HeyJaredLeetta’s Substack
This isn't some fluffy self-help guru nonsense; Think of it as a knowing nod from someone who's been there (and is still navigating it). You'll find practical, no-BS advice for this stage of the game, plus real talk on how to finally cut yourself slack!
- Indexed issues, last 90 days
- 16
- Latest publication
- Sep 28, 2026
- Audience
- Checking…
- Earliest in this view
- Jul 21, 2026
Latest issues
We are done shrinking here (opens the original)
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It is amusing as hell that I spent most of my life trying to curate my body for an audience whose understanding of female anatomy usually begins and ends with airbrushed magazine pages and wishful drinking.The notion that I should consult a man—creatures who frequently need a 40-minute orientation to find the item they’re looking for that is sitting right in front of them on the counter—about what makes a mature woman’s body worthy of admiration is nothing short of a cosmic punchline.For decades
Smoke, Salt Lake, and the Girl I Left Behind (opens the original)
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About a month ago, the stress of a looming work trip in Salt Lake City drove me straight back to a habit I thought I’d left behind.I was in Salt Lake City for training.I didn’t dread the training itself. I dreaded facing, and more importantly, feeling the inevitable, gut-punch realization that I was walking back into a space where I no longer belonged.I arrived a few days early just to spend time with a dear friend. I was bone-tired of performing, and I desperately needed the kind of radical, un
The Generation X Survival Guide: Tending the Fire Without Burning Out (opens the original)
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If you’re anything like me, then you already know that the majority of us are experiencing a particular kind of quiet exhaustion that settles into our bones when we realize we are standing right in the middle of a bridge. On one side, you have the ones that came before you—the ones whose hands taught you how to navigate this world and drive a car. They’re not only your past, they’re likely part of your present as they’re now navigating their own twilight, needing a little more steadying and a li
Paid in Full (opens the original)
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At five o’clock, the porch still belonged to the dark. The air snapped clean and dry—a long-overdue mercy after summer’s heavy weight—and the mug burned a welcome heat against my palms. I set it down, let the swing catch me, and waited for the ridge to light. Fall had returned in mid-September!Green is a long hum; autumn color is punctuation. The moment the woods start dropping their ledger onto the trail, the noise in my head lowers a register. You cannot rush a path carpeted in dry maple and o
Serpents, Ursines, and Bog Goblins, oh My! (opens the original)
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(Adjusts mic, taps it a few times, leans in close, and lowers the voice to a gravelly, midnight-broadcast rasp)The Dream, The Beasts, and The BaggageThe dream didn’t start with sound. It started with a shift in the air—that heavy, resinous stillness right before a mountain storm breaks. I was deep in the woods of my childhood when the rain began. Fine, misty, soaking right through the layers, making me freeze from the inside out.Then, it was there.I felt the massive presence long before I could
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