#100: What It Means to Be Relentlessly Curious
Why I write and what I’ve learned
Author’s Note: On November 1, I’ll be running the 2026 New York City Marathon in memory of my uncle Chris and in support of the Parkinson’s Foundation. As this newsletter lands in your inbox, I’m likely out on a hot, humid training run. If you’d like to learn more about Parkinson’s disease or support my fundraising efforts, you can visit my fundraising page here.
Today marks the 100th Relentlessly Curious article, and it’s going to be a little different than the usual AI, media, and consumer brand content. I’m going to peel back the curtain on why I write, and what I’ve learned from publishing 100 editions.
Every week, I give my take on topics across the AI, media, and consumer brand landscape. Sometimes, the ideas flow out of me like a river. Other times, I’m racking my brain late on a Monday night, squeaking something out for my self-imposed Tuesday at 8AM EST deadline. I do not make money directly from Relentlessly Curious.
So why do I do it?
A few reasons.
Writing is a creative outlet that provides me with fulfillment.
I struggle with the balance between creation and consumption in the digital age of endless content. Open TikTok or Instagram, and you are greeted with an unlimited number of pictures to see or videos to watch. Better yet, the content is fine-tuned to exactly the topics you prefer to watch. Social media algorithms know you better than you know yourself.
In 2024, I concluded that I was spending way too much time consuming content. Instagram consistently topped my screen time leaderboard. I didn’t like the behavior that came along with social media consumption. For instance, sending memes to old friends became the substitute for picking up the phone and giving them a call. Spoiler alert: it’s a false sense of closeness and you learn nothing about how a person’s life is going if you trade slop content back and forth as your only means of communication.
I also didn’t like what social media was doing to my brain. I consider myself a driven person, but was feeling demotivated and defaulting to just staring at my phone in my free time. Yet I wanted to do something meaningful like starting another business (fun fact: I ran a pickleball e-commerce business in 2023) or some other creative pursuit. I have an overarching need to always be productive (a blessing and a curse), and social media was greatly hindering this primal desire.
So, I acted. For the second half of 2024 into the middle of 2025, I created an Instagram account dedicated to aesthetic pictures of the West Village (my former neighborhood). So, on weekends, I would bike down to West Village and snap photos on my iPhone of quaint streets, trendy restaurants, and restaurant diners sipping martinis on patios. With the goal of curating a minimalist, trendy vibe. I would post these photos with my subtle, yet recognizable logo I designed in Canva and write an introspective few words as a caption. The goal was to build a clothing brand* after achieving social media success (however the heck you want to define “success” here), as it’s way too expensive to invest in paid media without a sizable organic social following first.
Here’s the problem: I hated running the Instagram account (it also failed to hit any meaningful amount of followers).
I’m not exaggerating. I’m just not particularly interested in photography or visual content editing. And I didn’t enjoy being on Instagram more as you need to be on Instagram to grow an Instagram account (the platform I was trying to get away from).
I’ll speak for myself: to be consistent, you need to enjoy all the work you are doing. Well, most of it. Although I posted a picture or video close to 90 times on the account, I knew that to succeed in social media, I needed to post multiple times every day and engage with followers and other accounts. Additionally, I knew I should invest more in equipment and purchase a proper camera. But I just didn’t want to do it.
So, I quit. It was a great decision.
Quitting is totally okay. Because it’s important to know when you are going nowhere fast.
In mid-February 2025, I decided to write a few thoughts in a Word document about AI. I did this at the same time as I was burning out from running the Instagram account. I figured, why not try another creative pursuit as Instagram wasn’t working out.
And I got lucky. I created a Substack, sent the first article out, and texted friends the link.
They liked it. They gave me feedback, and I kept iterating.
And I really began to enjoy the process. I didn’t mind staying up late to churn out an article or wake up a bit earlier to read a few extra articles to help inform my perspective on a future writing topic.
If you want to be a creator, you need to find something you can be consistent with. Especially when it’s inconvenient or you’re tired or sick. I’m glad I found that. Writing is the creative pursuit that makes me feel fulfilled.
*I’ll hold off on sharing the Instagram account’s name as I believe that the name itself has potential to be part of some sort of brand in the future. Consider this idea shelved, but not in the trash.
I am writing because it allows me to try to stay up to date with the latest advancements in technology.
I believe AI is a once-in-a-lifetime technological development. And it’s moving at light speed.
I write a Substack about AI and I still feel overwhelmed! Every day, it seems that there’s a new model update, a new flashy vertical start-up splashing onto the scene, and a new way to use AI that is fundamentally different than yesterday’s iteration.
It’s too much. Thus, I write as an exercise in pulling out what matters most. Whether it’s hard skills around AI implementation or the latest happenings in public and private markets, I aim to focus on “where the puck is going,” not where it is today.
Relentlessly Curious is how I stay accountable to keep up with the pace of AI. I believe this will pay dividends for my career many years from now, so I figure it’s worth it.
Writing allows me to preserve what I believe to be the most important skill in the AI era: communication.
If you are a longtime subscriber, this “why” will sound familiar as I’ve written plenty on this topic.
I believe AI will commoditize most forms of knowledge work. As a result, the most important skill will be how to communicate with AI and how to communicate with people.
Even now, knowing how to properly prompt, guide, and critique AI is table stakes. You need to be able to articulate your thoughts so AI can provide your intended output. And writing is a great way to do so.
It’s not an original thought, but I’m a firm believer that AI won’t replace your job. It’s people using AI that will take your spot.
And then there’s writing to communicate with people. Because the internet has been covered in AI-generated slop, sharp, authentic writing helps cut through the noise. Real perspectives from real people. I’ve decided that I want the core of my personal brand to be my writing, as I enjoy writing and I believe it will benefit my career down the line.
Thank you for following along as I sharpen my written communication!
Switching gears, I’ve learned a few things along the way too.
Writing really helps you understand a topic.
I find that the best test on whether you understand “something” is to teach it to someone else. If you can explain a topic and get someone to understand how it can be applied to various situations, you likely have in-depth knowledge of said topic.
I view writing as “teaching”. By putting my thoughts on paper (well, in a digital document) and sharing it with others, I’ve demonstrated mastery of the subject.
Here are a few tangible examples.
The How-to Claude Code series forced me to deeply understand how to organize my file structure, build multi-agent workflows, and automate processes with Claude skills. Then, there’s the Hot Takes in AI series (a fan favorite) that keeps me up to date on the latest trends, so I understand where the frontier is headed. Furthermore, the investment pieces have strengthened my conviction in my own investment portfolio.
Writing kicks off the following chain reaction:
Learning → Writing -> Teaching -> Mastery of a Topic
Pressing “publish” gets easier every time.
Every time I “schedule send” or “publish” a Substack article or a LinkedIn post, I get a little less anxious. It’s a bit unnerving to have your identity attached to your thoughts and opinions, which anyone on the internet can read and critique. Friends, family members, and coworkers can see opinions they may disagree with. Or what if I write something that is factually wrong?
It’s a risk I take. Especially as I’m writing with my name attached to the Substack. I’m fully out in the open with my Substack and on LinkedIn (since I post there to drive traffic to my Substack).
If you’re reading this and are worried about public perception around your creative pursuit, give yourself a break. No one thinks about you more than you do, meaning if you do make a mistake, people are unlikely to remember it as they are too focused on themselves.
At the end of the day, if you want your account or work to grow and reach more people, don’t you want people to critique it? Criticism is feedback, and if there’s anything I’ve learned, there are plenty of kind people on the internet that read my articles and share their thoughts.
Public accountability builds confidence.
Piggybacking on the last point, if I’m willing to post my thoughts on Substack and preach about it on LinkedIn, I need to have a level of confidence that my content is good. I take this seriously and hold myself to a high bar as my content reflects my thinking.
Posting online has built my confidence because there’s something profound in putting your unique ideas into the ether and feeling okay about others having their opinion on them. Whether they share their thoughts or not. You’re contributing to the knowledge base of the world, and that’s something worth being proud of.
This has overflowed into other areas of my life, particularly in my work. Whether it’s automating processes or solving problems in a more efficient and effective way in my career or throughout networking, I feel confident enough to share my perspective without fear of being wrong. I spend my free time learning and “teaching”, and it’s paid off.
Heck, I was able to pivot my career from e-commerce into product management, and now in a forward deployed engineer role at an AI start-up thanks in large part to my willingness to write and share my thoughts in public. Making a career transition requires confidence, and what better way to build confidence by learning new skills and teaching others for all to see.
I want to underscore the point I just made. I pivoted myself to a more technical career without any formal training or education and writing online played a critical role. No $200K MBA, no family connection, no referral.
Every week, I open a blank Word document and start writing. Sometimes, I knock it out in one fell swoop. Other times, I write a few paragraphs and come back to the draft a few hours later. Or the next day.
My thoughts are all my own. I say this as AI has no place in my idea generation or drafting process. The whole point is to comprehend what I’m writing. If AI generated the article itself, it would defeat the purpose. If you’ve been around for a while, I’m sure this is of no surprise to you.
With that said, I will have AI polish up my grammar and syntax. Truth be told, I don’t remember anything from my middle school language arts classes and am thrilled for AI to bail me out here. I have no shame about that part.
I named the Substack, Relentlessly Curious, as it’s something I strive to be. After 100 articles, I’d say I’m well on my way.
To me, being relentlessly curious is about pursuing something without a deadline. It's believing that the effort you put in each day, or in this case every week, will compound over time, even if you're still unclear about where it will ultimately lead.
It’s worth noting, I’ve named the website, stayrelentlesslycurious.com. Emphasis on “stay”, because once I’ve woven being relentlessly curious into my identity, I don’t want to lose it. An object in motion stays in motion, you know?
A typical article is roughly 1,000 words. That means I’ve written over 100,000 words as part of my publication.
Here’s to another 100,000 and staying relentlessly curious.
Thank you to everyone who has supported me along the journey. Your encouragement and feedback keep me going.
If this is the first Relentlessly Curious article you have read, I recommend checking out a few recent ones to get a better sense of the typical content. And while you’re at it, please subscribe. I don’t monetize the Substack, so when I see someone subscribe, I get fired up as it’s validation for my work.