I want to thank everyone who took the time to read my last post, “If I Were to Walk Away from Wish Dish”. The support we received from the contributors was unbelievable. About 20 minutes after the release, I received a phone call from Carden Wyckoff, an amazing contributor of ours, who wanted to share why what we do is so important. It was refreshing to hear.

Then a friend from NYU in the poetry and literature fields reached out to express how hard it is for people in his community to be heard, represented, and given a voice.

From direct messages to phone calls, people who have been part of my mission all stood firm and unified in their stance: “Don’t Give Up, Keep Going.”

So where are we going?

My Trip to NYC

Empire State Building to my left. Freedom Tower to my right. I was sitting down on a bench in Hoboken, NJ putting our 3 month and 1 year plans into concrete words.  Typically, I do my writing behind closed doors, not in front of two of the most inspiring buildings in the world.

I felt different. The dream was running high, and I became fixated on the opportunity to achieve a vision that can connect the world through authentic self-expression.

For the past year and a half, the Wish Dish has been finding our voice and understanding who we are. We’ve been playing with art, making new art, and learning how to create ways for people to express themselves. We received at least 20% growth for a period of 12 straight months and built a site to 15k monthly visitors and 3,500+ subscribers.

We have achieved a lot, but frankly, there was never a plan in place. Just micro plans, but no macro vision. Simply, we were just doing,without taking the time to truly understand the picture of what we were truly building.

And as the leader of the Wish Dish, I failed in not implementing any processes or systems to achieve a tangible vision. But this is also a place where I can greatly improve, an opportunity that excites me.

Where Dreams Are Made

While in NYC, I walked into a bar to meet one of the early founders of Elite Daily, Serge Efap. For those that don’t know, in Elite Daily’s prime, they averaged 75 million monthly visitors. Serge saw the growth from a few thousand visitors a month to millions. And he helped lay the groundwork for the operational foundation.

Serge and I had one of the most incredible conversations as I gained insight into how they grew and what we needed to do differently to achieve similar levels of success. If I were to only remember one thing Serge said, it would be the importance of building a roadmap, a plan to get from A to B to C.  To say Serge was helpful would be an understatement. I’ve never met someone with so much drive, hustle, and determination.

Where I’ve struggled is not knowing exactly where that road needs to go because of the tricky nature of the content industry.  What I mean is so many people sacrifice short-term gain for long-term success. I’ve never wanted to do so for fear of ruining such a beautiful vision.

Speaking with Serge, someone in my space who was able to succeed on a massive level, almost brought me comfort in developing a plan. I set out to make a high level plan for the first time in my life.

The Next 3 Months of the Wish Dish

So what’s in the plan for the next 3 months, and how can you help us bring our vision to life? In the next few months, The Wish Dish will:

• Implement systems to grow our contributor team by 200+ new members in the areas of Sports, Health, Career, and News in order to gain 40,000 more monthly visitors. If you would like to learn more about becoming a consistent contributor or know someone that would, please reach out to bryan@thewishdish.com & matt@thewishdish.com.

• Implement systems to bring on community leaders to grow their own Wish Dish Tribes around their network and causes they care about. If you would like to learn more about becoming a community leader or know someone that would, please reach out to bryan@thewishdish.com & matt@thewishdish.com. Our goal is to have 24 community leaders, we have 7 right now.

• Create Distribution Partnerships with brands, influencers, and other websites taking on similar missions. If you would like to learn more about becoming a partner with us or know someone that would, please reach out to bryan@thewishdish.com & matt@thewishdish.com

• Build a better foundation for our product and establish our brand voice so that when you come to Wish Dish, you know our company mission and tagline. We will work to build a more consistent brand on social. If you would like to help us with our imagery or branding, please reach out to bryan@thewishdish.com & matt@thewishdish.com.

• Bring on 3 More Editors to our editing staff. If you would like to be an editor for Wish Dish, please email ln72297@gmail.com, rbanerjee15@gmail.com, and matt@thewishdish.com
  

• Further connect our contributors together. If you feel you would like to know someone on our platform, don’t hesitate to tell us. We will put you directly in touch until we can make this an automatic function on the platform.

Onward & Upward

While we don’t have millions of dollars in the bank to execute our plans, we have a strong why. We are giving a voice to the voiceless, helping others realize they are not alone and allowing people to connect over topics they truly care about.

As our Chief of Content Matt Gillick says, “we are building a revolution for authentic self-expression.”  Now we just need your help in our plan to get there. The Wish Dish looks forward to building a global brand that can impact and connect lives around the world.

Matt Gillick, Chief of Content for Wish Dish, thanking Wish Dish community at event of 200+ 

There are thoughts in my mind. My current state of mind. What I’m thinking, what I’m feeling is a consequence of the relationships I share with the world. I believe photographs have the power to depict what words simply just cannot. Moreover it’s a way to exhibit and project the thoughts in my mind. I have never felt better than expressing my mind in my photographs, as it makes me come to terms with myself, gives me a visual representation of what I’m feeling which comforts me. My only hope is that somewhere it does the same for someone else.

When I first started Wish Dish, little did I realize how important it was to have a strong technical lead.

Since Day 1, solving technical challenges has been like playing pickup basketball with the “Next Man Up” mentality. Luckily I’ve been able to find short term solutions that believe in me and get the job done. Since we have limited access to resources such as cash and living in a location where it’s hard to find a leader with good technical chops, this process has been a rigorous challenge.

We are now a full year into the entrepreneurial journey and our needs have changed.

When I think about why I started Wish Dish, I built the platform off of two pillars: freedom of self expression and meaningful connection. For me, I didn’t have the right place to share my voice and I lacked the community that cared to hear what I had to say. That was the genesis of Wish Dish.

I believe that we have accomplished our first goal of creating a platform where people can express how they feel without judgement from others. Ideally, I’d like to scale the contributor base to millions of contributors.

Having said that, I never created Wish Dish to be a successful “blog,” rather, I created Wish Dish to be an interactive platform. Similar to a place where people “hang out” and can find their tribe. I believe we are far away from our second pillar of creating a platform that facilitates personal connection online. We live in a world with mediums such as Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter that inhibit anything beyond surface level connection.

There has to be a way to go deeper, to create relationships on a personal level, and I believe we will be the platform that does this first.

Now, this is where a Chief Technology Officer comes to the table. In order for us to achieve our desired vision, we need to implement the right technology so our product can scale on its own.

But, what have I done to find it? … Great people don’t always show up on your doorstep in the beginning stages.

In the last six months, I have reached out to over one hundred web developers. I have spent countless hours asking them questions, being introduced to their friends, and building relationships. These conversations have been fascinating because I seem to learn something new every time. This is a unique breed of people who simply think in a way I have never experienced before.

In addition, I have also searched for CTO’s utilizing hashtags on twitter such as #Ilooklikeanengineer. I did this because it represents a female audience, one that makes up 70% of the audience on our platform.  There was a big campaign that started because Isis Anchalee stood up for women who faced gender discrimation in the engineering world. Once I identified a niche audience to target, I have tried to connect with them through their profiles on Twitter and LinkedIn.  This led to many phone calls and emails with little results.

I have also showed up to Meetups for developers in the Atlanta area. It is challenging when developers with great computer skills can be paid between $60k-$150k in my own backyard and I’m looking for someone to come on board at a meager salary with guaranteed equity base.

I have also emailed 20+ hackathon coordinators at various universities around the country and had Skype interviews with people they refer me to. Most of the students aren’t looking for opportunities that have long-term commitments.

Additionally, I have used platforms such as AngelList, Medium, VentureStorm and LinkedIn to search for web developers and connect with them. I’ve also strategized and tried to poach web developers from other media companies who may not have a leading role in the development process.

Being a company in the media space comes with the understanding this is no quick win. It takes 8-12 years to build something truly worthwhile and not many people want to sacrifice the time to see it payoff. We live in a world where people want instantenous success, and that will not be the case with our platform.

The journey has been a game of hard knocks. As a first time entrepreneur, who hasn’t “proven” his worth, I find it extremely difficult sometimes to find the right leader, who shares our common vision, to be the technical leader of our great vision. I know our needle in the haystack is out there, and I won’t stop digging through the pinestraw to find the right person.

Lastly, I don’t want to undermine the great work our WordPress agency has done at Classic City Consulting, but it’s time for us to build a lasting product, a core team, and something that makes a huge difference in society.

If you know anyone to introduce me to who would be interested or might know the right person, please let me know! bryan@thewishdish.com is where I hangout.

Finding my “Woz”

My Recommended Resource:

iWoz: Computer Geek to Cult Icon: How I Invented the Personal Computer, Co-Founded Apple, and Had Fun Doing It by Steve Wozniak

It’s no secret that Steve Wozniak and Steve Jobs through Apple revolutionized the computer industry with the invention of the first personal computer

Since then, Steve Wozniak has enjoyed his wealth, fame, and accolades as the sole inventor of the Apple I and Apple II computers, and tells his story here for the first time

We were in the car driving past the hubby buildings of Athens, Georgia and I was scared shitless.

They were classic American structures no more than five stories high made entirely out of brick. Refurbished factories converted into retail hotspots and trendy bars. Athens was a complex in the middle of a vast expanse, like a sturdy tree shooting high above a flooded valley that said yes sir, how’re y’all, and we’ll pray for you. Out in the distance the rolling, rolled-over fields allowed the last of the February chill to carry through town. Bryan Wish was in the front seat with his mom talking about what he was going to say when everyone arrived at the event. The Wish Dish One Year Anniversary.

I was sitting in the back holding some banners that covered my face silently venting what the hell are you doing. I was terrified. Didn’t look it but I wanted to jump out the car at the next red light and rush into Pauley’s Crepe Bar. Have a drink at the end of the bar and forget it all, that’s what I wanted. Don’t bother with these people, Matt, just go back inside yourself. But then I had to remind myself of how some wise ass kid from Reston, Virginia touched over 200 peoples’ lives in ways he couldn’t imagine.

Let me start off by telling you how me, a guy with a nasally drone and bad attitude got to know UGA’s own Bryan Wish.

We were living in Virginia, both in 6^th grade, and we played youth football together. Never really took to each other but that was mostly my fault. I never spoke–to anyone. I was a shy kid who liked to knock his big head around. After that, we happened to play on the same house league basketball team. Don’t remember much except losing in the semi-finals.

After that we didn’t talk for over a decade. We both had amassed different lives over the years. He went into sports and marketing while I tried to be a poet, still trying. One night I remember sitting in the living room of my apartment at Providence College, after an evening of trying to forget that college was coming to an end, I get a Facebook message; it’s Bryan. His mom had caught up with my mom at a Christmas party. That night there was this distinct March chill, like it belonged among the hills of Athens but laid to rest in small, grey Providence. Bryan found out I was a creative writing major (I wanted a lucrative career…) and asked me to write a piece. He said there were no boundaries, no limits, just something true and authentic. Right away, I said ‘sure.’

Damn Matt. What are you going to write about, you’re a fiction writer, you tell lies and call them stories. You’ve never written anything true in your life. After a couple of days thinking on what I should put down, I decided to write about something I had never talked about before. Bryan’s point to make it authentic and providing a place for it to live gave me the balls to go all out. Nothing held back. It was called “The Invaluable Luxury of a Second Chance.” I’ll admit it was tough getting it on paper. But after the tears and anguish and memories washing over me, it was over. It was actually over.

My body felt underweight. Like a tumor I’d grown attached to had been extracted and what filled up was understanding, relief.

The response to my piece was incredible. Thousands of people read it. I received messages telling me how raw and powerful it was. Truth has a way of settling in people’s hearts. To this day, I hope I will never feel as proud of a piece of writing.

Bryan slowly began acclimating me to this culture of self-expression in its infancy.

He asked over the next few months leading up to and after my graduation if I’d be willing to help him edit a few pieces here and there. I thought ‘sure, why not.’ I was the unofficial associate editor to the Wish Dish. People wrote me back and forth asking me: a guy who didn’t have anything figured out beyond what he was going to do in the next three hours, to lay out their deepest thoughts in the best way possible. I was more than happy to help.

Nurturing a story, a narrative of a life coming from someone where he or she expresses themselves most through language, is one of the most rewarding experiences I’ve ever had. Fast forward a couple months after graduation, Bryan asked me to be the manager of all content. I said, ‘sure.’ Yup, I was on my way. But not everything was so smooth in my life.

For the better part of a year after taking on the role, I went through a rough time. A combination of a bad breakup, entrenched anxiety, depression, and post-graduation uncertainty sent me down a twister of drinking, erratic behavior, and self-destructive tendencies. Longstanding issues I chose to ignore for several years came back to the forefront, like a bad chemical reaction. I reverted into a version of myself who acted savage and selfish. Kept thinking you’re nothing you piece of trash and who do you think you are Mr. Writer? Those voices plagued every portion of my mind and drinking was one of the only things that made it quiet. Drink until it went black, that was the prescription.

But there was one activity that gave me a center, a grounding. Working for The Wish Dish.

The time was approaching for the Wish Dish One Year Anniversary. It had already been one year…my God. I began to accept that there was no escape from what I was about to witness. Bryan was about to finally integrate this eclectic community of writers and artists that all had one thing in common, the essence of truth. I was going all-in, a commitment. There’d be no bars or dark corners to hide in.

We’d pulled up to Nuci’s Space, this venue dedicated to the club owner’s son. Nuci was a talented guitarist on his way to becoming a real staple in the Athens music scene. But he took his own life at the age of 22. On the back wall right next to a stage riddled with guitars like a shrine there was this eight foot tall picture of Nuci standing in the middle of a field looking up to the sky. It looked like he was thinking why can’t I be up there, maybe if I jump high enough…and a jab of realization got me right in the mouth. That could have been me. It was a real possibility that if I let shit get bad enough then I probably wouldn’t be able to dig myself out. If the drinking got that bad, and kept on feeling bad for myself–Right now I could be sailing the clouds up there with Nuci looking for a place to land on the sun. After a full year of looking through hundreds of stories from hundreds of people, I realized that apart from having the love and support of a wonderful family, these stories had formed me and kept my legs planted on the ground.

I’m not saying I’m a better person or that I’m cured but I will say these stories I am a conduit for, saved me.

During the long nights of barhopping, sometimes alone, finding a shadowed corner to paint with my self-pity, waking up early trying to remember how I got back, I’d check the site and make sure everything was running smoothly. Bryan counted on me to get these stories together, these people were depending on me. I thought I had been through some shit in my time but, I had no idea how much shit life throws at you until I read these stories, your stories. They, these men and women, had allowed me to gain a perspective that my life was nothing in the grand scheme if I didn’t want it to be anything. There was this center and that was the Wish Dish.

Instead of making meaning out of every day (my old motto), I wanted people to remember that I at least tried and that was all the meaning I’d need. I was ready to leave that jerkish asshole behind and start a new chapter of my life dedicated to a higher purpose greater than my own gain—But then, another wave hit me. I was in a riptide of revelation. Shit, all those people who’ve entrusted their words to you are going to be here tonight and you’re going to see them face to face. I was finally going to see each of them, talk to them, shake their hands. Oh for the love of shit, Matt, you’re just figuring this out now?! Anxiety was kicking in two-fold.

There was no distance, no invisible fourth wall to separate me from these people. Before, they were more ideas to me who had created beautiful language, like angels. Looking these people in the eye would be like a flashback from an acid trip and that freaked me out.

Standing still in the middle of the Nuci’s giving myself a 360 degree view, I was petrified again. I needed to see if I could slug a few beers to calm the nerves. The amount of relief is almost indescribable when I found out this event had an open bar. Never said I stopped drinking and, hey, I’m not perfect. After a few Tropicalias, I got to meet the rest of the incredible core of the Wish Dish staff.

Shelby Novak, our social media director, saw me. My face was a bit flushed from the beers, Irish red, and she straight-up hugged me. I could just feel that there was a kindness and good will emanating from her, I’d like to think I picked up a little bit of that. She had the Athens vibe, happy to help someone, to give someone a blanket on a cold spring night even when she might need it more.

Not too long after we had all the chairs set up, hung all the posters, and the microphone sound tested I saw the head of content strategy, Sam Dickinson. Dressed to the nines in a blazer, khakis, and a tie he made my blue button down with Polo sneakers a bit underdressed. He shook my hand with an earnestness I don’t see in many people. Along with being as tall as a redwood he’s a great guy, he’s genuine. We three had invested so much into giving people a voice in a world where words have increasingly diminished in their significance. People use them as throwaway symbols, like inconveniences suffered through for the sake of communication. This site and these people and most importantly these stories from young, old, sad, happy, empowered, victimized—they had come into this melting pot where each was celebrated and welcome.

And dammit I was going meet them, needed a few more beers as they all started trickling in.

The event went off without a hitch. I’ll let Bryan explain it from his perspective but just let me say that he is the core of this whole thing, a molder of culture. Believe it.

Nearly 200 people showed. That’s 200 stories I’ve read. How would they see me? Would I get criticized for my methods? Do they even know who I am? Did they think their stories were just magically put up on the site?

The amount of welcome and thanks I received shocked me to the foundation.

I talked with Tom Bestul, who had written a story about his experience at Camp Kesem, a camp for children whose families had been affected by cancer. His story inspired me to volunteer more. Another one was Megan Swanson, a former Miss Nebraska who gave her perspective on the highly criticized beauty pageant process. She helped to broaden my horizons. And Denna Babul’s story of love for her dying mother-in-law demonstrated how strong a bond one can share with another. If only I could have talked to every single one of these people I would have relived every moment perusing their words. With each passing recollection and introduction the moments grew more surreal. It might have been the beer but the whole event seemed to gather this arid, temperate hue like the words exchanged between all these storytellers was adding substance to the air, filling a void. I don’t know, maybe I was sloshed. But it was beautiful nonetheless.

The event was coming to an end and I felt the need to say something.

First I want to thank Bryan for allowing me to make the closing remarks. Standing up there, the crowd stared, all focus magnified on me like was under a hot beam on an ant hill. Matt what the hell are you going to say you have nothing prepared you never prepare for anything but can you ever be prepared for the truth, truth, yes, the truth just tell the truth—And this is a rough cut of what I said, it is a thanks to all you contributors, past and present.

Hey everyone, I’m Matt Gillick and I’m the chief editor. I’ve read all your stories and for that—well let me first that I’m sorry for any mistakes I made for any of your pieces—I’m not perfect but I try. I just thought that it would be decent of me to say a few words and to thank you all. Thank you guys for taking such a risk, not necessarily a physical risk but an emotional risk in entrusting me to nurture your words and publish them for everyone to see. Someone whom you’ve never met before and haven’t seen until right now got to see the inner you and what really makes you tick. Through language you showed me a corner of your soul. I wanted to let you all know that you are all incredible people. I have been shaped by your stories, every one of them. Let me finish by saying hopefully one day I can be a fraction of the person you all are now—when I’m older and greyer.  

Later on I walked outside, into the evening. There wasn’t a chill rolling from the hills anymore. Downtown was lit up and beckoning. Bryan patted me on the back as we looked out into the night, about eight Tropicalias deep, and I was happy.

For the first time in a while, I was happy.

Imagine waking up every single day for the last 400+ days and having one thing ever-present in your mind. How are you going to build a business? How are you going to create something that can have a meaningful impact and support yourself and the others working for you?

At 23 years old, I wake up every day with the pressures of juggling 10 things at once, and then going to sleep having to do it all over again when I wake up.

Sometimes it feels as if there is a drill in my brain prying down as far down is it can go. The drill is me thinking and functioning to create more ideas and get more “juice” for the day or late into the night so we can execute our organization successfully. When the juice is gone, I’m exhausted. But, there is always that quenching thirst for more…

At the end of the day, sometimes it’s hard to measure whether I’m playing guesswork, succeeding, or falling flat on my face. This journey is truly a battle, one that tests you, exposes you, and tells you to quit. I’m not listening.

A Quick Recap – What have we achieved the last year?

Our team at Wish Dish has taken an idea and turned it into a website that has had 300,000+ total visitors, 400+ content submissions, and now a monthly average of 15,000 – 30,000 views. We have shared stories at 13 different colleges. We have partnered with different businesses in Athens and Atlanta. We have also built a social following of over 6,000+ combined from Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter. We’ve established an incredible foundation in little over a year.

We all know WHY Wish Dish started. But HOW did it start?

In October 2014, my senior year of college, I was taking an entrepreneurship class with Chris Hanks. It was a fall day in October, and Professor Hanks was talking about going through the “dark night” meaning entrepreneurs go through a journey of ups and downs.

A classmate (stranger to me at the time), Michael Gargiulo, CEO of VPN.com, ended up raising his hand and giving an honest testimony of his struggles through the entrepreneurial journey.

It put a chill down my spine. While I didn’t know Michael I could point him out by his throwback Atlanta Hawks hat. I was working with the Hawks running a college program, so I decided to bring Michael a new Hawks shirt to let him know how much I appreciated his thoughts in class. Before I knew it, Michael and I became really good friends.

At the same time, I was also working on a blog called Influence (the infancy of the Wish Dish). The idea was to have people write something meaningful to “influence” others for the better. I shared these stories once a week on the blog. Michael then messaged me saying I should start my own website. Now that’s an idea…

After many late nights staying up messaging Michael from 10PM-2AM asking him how in the world to set up a website and finding a great friend named Aalok Patel, www.thewishdish.com was born.

Creating and Raising an Internet Baby

I remember launching Wish Dish in the basement of my house in Virginia around early January of 2015. I went through my phone, asked all my friends to share the website on social media. What I remember most from that first day was all the people asking me, “What in the world is Wish Dish?” a question that lingered for months…

I soon realized that creating a successful website was so much more than setting up a domain name and inserting a design on WordPress.

I told a bunch of people in my classes to write for the site and they kept asking, what is Wish Dish?

Wish Dish soon evolved into a place where someone could express themselves, offer their story to the world and either embrace or walk away, closing a chapter.

I told these people the same prompt over and over again, “Write something meaningful to influence others for the better. No limits, no boundaries, it’s your story so make it you.”  The open prompt and the willingness for us to hear various points of view is still a staple of our site.

It didn’t take long to realize that we were on to something. After reading the first few stories by Andrew Holleran, Chuck Blakeman, Dev Iyer, and Carden Wyckoff their posts received hundreds of likes on Facebook. They were given incredible support and feedback from their friends.

I was starting to resonate with people in such a deep way I never had before and learning things about my friends I never knew.

This was fun, we were making an impact, and building the start of something truly unique, memorable, and something that mattered

One of the Toughest Decisions of my Life

When I entered college I was on this mission to set myself apart from others due a low point in my life I won’t get into. By connecting my passion with sports early on in life with my business interests, I spent my freshman to senior years working relentlessly in the sports industry learning everything I could. If I chose a different path I would probably be working in the sports industry right now. But when I was approached to take a job up in New York, I hesitated. I knew that wasn’t my purpose.

But doubts still lingered.

Deciding Factors

I remember one conversation that was a real gut-check for me on whether I really wanted to continue with this site or to pack my bags and find what some might call a “real” job.

In the middle of February. I was leaving the gym on UGA’s campus and I called a mentor of mine named Chris Harris, CEO of Entrepreneur Hour & Lift It.

I told him, “Look Chris, I just don’t know if I can do this anymore. I should probably go to NYC and work.” His brevity was apparent, and he said, “Well, it’s your decision, do what you have to do.”

Chris built a multi-million dollar moving business bootstrapping every penny. There was a reason he was disappointed, especially after helping me for the past year and half.

Later that night I received a Facebook message from Chris basically saying to me, “Look Bryan, I can’t help you anymore if you are going to give up on your dream. Put on your armor, get tough, and be a man and continue on your journey.”

To simply put it. I had a tremendous amount of fear. I was thinking about giving up a huge job opportunity to risk it all for a vision that I had no idea would work.

Decision Time | Convincing My Parents and Saying No to NYC

I flew home to Virginia after spring break in mid-March. I had to have a serious talk with my parents about my plans post-graduation. It was not a conversation I was excited to have, but it was one that was necessary. I knew I would be facing an uphill climb.

Honestly, I felt deflated. My presentation to them was so lackluster. I was talking to my own parents, yet I was petrified the entire time. They had no idea why I wanted to pass up a great opportunity like a job in sports business. But I told them that I wanted to create something, not just view it as a hobby, but a gift I would offer up to the world and be remembered for.

Three hours later we walked away from our meeting place, both of them agreed to let me try and figure it out.

Now, I tell this story not to put down my parents (they have been the most supportive figures in my life from when I was a child. And that’s the truth), but because I believe this is a conversation that 90% of entrepreneurs face unless they were born into a family that just “gets it.” It’s just one you have to have.

A few months later, I graduated and the real world hit me hard.

My First Week of Work – (3 days after graduation)

I remember starting my first day working full-time for the site on Monday, May 18^th. I was still in Athens and all my college friends had left. I stayed behind while everyone else seemed to be embarking on the next chapters of their lives.

I will never forget the feeling of being mentally paralyzed the first few days. I had no idea what in the world to do or where to start. But I knew three things, just put my head down, start, and pray that it will all work out in the end.

But, some people help you figure it out along the way.

HW Creative Marketing & Richie Knight

Part of the process was understanding the business I was in so I tried to surround myself with resources who could help me succeed.

Richie Knight, founder of HW Creative was offering classes the spring semester of my senior year on Content Marketing and Search Engine Optimization. I started going to his classes and meeting with him for coffee to pick his brain.  After several discussions, Richie offered to help us build a professional looking site (our second site).

It was one of those pick-me-ups that come out of nowhere, that really helped accelerate our journey. This is a common story that has continued where it seems like the right people continue to walk into our journey at the right time.

A special thank you to Richie, because we wouldn’t be where we are without you today!

Influential Wish Dish Stories

While we set out to start a revolution of self-expression where people could dive into the deeper sides of their lives beyond what is seen normally in social media or everyday conversation, we didn’t realize what giving a voice would do for some of our community members. There are a few stories that really stick out in my mind and really show us we’re at the crossroads for something special.

One story to denote was by Josh Jones who wrote about overcoming his challenges with dyslexia. He had never written something like that before and it empathized with so many people. His story circulated through the entire Braves organization and now is working with the Brewers in the operations department pursuing his dream to be a General Manager.

Another really neat story came from Victoria Arnold when she submitted a piece about her rare sleeping disorder. How she could be so personal and open about such a hardship really shook me to the core.

Throughout this process people have approached me and said that I am making a difference in people’s lives. That I’m pulling back the layers we’ve used to isolate ourselves in a culture where information is available at the swipe of a tablet yet we couldn’t be further apart. They told me this mattered.

Special thank you to those who have reached out along the way. Now to the people behind the scenes, the ones in the trenches.

Forming our Team

To build something extraordinary, I believe that you need to surround yourself with phenomenal people. To begin this process I asked one of my best friends, Shelby Novak, to come on board and help set social media strategy (Shelby has been a consistent force for us to this day). Her social media presence keeps us relevant and open to the world.

The next key addition was adding our editor to the team, Matt Gillick. Matt is a Providence college graduate, and has an incredible understanding of literature, writing, and the framework of a story. He started editing all of our posts and now manages all content for the site and has brought two more editors on board. Matt has worked steadily with us since March and feels that every story we put out can have the chance of touching a person at a human level. We at the site deeply care about your words and have an editing staff who value them.

Another key piece to our team is Sam Dickinson. I asked Sam to join us in August after coming off his summer internship with Southwest Airlines. Sam serves in setting our site framework, public relations, and content strategy. When it comes to a clear vision and implementing those ideas, Sam is second to none. With Sam, we have found new and better ways to present our content.

Without an internal team working toward the same end-goal and mission, we truly wouldn’t be where we are today. It’s these people who are doing all the hard work behind the scenes that no one accounts for when looking at the platform as a whole.

The Future

From Day 1, we have set out to build a community that connects people through the sharing their story, whatever it may be. We have set out to give people a means to express themselves in their authentic voice. We have done both of these in a small way and we plan to keep doing so.

We realize that we cannot rest on our laurels. We have to keep moving forward in creating a platform that evolves with the needs of our community. We envision a community worldwide where people use Wish Dish to share specific life chapters because they know it as their place to share their story.

As long as someone has a story to tell, a song to sing, a beat to stomp to, The Wish Dish will be there to put the microphone in your hand. Express yourself and join us.

Who We Are

Everyone has a story to share – Wish Dish is where the world comes together to tell its story. We encourage our writers to be their authentic selves. Our rapidly growing communities are full of relatable, genuine people. We give you a place to make an impact and be part of something bigger than yourself. On Wish Dish, everyone has a voice.

Why You’ll Love Wish Dish

Wish Dish is more than just stories – our readers and our writers make meaningful connections. Keep this in mind: for every story our writers share, someone out there can relate to it. These connections we harness benefit our community members on both personal and professional levels.

Joining Wish Dish and taking part in our movement to connect the world in a meaningful way gives you the opportunity to create lasting relationships that never would have been created. Not only do we want you to be vocal by telling your story, but we encourage you to be vocal with us. We, the creators of Wish Dish, value your thoughts, so speak up! Tell your story. Give us feedback. You matter.

The Future!

Wish Dish aims to be the perfect home for the important stories of every chapter of your life story. We will connect you to similar community members automatically based on what you write, and based on your interests. Be it to musicians, creators, athletes, or professionals, you write your story and we will connect you. We aim to connect you both locally to the relatable individual down the road, or globally to your soul mate across the world.

We have big plans, so hang out and take a look around. We can’t do it without you.

To find out more about the personal story behind the platform, please visit Catalyst for Creation.

(Written by Aimee Goffe)

9142

As of this moment that is how many people I have reached with my story Try Not To Blink. A number that completely exceeded all of my expectations. Hitting over 100 likes on Instagram is awesome but reaching over 6,000 readers… I am blown away.

This incredible experience would not have been possible without the Wish Dish. When Bryan and the WishDish team reached out and asked me to write a personal story that could be shared with the community I was honored but a little nervous.

I am, by all means, an average writer. I took English classes because I had to and, as a marketing major; most of the content I produce is confined to a 140-character limit. I had a great story to tell. I had just lived the best three months of my life traveling around Europe but I didn’t know how to put it into words worth reading.

The WishDish not only provided a platform to share my story but friendly guidance and feedback to help make my story the best it could be. And I am grateful for their efforts in helping me produce quality content that students and members of the community would not only want to read but benefit from reading.

“Try Not to Blink” is one of my favorite works and will forever be a reminder to myself of the experiences I had abroad. Writing this piece allowed me to take the time to reflect on my experience and share my advice with other twenty-somethings looking to explore the world. I am so excited for the other members of this community who are making a difference with their stories. The WishDish embodies the word community. Challenging individuals to share personal words or works of art, inspiring readers to create and innovate, and defining millennials by individuality.

I wouldn’t want my words to represent anything else.

More After the Dish

After the Dish: Ashleigh Shay

Shanice’s After the Dish

After the Dish: Robert Liberatore

(Written by Elizabeth Howard)

Curled up in my bed after a long day at work, I’m scrolling through my usual online news outlets and what’s the latest buzz? Adele and her 2016 North American tour. The last time Adele sang in the United States was in 2011 and she only played in small venues. Now she has concerts in 14 states and Canada and all were sold out in minutes. The woman is an idol, a success story and everyone’s go-to car jam. She’s helped us all through the breakups and the rainy days, and for that we must thank her.

Adele Adkins was born on a normal day like anyone else, so what makes her an international sensation that makes people stop in their tracks in the aisles of Target just to sing the first three lines of ‘Hello’?

Adele has forever changed music. She will go down on the same pages as Etta James and Barbra Streisand. She is this generation’s musical goddess – with good reason. Adele’s perfect combination of raspy and milky-smooth notes can bring even a Cross Fit heavy lifter to their knees, but what makes Adele successful? To me, is how relatable and open she is.

At the beginning of 2015 I wrote down that I wanted to be more like Beyoncé. These were my promises to myself:

1. You can’t please everyone. Make the decision that makes you happy and stop concerning yourself about what that other person is saying about you. Bye Felicia.

2. Stop wasting your time on people who don’t really care about being your life. Life is way too short. Spend your precious time with people that love you and support you. Bye Felicia.

3. Friends are the family you choose. Choose them wisely because the company you keep defines many things in your life. Bye Felicia.

4. You are fearfully and wonderfully made. Stop looking at yourself and seeing flaws. They are not flaws but just one part of the masterpiece that makes up who are you. Hello Beyoncé.

5. Every person has a season in your life. Don’t keep poisons in your life. Just like a tree, let the pruning happen in your life if you need to. You will be more beautiful after. Hello Beyoncé.

6. YOU ARE YOUR OWN BEYONCE. Be fabulous and stop letting other people define what is fabulous. Hello Beyoncé.

We go into each year thinking we are going to be more like Beyoncé and Adele – I’m going to exercise more, eat better, read more and spend more time with family, but at some point we all seem to fall off the wagon, and our once-fresh new year aspirations are now jokes in Instagram captions as we post the latest batch of beautiful donuts.

How can we make goals that are realistic? How can we decide from day one to be a Beyoncé or an Adele? How can we be fabulous all year long?

It’s by being honest with ourselves. We need to be our true, authentic selves each and every day, not just to ourselves but also to the world. Man, does that sound terrifying.

Why would I want people to know that I’m having a bad week at work? Or that I miss my loved ones during the holidays? To me, that feels incredibly personal and why would anyone want to know these things about me? It’s because we all go through it, and we shouldn’t go through it alone.

Adele is loved because she is like anyone else, well despite her fame, fortune and beautiful voice. Adele is true to her authentic self through her music. She’s depressed? She writes a heart-wrenching song that we can all relate to. She’s mad? She writes a song that tears apart every piece of that angry memory. We love Adele because a piece of us can be found in every one of her songs.

If we can translate Adele’s ability to be relatable to our every day life, imagine how many people we could connect with? In today’s world there is a sense of need to show people that you’ve “made it,” and believe me, I’m a total victim of this feeling.

Why would I want people to think that I have rough weeks?

They may not think I’m mature or responsible or cool, but the truth of the matter is four years ago, I thought when I turned 22 I would have everything together, and that I would be an “adult.” I was totally wrong. I still want to take naps at 2 p.m., I lose socks like it’s my job, I can never remember to drop off my dry cleaning, and I still call my parents all the time asking them things like what’s wrong with my toilet or how do I cook bacon without setting the smoke detector off?

So who else burns their bacon? Who else still calls home to ask for advice? Who still uses dry shampoo and a hair tie on the mornings where you’re running late to work because 20 minutes of sleep sounded so worth it at the time? This is all me. The full me. The good, the bad and the ugly.

We’re in this together people. Let’s live authentically together. We may not be able to sing our lives like Adele, but we can tell people the truth and bond and grow over the same hopes, dreams and dilemmas.

Be you because, who knows, one day your life could be made into a multi-million dollar album and you wouldn’t want to miss out on that chance.

(Poetry by Rochelle Foles)

head banging

ballet slippers in the mosh pit

tutu and princess tights
palest pink

plea. aye?

behind the façade
beneath
palest pink princess costumes

cowers
a fighter
too fearful to tape on her gloves least her

fury
fully
unfurl

as tutu is forgotten

and all that lies within

ungirly
rough

ANGRY

INFURIATed BEYOND Mental Capacity
emotional containment

be
l
e
t

l

o

o

s

e

on those unbelieving that a pink tutued, pink tight wearing
chignoned
lithe
longlegged

fearful-
tooterrified 2 speak her mind for repercussion. for loss. for abandonment.

OH SOOOO GUNSHY OF EVERY LITTLE thing

could still be

(underneathitallhidingsomeonestronersomeonewithnotonefearsomeone)
[gun toting
dead aim
no fooling]
that dainty pointy toed pink ballerina

undreaming she, tho not she,could wield

a
right hook

nearly
quite
ever so nearly there
yes quite nearly

worthy

of an unbridled
untrained
enraged

Out Of His Constrained Belittled Unrecognized
Dazzling Intelligence

ignored

and
taken that one step beyond bearing

Cassius Clay.

the princess knows that mind
that bound mind
those presumptions
are all too familiar
Tho
buried
beyond
connection
she can. touch. stretch for. tap into.
they are hers
part of the soul she is blind to
as the eclipse is a part of the moon unseen by itself

nevertheless
theyareoneinthesameunchangingneverending
from

time
immemorial
to

time

as

a. black. whole.

one.

only one thing remains to be seen
which mirror will it be?

which comment slip from
a slovenly tongue unguarded?

what

straw

lain on

that

camel’s back

will put the first run in those pale pink tights

and
begin
the
unraveling of the

oh. so. carefully.

constructed. reality.

which pulled pin will cause
the chignon
to tumble

and thus begin

an

Ava
l
an
c
h
e

that
despite what the
long legged pink tutu costumed
one
t. t. e. m. p. t. s. to find those gloves and tapethemonfasterthanlightening
she

still has only that inkling of her connection to the

Greatest Fighter That Ever Was.

frightened and worn and self doubting
at. this. moment. as . the ballerina is

is
there

any possiblewayforhertotapin?

to
s
u
cc
e
s
s
f
u
l
l
y

CONQUER

or
at least to
postpone this

ARMAGEDDON?!!

or after all these years of belief?
of surviving
battle after battle

just to reclaim her sunny disposition
pull on those palest pink tights
step back into her pink tutuofpower

will this be the hour of her vanquishing?

do those pale pink princess accoutrements
still hold for her their promises?

is it time

to strap on the gloves and tap into
her
twin.
t
o
r
t
u
r
e
d

butohsostrongsounabletobebeatendownsoul.

always
the
lone
one

how
can a proper
chignoned
tutued
pinklegged
brokenhearted
princess

a
l
o
n
e

in
the

universe

know

when it’s the right time to strike

and
who would she now-
if
there
ever
was

a
n
y
o
n
e

who would she

call. upon.
to help her now.

[as if in this fairy tale there ever was anyone

alone
is alone
is as alone as a dead man in the ground]

and still
she
finds
a way

to
see
tomorrow

will
not

be

today.
daydreams:
when do u think
if ever
they quit
being nightmares
and
leak
full
force
REALITY

into
waking
daylight

(Written by Anonymous)

Author’s Note: My recount of experiencing a panic attack is not a general model that all sufferers of panic disorder experience. Panic attacks can occur at any time and the triggers and signs of a panic attack are unique to each person experiencing one. However, many people have trouble describing what it’s like to experience a panic attack after it’s over. People who have never experienced a panic attack often wonder what’s “really happening” in someone’s head during a panic episode. I wrote this to answer that question: to show what’s happening in my head during a live panic attack.

10:00am

In bed. I need to get out of bed. I’ve been in bed all morning and I have so much I need to do. I need to put in my transfer application; I need to rewrite my resume; I need to check my email. But I’m so warm and comfortable and safe in bed. I don’t want to leave this comfortable, safe haven. I can wait a little longer…

11:30am

In bed. I really need to get out of bed. I’m starving and I need to pee. Fine, I’ll get up. I just don’t feel good: my stomach hurts, my back hurts, my head hurts, it all hurts. But I don’t want to stop feeling safe and comfortable. But… ok I’m getting up, I’ve really got to pee now.

11:35am

Bathroom. Alright, come on girl. Just wash your hands, brush your hair. Ugh, my teeth are disgusting. And I’m breaking out again. I swear, I don’t get why people say I’m pretty; all of these zits are disgusting. I don’t think it would make much of a difference if the zits weren’t there. Why would anyone think I’m pretty? Zit-faced, overweight, out of shape, small boobs; I don’t even want to show my face in public. People will know as soon as they look at me; they’ll know I’m screwed up, they’ll never help me. Why would anyone help someone like me? No one would bother helping me; they’ll just watch as I get yelled at again.

11:45am

Kitchen. Cereal: check. Milk: check. Coffee: check. I should check my email…I haven’t checked it in three weeks. How many emails do I have? Don’t think about that. I bet the statuses of those job applications are in, I should probably check to see if…Why would they give me a job? I screwed up college, I don’t even have an official degree yet, I look disgusting. They’ll just be rejections anyway, like all the others. And there’s probably a ton of other emails I have to answer. I don’t want to see that number on my inbox; I can’t look at it. If I see that number I’ll know just how much a failure I am. Why do I even need to see that number? I already know I’m a failure.

12:20pm

Dining room with laptop. Ok, I can do this. I need to put in my transfer application. Put in contact information, done. Income and taxes, done and done. College credits completed…crap. I don’t want to know.

I have to pull up my school’s student portal and look at my grades to find out how many credits I’ve finished. All those B’s and C’s and two F’s, and so many class withdrawals. I can’t see those grades again; they’re just proof that I’m a failure and I can’t even take a freaking class and do well. And withdrawing from everything last semester…that wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t had him as a professor. He was so scary; he was just like her…No, stop! Don’t think about her, don’t do it. She’s in the past, just click save and go take a shower. Yeah, a shower will help.

1:00pm

In the shower. Breathe in, two, three, four. Out, two, three, four. In, two, three… It feels really small in here. Maybe if I open the curtain a little bit that’ll help, but then I could get hurt. If I open the curtain the water will get all over the floor.

Mom will be mad and she’ll yell; I can’t risk that. I can’t get yelled at, not again. I’ll get hit if I get yelled at. Everyone already knows I’m a loser and a failure and ugly; don’t yell at me because of that! I can’t breathe, I can’t, she’s going to hit me again, he’s going to yell. Sit down girl, just sit down, head between your knees like you learned in first aid training.

I’m not safe, they’re going to hurt me, they’re going to yell – *A gray-haired severe looking woman wields a hardcover textbook as I struggle to find the words. What was the question again? What do I like to do? “Me gusta… me gusta bailar, no, baila, no. Me, me gusta.. bailo?” Her face contorts, she walks to my desk, raising the textbook. “Repita!” I can’t remember how to start, what did I even say? “Me… yo no sé.” I see the book coming – SMACK. My head spins, I can’t stop the tears. “Repita!” I just cry harder, I can’t speak. “Repita!” More tears, everyone’s watching, I can’t move my mouth, I can’t even move my tongue, why doesn’t someone do something? SMACK. I can’t see, I can’t breathe, please God – SMACK.* Stop thinking about that! Just breathe in, breathe out. You’re just sitting in the shower breathing, it’s all ok, you’re ok. I breathe in; how long am I supposed to count for?

Do I count for breathing in or breathing out? Or both? Oh God, please help me, don’t let her hurt me! I need to get out, I need to get somewhere safe. If I stay here she’ll find me, she’ll make me cry in front of everyone, she’ll make me stay after everyone leaves like before, no one will be watching, no one can keep me safe. I need to get somewhere safe…

1:15pm

In bed. Breathe in, and out. Breathe in, and out. I’m safe here. It’s warm, no one can hurt me if I’m in bed. My chest hurts; am I having a heart attack? No, no I can’t be, that’s ridiculous. Just calm down. I don’t know how to be calm. All I can do is panic; they’re just going to hurt me again. Where are those pills for panic episodes? It says take one…but I feel like my world is ending and I won’t feel like this if I’m asleep. I’ll just take two. I wonder how many it would take for me to never feel like this again…

5:30pm

In bed. It’s so much darker than it was before. What time is it? 5:30pm. I just want to stay here forever…I haven’t done anything I was supposed to do. Nothing. Mom is going to be so mad; I’m just a useless lump at home that costs money and I’m too scared to even open my laptop and try to find a job. I don’t want her to yell; I hate that. I don’t want to screw up, I don’t want to be a failure. But if I stay in bed, I’ll be safe. I can’t get hurt if I’m in bed, under warm blankets.

6:15pm

Living room. I hate that I have to get out of bed to get food. I don’t want to eat; I can’t even finish this orange. My stomach hurts so much, I feel like I’m going to be sick. It sucks that I’m starving at the same time. Wait, that’s the garage door. Mom’s home. Crap, I haven’t done anything. She’s going to ask, she’s going to get mad, she’s going to yell. She’s coming up the stairs.”Hi sweetheart. How was your day?’ I can’t breathe, my vision blurs. I can’t do it, I can’t answer, she’s going to think I’m such a failure. “Sweetie, are you ok?” It’s coming, she’s going to yell because I fail to do anything right.

I can’t even check my email because all it shows is a number saying I’m a good-for-nothing failure. No one can help me, no one understands. I can’t even taking a damn shower without bursting into tears and streaking back to bed.

She’s using her sharp voice now: “Sweetie, what’s wrong? What’s going on?” I can’t do it. She’s going to yell, when she finds out I didn’t do anything; she’s going to call me out just like he did. In front of everyone watching, making sure I know just how little I’m worth; just let me have the illusion that I’m worth something for God’s sake! I know I’m a pathetic failure but let me pretend I’m someone worthwhile! Don’t yell at me, don’t – *He’s asking me a question about the homework.

I have no clue, I spent last night studying for last class’ test. “I didn’t do the reading.” He looks at me, unsurprised. “Well then, you aren’t prepared for class. Shouldn’t you leave so you don’t keep your classmates behind with your negligence?” I just sit and stare; I don’t know what to say. Am I even supposed to say anything? He looks at me and says, “I think any student who fails to complete the required homework shouldn’t be allowed to take a class where others’ work hard to learn; do you agree with that?”

I keep staring. Do I agree with that?

Of course not! Everyone said before he walked into class that none of us had done the reading; why is he singling me out? “You haven’t shown any inclination to put any effort into this class at all. I think that someone like you who only cares about finding a husband in college should drop my class. I only teach students who have something worthwhile to offer to the world, and you clearly need to learn a few lessons from them.”

My jaw drops, the tears well up. “Professor, I just- “What? I don’t need to hear your pathetic excuses! If you had done the work you might have had the chance to earn a B in my class; not many girls are willing to take a class this challenging and I think we can all see why from your poor example.” I start crying as I look around at my classmates; they’re all looking back at me silently. No one’s going to stand up to him, no one’s going to report him, not even the one other girl in the class. “I’m – I’m sorry…” “You’re disrupting this class. If you’re going to be this emotional you should drop this class and see a therapist. Although based on the effort you obviously put into the necessary work, you should drop this class anyway.”

I have to escape the yelling, I can’t sit here and be a target for all of this.

No one will help me, no one will believe me, just like with her… no one will ever help me. I can’t breathe, I’m literally choking as my tears fall in my mouth. He gets up and opens the door. I can’t go near him without knowing…there it is, he left his textbook on the table. He’s not holding it. If I run he won’t have time to hurt me. I get my backpack and run. I can’t ever see him again.

He’s right. I’m just a failure and it doesn’t matter how hard I try; I’ll never stop being a failure.* I start crying and shaking; I’m not safe. I can’t feel my legs, I can’t get somewhere safe. Mom is going to yell, she’s coming closer. God please help me, please dear God help me, I can’t have her yell at me, I can’t handle this, please God! She knows I didn’t get anything done today, she knows I’m a failure, she’s coming closer just to yell at me even louder, God protect me please! Mom comes over and sits next to me.

I’m shaking, I’m crying, I want to be strong but I just can’t, I can’t handle her disappointment. I’m in trouble, I need to be in bed, I’m not safe, I’m never safe where they can find me. She envelops me in a warm hug. “It’s ok sweetheart, it’s going to be ok.” I shake even more. “I love you.” I crack. Those words mean I’m not alone. They mean that those people can never hurt me again.

They mean that I’m finally safe.