Phetasy News - You Aren't Alone

Factory Settings 2 - Parenting, Former Marxist Finds Himself Politically Homeless, Greg Lukianoff Wishes Business Wasn't Booming, Slut Regrets, and Dumpster Fire Political Onesies

Sep 09, 2022

Greetings from the Phetaverse!

There is an ongoing joke around here whenever we’re trying to write my bio. Cousin Maggie and I will always start it saying, “Phetasy was born in the card aisle of a drug store,” and die laughing. Although I wasn’t born in the card aisle of a drug store—the idea for Phetasy, Inc. was.

It was 2001 and I was looking for a greeting card for my dad’s girlfriend and there was nothing. Opening card after card after card I found myself asking, “Whose families are this perfect?” My family was broken. There were step-parents and dad’s-girlfriends-sons. There were teenage parents and addicts. None of us were represented in the image of the perfect family portrayed by these greeting cards.

Standing in that card aisle, feeling lost, a seed was planted. I was going to start a greeting card company for dysfunctional families. So, I did. I then proceeded to go bankrupt. (It’s a long story and I’m not giving up on these cards—I just need to be smart about it this time.) Turns out, there’s not a card for that, either.

There is a lot of talk in business about getting to the “Why.” Simon Sinek did a fantastic TED Talk that’s been viewed almost 60 million times based on his classic book Start with Why. I’ve been thinking a lot about why I started this company. Why I put myself out there. Why I write or create or perform. What drives me? Why am I doing this? What is my purpose? Why do people buy my product or subscribe to my newsletter or become supporters?

Honestly, it goes back to that greeting card aisle. I do it because I felt lost and alone—and I didn’t want other people to feel lost or alone. Everything I do comes from that impulse to connect to people and hear their stories—whether it’s Dumpster Fire or Walk-Ins Welcome or our newest project, Letters from the Politically Homeless.

For years people have been writing me emails about feeling lost in the culture wars. I have thousands of them. And they’re not a couple of hundred words—often people write entire essays describing in great detail their political journey—the thought processes and events that lead to an ideological migration of sorts. People share their frustrations and their loss. Mostly they share that they’ve felt either crazy or alone or both. And now, with their permission, we’re sharing these letters with you.

And so I’m returned to that moment in the drugstore. Feeling alone. Knowing I’m not. And wanting you to know, you’re not alone either.