the kitchen and ensured nobody went hungry. Food was always available, and people signed up for shifts working the kitchen or the scullery, which turned into a dancefloor with the playlist of whoever managed to connect their phone to the speakers first. I did a lot of housework this week but enjoyed serving the group this way. It’s also wonderful to talk and bond with people over peeling 20 kilograms of potatoes together. There was one barbecue with meat, but on the other days, the food was primarily vegetarian except for an enormous amount of boiled eggs.
I brought my werewolf playing cards again, and we played a few rounds, though fewer than at the two Jesscamps I’ve been to. We also played other board games. The most remarkable was the attempt to play the German version of Codenames in a group of people with limited German skills and see how far that went (it went better than expected). And, of course, there were a lot of great conversations. I learned a new group coaching technique and sat in two guided meditations. There was often dancing at night, especially on Saturday when Simon celebrated his birthday. One guy brought his startup’s technology that lets you control lights with gestures and makes you feel like a magician.
Overall, I had a fantastic time at TREEWEEK despite the rain. For myself, it was mostly a comfortable, cozy event, meaning that I didn’t take part in activities and workshops that pushed me out of my comfort zone, unlike the improv and clowning workshops at the Jesscamps. Nobody scheduled such activities I was interested in, so abstaining wasn’t a deliberate choice. I also arrived without expectations to turn this week into a life-changing, self-improvement, or personal development activity, so I’m okay with it. However, after events, I often think I might have participated in a more profound way that let me take more out of it.
Much of the potential for deeper connection lies outside the scheduled activities in personal interactions, especially one-on-ones. Group retreats like TREEWEEK always remind me that I enjoy meaningful connections when somebody offers them. Still, initiating them without some external structure is nearly impossible for me. It’s particularly noticeable when it involves members of the opposite gender, especially at gender-imbalanced events, or when it’s about physical connection. There are some blocking thoughts and feelings, and I need a strategy to work through them. There’s some lingering social anxiety. It doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy the event or my interactions; it just means there’s potential for more and deeper connections.
I want to thank Simon and his team for offering the community this wonderful space. I hope there’ll be another TREEWEEK next year, as well as many other events. Regarding myself, I will probably attend future retreats, but I need to be more intentional about why I’m going and what I’m getting out of it before buying the next ticket. In the meantime, I’ll see you all online.
Last year, I published a few blog posts about being single. Then I stopped. I have started multiple drafts but never completed them. I can’t find the right angle to share my thoughts and tell my story. My mind is full of interconnected thoughts that are difficult to express linearly, and some of these thoughts are uncomfortable to express at all. One reason for starting the series of posts was to clarify what I wanted in this area of my life. Still, a year later, I feel more confused than ever. At the same time, the pressure is mounting because I’m approaching my fortieth birthday at the end of the year. While I sincerely believe there’s no “expiry date” for finding love, there is one for having children, especially biological children. That date is not just about fertility but also about your aging parallel to them. I’m way past the age where I can be a young parent, but I can still prevent being a super old parent by acting very soon if I want a child. Do I want one? Well, I think I do. It still doesn’t seem the primary goal that I can’t stop thinking about, but it’s undoubtedly one goal and one that, unlike some others, I can’t delay.
The default path is to start dating, end up in a long-term relationship, decide to marry, and then have kids and start a family. These steps seem a natural progression. Many people have clear goals and an idea of marriage and family. Still, others first start dating because of sexual attraction, loneliness, or because everyone is doing it. Then, everything else is just the natural next step. They never imagined their wedding, but when the right person appeared, the idea seemed appealing, and then parenthood was just the next level of married life. I might be more of the latter type of person, and I’m stuck at square one because I’ve never prioritized dating.
Many people I know met their spouse in their early- or mid-twenties, married in their late twenties, and started having kids then or in their early- to mid-thirties. The later they started, the quicker they went through the steps. Some even seem to “speedrun” the process, and there’s the cliché of the man who discovers they’re ready for marriage and then “marries the girl in front of them”. And by now, I would have to “super-speedrun” if I wanted to follow the default path. However, my perfectionism and romantic ideas place me too far away from that clichéd man who could date to settle. I know a few single women, but none where I have strong feelings that I could love them and start a family with them. (Also, some have already decided they don’t want kids.)
I see a couple of options in front of me. The first is to continue what I do now, which is mostly nothing. If I do so, I need to accept that I may never experience parenthood or only in a very suboptimal way. It’s not especially appealing. Also, even separated from parenthood, I’m not entirely convinced that singlehood is the preferred state I want to stay in forever. Still, I’ve recently realized that a romantic relationship with someone who doesn’t want to have kids seems somewhat pointless to me, which may be telling.
The second is to start running and making meeting and dating women a full-time job until I find someone to love, marry, and have children. Ruthlessly prioritize hobbies and activities that allow me to meet single women, sign up for all dating apps, optimize my profile, announce my search publicly, involve my friends, and ask them to set me up, etc. I’m sure that’s what most others would do in my position, and I’m also sure that’s what others would suggest to me if I asked them what to do. It is the obvious step, but so far, I have not been able to motivate myself to do it. I want to investigate this further in a follow-up post because that may go back to some of my general ideas and attitudes that hold me back in dating and that I still need to explore.
Finally, the third option is to be open-minded about non-standard approaches to relationships, parenthood, and family life. One is co-parenting, where people get together to have children without being romantically involved. This would suit me quite well, as it’s similar to how I approach work. Finding a woman who I can imagine being a good mother and thinking of it as a project of raising children might be easier than hoping to catch the feeling of wanting to wake up next to her for the next forty years after forty years of sleeping alone. While this path still leaves the possibility of me finding love at an older age, it means abolishing the default path for good. Am I ready for that? Other variants would include multi-parent families, polyamory, and communal living. Still, before considering either of those, I’d need to deconstruct what most people get from the default path that includes a spouse and children, find what is truly missing in my life, and then see what alternative approach to life covers the essence of it. And now we’re back at the point where I need clarification about what I want, and I must also explore that.
Wow! I made it to a point where I wrote down some thoughts in a way that made me feel confident about publishing. I needed to be stuck on a boat with no Internet access and nothing else to do, and I was slightly sleep-deprived. I may write the first follow-up piece on the return journey. As usual, feel free to share your opinions with me in a reply via email or social media.
It’s April, which means it’s a new month and also a new quarter if you want to think of a year divided into quarters. A great opportunity to look at the first 25% of the year 2024. Looking at mine, I see light and shadow.
I started the year with a ton of motivation and clarity about my next steps. Professionally, I wanted to transition my existing client projects where I’m holding a software development position into a higher-level role of architecture and leadership, and also build out my personal brand and a marketing strategy to acquire additional projects with API consulting roles. The transition was quite successful in one project but still ongoing in others. In January, I actively worked on planning the next steps for my freelance business. The subsequent one would have been the implementation of the plan, starting with launching a new website and landing page. However, I didn’t do much in February and March. The reasons were that I was busy with day-to-day business in existing projects and also a couple of events and travel, but I can’t blame them entirely. Previously, together with a coach who helped me with the transition, I had also established a daily routine as a framework. The coaching ended in January. After falling sick for a few days in February, I got sidetracked and no longer followed my routine. The only thing that stuck was the weekly review, but that wasn’t enough to keep me on the rails. During the sick days I started watching a TV series that got me hooked so badly, that even after recovery, I watched a few too many episodes every night, went to sleep late, and couldn’t follow my routine the next morning because I slept in. After six seasons of Supergirl in less than six weeks, I’ve sworn that I will only watch TV shows with a weekly release schedule or mini-series.
Outside of work and productivity, things are looking slightly better. I managed to get a medical checkup that I already wanted to do last year, and besides a severe Vitamin D deficiency, which I’m treating with a prescribed supplement now, my body seems to be in good condition. I turned my simmering motivation for building community into action, hosted my first two-hour party, and already sent the invites for the second iteration. Besides this party at home, I also hosted a proper salon-type discussion event for Interintellect with a friend in Berlin and went to the community building retreat for German Effective Altruists to extend my network outside of professional connections. At the retreat, I had a great 1:1 conversation with one of the directors, who has a similar background. It both confirmed my path and gave me some new ideas about professional networking which simultaneously supports other communities like Effective Altruism.
For April, I’ve decided to go on a bit of a social media fast. I can’t go completely dark, but I’m restricting my use of all my social platforms to professional and promotional reasons. A few tweets and also a conversation with a friend with a more “analog” life motivated me to take that step. Social media can be beneficial, but only if we use it, not if it uses us. Another related goal is to go back and be more consistent with my daily routine, which enforces some non-digital me-time in the morning. While these goals are mostly about reducing distractions and gaining focus, I also have a more explicit and active goal, and that is to finally launch my new website and landing page this month and start with active outreach to new clients. Wish me luck, and I’ll keep you updated.
A weekly review is a valuable practice to regularly check in with yourself and see how you’re progressing. It should be a part of every self-improvement journey. However, establishing a weekly review as a ritual can be difficult. I have tried a few times and failed to keep up, but now I have found something that works for me. Let me share my approach in the hope that it will be helpful for you, too.
The first thing is finding a regular space to do your review. To establish the practice as a ritual, you should do it at the same time every week, so you need to pick one that works consistently and where you are also in the right mood to do it. If you do it on the weekend, you may not always be able to do it at the same hour due to different weekend plans. If you do it on Friday, you may be too tired and feel like postponing. I’m doing it as my first task on Monday mornings, which works well.
The second and even more crucial thing is finding a format for weekly reviews you enjoy so you don’t dread doing it and start procrastinating. I tried using the plus-minus-next method Anne-Laure Le Cunff of Ness Labs popularized. I pushed it multiple times, but it didn’t stick, even when I made a pact with myself last January. Back then, I blamed the timing and being overwhelmed on Mondays, but now I realize that my primary issue was likely the planning aspect - the “next” column. With short-term goals, the “plus” and “minus” columns became nothing other than a previous week’s “next” column checklist. I felt good about the goals I accomplished and bad about those I didn’t. This checklist drowned out other things that I could have written there. While I could say more about my problems with planning, the key to making a review practice stick was to detach these two: a review that doesn’t try to be a plan.
My current review practice encompasses five columns or questions. As expected, there’s a “positive” and “negative” list. I fill those out based on how I feel about the past week at the review time. Although what I feel good or bad about comes from who I want to be, there’s no explicit checklist to consider. I’m also creating a “so-so” list for things I have mixed feelings about, for example, if I enjoyed something but have spent too much time on it.
The fourth question is about relating my review so far to my goals. And goals, in this context, don’t mean a to-do list for the week. It refers to long-term aspirations that I’ve stated separately. For example, one of my goals is to build out my freelance business with new clients and services. I will ask myself if I’ve done anything in the past week to pursue this goal. If there’s nothing, I should adjust my priorities. Again, I won’t set explicit goals for the next week. Sure, the standard advice is to make something actionable, but it’s better to drop the advice if the fear of not fulfilling a plan stops you from questioning yourself about your progress. Interestingly, this goes both ways. If I’ve mentioned many things as positive in the past week that weren’t related to goals, does this mean I have to revise my goals?!
The fifth question is a fully open question. It’s labeled “other thoughts” and is an invitation for free-flow journaling. It’s a place to write down what answering the previous four questions brought up in my mind. Part of that could be revising goals and priorities or making connections between this week’s and last week’s review and understanding patterns. Again, this is all optional and intended to keep me on a self-improvement journey without enforcing a rigid structure I can’t keep up with.
In summary, my weekly review (nearly) always takes place at the same hour, contains five prompts (positive, negative, so-so, connection to goals, other thoughts), and is entirely detached from any planning. If you have a similar practice or try mine, please share your experience.
I hosted a party! I mentioned Nick Gray’s book “The 2-Hour Cocktail Party” in my yearly review post, announced to host one in “early 2024”, and kept the promise to myself! Here’s a little field report about hosting this event.
For those unaware of Nick’s party concept, here’s the gist: you invite around 15 people using a website that allows you to hype them up with an email campaign, have them come to your house on a weeknight, serve them beverages and light snacks, give everyone a name tag, make three rounds of icebreakers where everyone shares something about them with the group while letting people mingle freely the rest of the time, and finally kick everyone out after two hours. The book and Nick’s website explain how and why, so I won’t go into detail in this post.
My main change to the formula was not calling it a cocktail party because I felt it was false advertising without serving proper cocktails. I named it an after-work party instead. Other than that, only minor changes to the tools and shopping list (you can’t host a party without serving beer in Germany).
The exciting but emotionally intense part of the party wasn’t the event itself but sending out invites and waiting for reactions. I feared people’s thoughts about me if I invited them to such an event. With every message and reply, my mood changed from stressing about being unable to fill the room and ending up with only 2-3 guests to worrying that my apartment would overflow and I would have to decline some RSVPs. I sent out a few invitations, waited for reactions, and, depending on how I felt about them, I shared more invitations. I didn’t pretend to be confident about the concept but instead always mentioned that I got the idea from a book and that it was an experiment, so people knew what they signed up for. The fact that so many of my friends and acquaintances supported me made me quite happy. I configured the guest list to close automatically after 20 RSVPs. In total, 18 guests signed up, three having to cancel due to being sick, so it was precisely 15 guests. Including my flatmate and myself, we ended up being 17 people.
While anxious during the preparation and planning phase, I felt relaxed on the event day. I was concerned about finishing cleaning and food preparations, not guests. The RSVP list looked solid; even a few no-shows would have been acceptable. However, there were none. Everyone who signed up ended up being present. One person messaged me and said they’d be late, but everyone else arrived between 19:00 and 19:10. German punctuality, FTW! I was too busy opening the door, greeting guests, and taking care of other last-minute logistics (I would have needed 10 minutes more for preparations) to end up feeling in the awkward zone Nick describes in his book. I gathered everyone for the first icebreaker at 19:20. I did the second icebreaker around 20:10. The book recommends three rounds, but due to the punctual arrival, running the first icebreaker with the easy question twice, once for early arrivals and once for latecomers, made no sense. We ended with a big thank you from me to the guests for participating and a round of applause from the guests for me for organizing at around 21:15, and by around 21:45, everyone left (except for one of my flatmate’s closer friends who stuck around with him).
As I’ve given talks and led meetings before, I’m familiar with addressing crowds and enjoy taking the initiative, so gathering people and explaining icebreakers wasn’t an issue. Of course, it helped that my guests were very supportive. Nobody questioned the format, and everyone participated. In the second icebreaker, I sensed people had warmed up and felt more comfortable sharing, and the energy in the room, which was great from the beginning, was even better.
The best type of feedback that I got about the event was from people who were critical of the formula and things like nametags and the two-hour restriction, who eventually saw the value of these ideas and changed their minds. Some expressed the desire to gather again in the same crowd on a weekend with no end time, which is an excellent testament to the people in attendance.
My focus was on running a fantastic event for my guests. I talked to most people but was also slightly occupied with party logistics. Hence, I haven’t gotten the maximum possible value from it regarding individual conversations with those who came and whom I knew less well. However, I didn’t have any set expectations about it. I still had a great time that Wednesday night and ended with the feeling that the whole affair was quite effortless despite the time invested in invitations and preparations. I’m happy to check off one thing from my list for the new year.
I can’t say how much time I invested precisely. A few hours went into setting up the event website, but I also indulged in a lot of custom coding that wouldn’t have been necessary, but it’s something I obviously enjoyed. Sending invites and replying to messages were sprinkled throughout my workdays. I went on a big shopping trip (thanks to my sister’s tremendous support!) the day before and spent some time cutting vegetables and cheese to serve. Again, I could have spent less effort, but I enjoyed the preparations. I would have gotten away with only simple, ready-made snacks. I won’t count the time cleaning because that was due anyway.
Nick’s book not only provided a formula and a potential scapegoat in case the party failed, but it also helped me overcome the fear that my living space wouldn’t be appropriate to host a crowd. An exciting side-effect of hosting was that the apartment felt more like home, and I’ve gained some new appreciation for where and how I live.
Will I host again? Absolutely! I know that the concept works. Also, some people wanted to attend but couldn’t, and others I hadn’t even invited because the list was already filling itself. Next time, I hope for a mix of new faces and repeat guests.
Being known as a host and community builder is a long game. I haven’t seen any significant effects on the rest of my social life yet, but it’s not something that can happen with a single party. I imagine that after hosting two or three more of these parties and maybe other formats, I will see some unexpected effects later. I hope that others will follow my example and host as well. I also look forward to sharing my knowledge and experience and helping others host. And if there’s one takeaway from this post: you can do it, too.
So far, Twitter/X has been my primary social media site, but a year ago, I wondered if and how I should continue using it in light of changes made by its new owner, Elon Musk. I decided to take my time with things and observe the changes, considering that I was at a time when I didn’t focus on marketing and outreach for work. For 2024, however, I want to connect to more people to find additional professional opportunities to build my brand and expand my freelance business.
It seems like the worst predictions for Twitter/X were false. The site didn’t crash or collapse. Communities didn’t emigrate en masse, although some have said goodbye and moved to other platforms. The vibe may have shifted, but the service still has cozy corners. I don’t want to leave with a bang, but I also don’t feel confident about investing more into X, mainly because I’m curious about other alternatives. Hence, I’ve decided to use X only to interact with people from communities heavily relying on it, like Interintellect. I will still share important announcements and the occasional general-interest tweet, but I won’t try building and growing an audience. Which platforms will I use instead?
One platform I want to give additional attention to is LinkedIn. It’s not the most exciting platform, but it’s where everyone seems to be. If I want to build my business, I should invest more. I plan to share three weekly posts to discuss my work and the industry and regularly interact with posts from my connections to remain visible.
I will also build a new website and landing page with an email list as a sales funnel for consulting services. I’ve yet to finalize the details, but I’m working with a friend to build it. There will be some overlap and strategic connection between LinkedIn, this landing page, and my emails.
I will invest more in the fediverse and post regularly on my Mastodon account. Software engineers and people from the broader community, like technical writers, API designers, and DevRel folks, were among the first to look at alternatives to X. I want to engage them and share my work there. Compared to LinkedIn, though, it will be the slightly nerdier, techier, more raw version of my brand.
This blog will remain a behind-the-scenes channel for both work and personal stuff. It’s public and connected to my name, but I’m not aggressively marketing it. It’s for those who want to go deeper. The post you’re reading now is an excellent example of the type of content you can expect here. I’m using Bluesky for more random “tweets” (are they called “skeets” now?) that I want to get out of my head.
I’ve recently deleted all posts from my Instagram because I couldn’t keep up posting strategically and didn’t want to create feed posts randomly. Hence, I’ve decided to use Instagram only for ephemeral stories which cover multiple aspects of my life. I recently uninstalled the original inventor of short stories, Snapchat, from my phone and deleted my account because I don’t have enough contacts there to make sharing stories worthwhile.
The only interesting aspect of Threads, Instagram’s text-based spin-off, is the eventual fediverse support through ActivityPub integration. I will play with it once it’s out, but I’m not expecting Threads to play an active role for me. I also want to experiment with other fediverse platforms, like Pixelfed and Bookwyrm, but I still need to figure out how. Flipboard’s announced ActivityPub support has also caught my attention.
I’m not posting regularly on Facebook, but I still keep it as a “book of faces” of people I’ve met because I think it still serves this purpose well.
I’ve grown fond of a small German neighborhood network called nebenan.de for local connections. I like small alternatives to big players, even if they’re not part of the fediverse, so I’ll do my part to keep this network active and connect with people in my area.
VERO is another network with a short hype a few years ago that is still on my phone. I’m not actively posting there anymore, but I like many aspects of the app and think about using it more. Or should I drop it, as I have too many networks already?! Another app I’m unsure about is BeReal. It’s an excellent, non-distracting way to keep up with friends, but I only have a few contacts who actively use it.
Very soon, I’ll delete my XING account. The network used to be the European LinkedIn, but the geographical split doesn’t make sense in an age of global business. The company has recently made changes that make it feel more like a traditional job portal and, hence, not applicable for a freelance entrepreneur like myself unless I wanted to recruit full-time employees. My relevant XING connections are on LinkedIn, too.
How is your social media strategy for 2024?