Reflections On My Love Affair With Medium

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Abstract

.Then one night, I hit the jackpot. She’s cute, funny, like-minded, and ready to have some fun. We go home — and that part matches the rest. I’ve hit paydirt! Is this a dream? Can it be?For the next week or two, I’m in total bliss. This is too good to be true. And then, it is! Suddenly, she ghosts me. Then she cancels a date with a lame excuse.And I realize, I’ve awakened from the dream. The honeymoon is over. Back to my old life. She offers no explanation! Won’t get on the phone. I’ll never know what happened. Oh well.So how does this parallel my Medium experience? I wrote 500 stories without one getting curated. Then one day, a dozen got the Medium seal of approval. I was amazed. From there, most of what I wrote (about 4 stories every day) were curated as well.My numbers went up from 100

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— 200 views a day to 11,000. I was in shock! Then one day, I lost a curation sticker on a story. And then another. And then a bunch!I wrote in and received a form letter back. I wrote in again and got a vague response. I wrote again and…nothing.What did I do with the girl in the bar? I have no idea. What did I do with Medium? Same. Will I ever know why in either case? Not likely.I look on the bright side. It’s painful to lose what I had all right. But at least I had it for a fleeting moment. So I pick myself up and continue. What else can I do?I might never find the perfect woman. And I may never get curated again. Such is the agony and ecstasy of life. I’ll try to feature the ecstasy in my mind— and squash the agony. One foot in front of the other — and all that jazz. I’m a survivor.</article></body>

It’s been a stormy relationship

Allow me to speak metaphorically to make my point. Imagine we’re in pre-pandemic times. Every night, I go out drinking at a local bar — hoping to find the perfect partner.

And each night, I take a few shots chatting up a woman but basically, end up going home having established nothing. The all-elusive perfect woman is just that.

Then one night, I hit the jackpot. She’s cute, funny, like-minded, and ready to have some fun. We go home — and that part matches the rest. I’ve hit paydirt! Is this a dream? Can it be?

For the next week or two, I’m in total bliss. This is too good to be true. And then, it is! Suddenly, she ghosts me. Then she cancels a date with a lame excuse.

And I realize, I’ve awakened from the dream. The honeymoon is over. Back to my old life. She offers no explanation! Won’t get on the phone. I’ll never know what happened. Oh well.

So how does this parallel my Medium experience? I wrote 500 stories without one getting curated. Then one day, a dozen got the Medium seal of approval. I was amazed. From there, most of what I wrote (about 4 stories every day) were curated as well.

My numbers went up from 100 — 200 views a day to 11,000. I was in shock! Then one day, I lost a curation sticker on a story. And then another. And then a bunch!

I wrote in and received a form letter back. I wrote in again and got a vague response. I wrote again and…nothing.

What did I do with the girl in the bar? I have no idea. What did I do with Medium? Same. Will I ever know why in either case? Not likely.

I look on the bright side. It’s painful to lose what I had all right. But at least I had it for a fleeting moment. So I pick myself up and continue. What else can I do?

I might never find the perfect woman. And I may never get curated again. Such is the agony and ecstasy of life. I’ll try to feature the ecstasy in my mind— and squash the agony. One foot in front of the other — and all that jazz. I’m a survivor.