Last autumn, Favoritepostcard.com quietly turned 13. No big celebration, just a quiet moment with family by my side, and a little thought: I’ve been doing this for a while now. Wow!
I recently decided to write more often on this blog. Not just about what’s new in the shop – but about the behind-the-scenes thoughts, the ups and downs, and the small, everyday moments that never make it into product descriptions. This feels like the right place to talk about feelings. Are you in?
What I’ve learned (and keep relearning):
- You can’t predict what people will love. Some of my most successful postcards were the ones I wasn’t sure about. The one I almost didn’t print? Sold out in a week. The one I adored? Still quietly waiting for attention.
- Kindness from customers still surprises me. Most people are incredibly kind – sometimes they leave thank-you notes in their orders that make me smile for hours.
- You can work with your heart – but you also need to protect it. I’ve learned to rest when I need to, even if that means ignoring my to-do list for a day. Ok, I am lying, as I don’t know how to rest.
- And most of all: nothing is guaranteed. But when I create something that feels right, I still get that same quiet spark I felt 13 years ago. There’s no magic formula. The only real advice I can give: keep showing up, keep making things you care about, and trust your instincts (even if they whisper instead of shout).
The hard parts (yes, they exist):
There are moments when orders slow down and everything feels too quiet. I start wondering – has everyone lost interest? Did I miss something? Is this the end of the postcard era?
I try something new – a fresh design, a new product idea – and suddenly it feels like no one wants anything unfamiliar. People reach for what they know, the old favorites, the classics. I get it. I do the same sometimes. But as a creator, that space between “I have a new idea” and “someone actually wants this” can be full of doubt.
Still, I keep creating. Not because it always works – but because it’s what I do.
What hasn’t changed:
- I still love postcards. Always will.
- I still pack orders myself. I still write thank-you notes by hand. Even on Mondays, when my to-do list is too long and my coffee is cold.
- I still collect postcards for myself. And yes, sometimes I quietly keep one copy of a favorite design – the last one – just for me. (Shh.)
Things that surprised me:
- How many of you feel the same way about paper, ink, and small joys.
- That after all these years, I still feel nervous before a big update.
- That even on the hard days, this work continues to feel meaningful.
- That Favoritepostcard would grow into more than a shop – it’s become a community of creative, generous, and slightly nostalgic souls. I didn’t expect that, but I’m so grateful for it.
- You don’t need to have a lot of followers on social media. I started before social media, to be honest. It is enough to reach a group of people who feels the same and likes what you do.
What I do differently now:
- I plan ahead more – not perfectly, but enough to feel a little less chaos. Not because I became a super-organized person (I didn’t), but because I’ve learned that good ideas need breathing space. Planning helps me give them that.
- I listen more to my gut than to trends. I allow myself to create designs that I personally enjoy, even if they’re not “trendy” or highly searchable. Some of them do surprisingly well. Some don’t. That’s okay.
- And I’m less afraid to share the real stuff – not just what’s going well, but what’s hard too. I share more of the behind-the-scenes, even when it feels a bit vulnerable. Because I’ve learned that people don’t just want products – they want stories, realness, and connection.
So here I am, still learning, still making, still hoping:
That someone will open a package from me and feel a little joy.
That a postcard will travel farther than we both imagined.
That a sticker will find its way onto a laptop or a notebook and feel just right.
Small things. Handwritten notes. A sticker that makes you smile. A message from someone saying, “This reminded me of my grandmother,” or “I sent this to my pen pal in Japan.” That’s what keeps me going.
Thank you for being here – whether you’ve been around since the beginning or just found your way to my little corner of the internet. I’m glad you’re here. And I still have many ideas I haven’t shared yet.
Thank you for being here – really. It means more than you know.
