Everyone has something to tell (even if they don't know it)
Why you think you have nothing to say and why you're wrong
🏷️ Categories: Writing.
Many people want to write, but they silence themselves.
It’s not due to lack of time or ideas. It’s because they tell themselves: “I don’t know enough. Everything’s already been said. I have nothing special to add.” And just like that, they convince themselves their words hold no value. They believe writing is reserved for people with walls full of diplomas, indisputable authority in a subject, or a list of great achievements behind them.
If they’re not Shakespeare, they think it’s better to stay quiet and not bother anyone.
I used to think that way too. I thought…
But not anymore.
We’re all experts in something (you just don’t realize it)
Most people who want to write but don’t take the leap share one thing in common:
They haven’t yet realized they do have something (or a lot) worth sharing.
Each person (yes, you too) has spent years collecting information, experiences, instincts, and references around a specific topic. It might seem normal to you because it comes naturally. But that’s exactly where the treasure is: the things you do or know without even thinking... others don’t even know they exist. This is what’s known as the “curse of knowledge”: once you know something, it feels so obvious that you undervalue it and assume everyone else knows it too.
Take a look at this and you’ll see what I mean.
You could probably talk for hours about travel, or literature, or film, or how moving from the city to the countryside brought you peace, or how to grow your own food and live self-sufficiently, or about your systems for staying organized. You could talk for hours about so many topics — at a level worthy of an expert.
That’s your informational advantage.
The moment you truly understand yourself, the possibilities are endless.
My mother has been cooking all her life. She doesn’t follow recipes — she embodies them. She knows when a dish is ready without tasting it. She never measures ingredients — just by looking, she knows the exact quantity. And she’s never cooked a bad meal. Her knowledge could easily fill a cookbook series and a weekly newsletter.
A painter friend of mine has worked with everything: oil, acrylic, watercolor, spray paint, wood, canvas, walls. He’s sold artwork, painted murals and canvases, and exhibited in multiple events. He could talk for hours about technique, materials, inspiration, and common mistakes. He could write several books and run a newsletter, at the very least.
Another friend, a calisthenics fanatic, trained from scratch without a gym. Today, he understands mobility, training, nutrition, and recovery. He’s helped friends, read studies, and tested everything on his own body. He lives his knowledge. He could run a newsletter, write books, and host a podcast.
They’re all experts.
And if you still think you’re not an expert in anything, do this exercise. Take five minutes (yes, just five) and answer honestly:
What do your friends or family come to you for advice on?
What skills do you take for granted that others don’t have?
What could you talk about for hours without getting bored or running out of ideas?
What do you do naturally and frequently that others say is “difficult”?
What have you lived through, overcome, or learned firsthand that you could teach someone just starting out?
What’s “normal” to you could be a guide, an inspiration, or even a concrete solution to a real problem someone else has been struggling with for ages. You don’t need a brilliant idea. You just need to start recognizing the value of what you already know.
That’s where your informational advantage as a writer begins — and what will make you stand out.
Practicing in public: the way to discover your potential
Writing has changed.
Before the internet, it was a solitary act: you published a book and maybe never found out who read it. Today, it’s different. Today, writing is more like playing guitar on a street corner. You don’t know if anyone will stop to listen... but if someone does, they might smile, drop a coin, or start an unexpected conversation.
That creates a powerful writer–reader connection.
And that’s the second key. Once you’ve identified your areas of informational advantage, practice in public and you’ll receive direct feedback from your readers — real data.
You noticed that story about your insecurities and lessons learned while starting a business got tons of grateful messages.
You saw that “ordinary” email about your task management system sparked genuine replies from readers wanting to know more.
You realized that post about how you rebuilt a lost habit deeply resonated with others silently facing the same struggle.
This kind of direct, immediate connection — no writer had access to it before the Internet.
It’s something completely new. Before, you wrote and waited. Now, you write... and listen. You hear which part of your story made someone write back, “Thank you, I needed to read this.” You learn which topics generate questions, interest, and responses.
That’s how you’ll find your niche.
Out of all the topics living inside you, some will resonate with others. That’s your niche. The very thing you thought you didn’t have — “something worth saying.” But you couldn’t see it… because you had never said it out loud.
You only need two steps to get there:
Know your informational advantage
Practice in public
Sounds good, but let me confess something: the hardest part of writing isn’t having something to say — the hardest part is not giving up when nobody’s listening. This is where most people quit: in the uncomfortable beginner phase. They use those tough early days to self-sabotage and confirm their belief that they never had anything to say.
In reality, they weren’t read... because they didn’t stick around long enough.
All beginnings are uncomfortable.
But if you stick with it, if you publish even when no one is watching, if you keep improving even when no one comments… someone will show up. Then another. Then a hundred. Listen, learn from your readers, expand your informational advantage across more topics. And above all: never stop providing value — hold yourself to a high standard.
What separates those who succeed from those who don’t is consistency.
I’ve lived it.
Publishing my first article was uncomfortable. I doubted myself. Barely five people read it. But I didn’t quit. And because of that, I discovered that yes, I did have something to say. So do you.
You just have to start.
✍️ Your turn: If you had to publish your first piece tomorrow, what would you write about... even if it scared you?
💭 Quote of the day: “After more than two hours, he began to write, not knowing how he would do it right.” — Markus Zusak, The Book Thief
See you in the next letter. Big hug! 👋
You've just revealed the essence of being human, Alvaro. We all have stories. And there's always someone out there who wants to hear/read them. One of the many things I've learns from my time on Substack is that I learn new information as I write a piece. Verifying online a certain fact or name. Reaching deep inside for the core of truth embedded in the story. The therapy that provides quite by accident. And then there is, as you said here, that reader who needed to read that piece today. You are a wonder, Alvaro. I learn from you with every article I read. Thank you.