So I used to look at my blog analytics as holding the secrets of the universe. Two views. that’s it. Two people read my last post about mindfulness and career transitions.
I knew exactly who they were. One was definitely my mom (comment on how proud she was) and the other was probably my mate, who I linked to after a few beers.
It wasn’t quite the viral sensation I imagined when I hit the publish button, was it?
If you’re reading this, you’ve probably been there. Maybe you’re there now, wondering if your readership can fit into a Mini Cooper, and if it’s worth continuing. Believe me, I understand. The early days of blogging can feel like shouting into space, but space sometimes texts you to let you know you forgot a comma.
But here’s what I’ve learned after years of writing: these two readers could be the best thing that ever happened to your blog.
Why small beginnings are actually a gift?
Think about it. When you write for two people (even if one of them changes your diaper), you have the perfect testing ground. No pressure, no judgment from strangers, just finding your own voice.
I remember those first posts where I was trying to sound like some academic professor, speaking jargon like confetti. My mom’s confused emoji responses taught me more about writing clearly than any course ever could. When your readership is small, every review is gold.
Plus, there’s something liberating about writing when no one is really looking. You can experiment, make mistakes, find your rhythm. It’s like learning to dance in the bedroom before going to the club. Sure, the audience is just a reflection of you, and maybe your cat, but you’re still acting.
Accept the awkwardness of family readers
Let’s address the elephant in the room: having your family read your work can be weird. It’s really weird.
You want to be authentic and share real experiences, but you also know your mom will read about that time you had an existential crisis at the supermarket. Or your sibling will take a screenshot of that sensitive post and send it to a family group chat with a smiley emoji.
But here’s a secret: Gracia Kleinjen puts it perfectly: “They don’t need to know everything, and they probably care less than you think.”
Your family has already seen you at your worst (remember that haircut in high school?). A blog post about fertility tips won’t shock them. If you’re worried about oversharing, remember that you’re in control of the story. You decide which stories to tell and how deep you go.
Make these two readers your secret weapon
Instead of seeing your small readership as a failure, flip the script. These two loyal readers? They’re your focus group, cheerleaders, and reality check all rolled into one.
Ask them questions. What did they think of your last post? Did something go wrong? What would they like to read about next? In those early days, my mother’s opinion was surprisingly insightful. He would point out when I was being pretentious or when a metaphor didn’t land.
What about a friend who reads your stuff? They are probably more honest than a hundred anonymous readers. They’ll let you know when you’re bored, when you’re bright, and when you’re working too hard.
Use this time to experiment with different themes and styles. Write that weird post about how Buddhism relates to cooking. Share a story about failing spectacularly at something. With only two readers, the stakes are very low.
Focus on craftsmanship, not numbers
Here’s something no one tells you: writing for two forces you to focus on what’s really important—getting better at writing.
When you’re not chasing analytics, SEO, or going viral, you can focus on crafting sentences that read, finding your unique voice, and enjoying the process. Some of my best writing came from this period when I wasn’t trying to impress anyone but my mother.
I began to treat writing as a daily discipline, showing when I was inspired. Some days I would write about the big philosophical concepts I was exploring. Other days I would document a simple observation from my morning run. Sequence was more important than subject.
In my book Hidden Secrets of Buddhism: How to Live with Maximum Impact and Minimum EgoI’m talking about the importance of moving away from consequences. This principle applies perfectly to blogging. Write because you love to write, not because you’re chasing numbers.
Build momentum through consistency
You know what’s more impressive than having thousands of readers? It only appears consistently when there are two of you.
Set a schedule and stick to it. Maybe once a week, maybe three times. It doesn’t matter. The important thing is to keep posting, keep improving, keep moving forward, even when you feel like no one is listening.
This sequence does two things. First, it develops your skills faster than any course or workshop. Second, it creates collaboration. When new readers eventually find you (and they will), they’ll have a wealth of content to explore. They will see someone who doesn’t give up when the going gets tough.
Remember why you started
Take a moment and think about why you started blogging in the first place. Was it really for fame and fortune? Or was it something else?
Maybe you want to share your ideas, help people, or just be creative. Maybe you just needed a place to process your thoughts or document your journey. None of these reasons require a mass audience.
Some of the most meaningful connections I’ve made through writing have come from the first posts that almost everyone reads. A reader reported a piece about mindfulness that helped them through a difficult time. Another shared how a career post gave them the courage to make a change. This interaction means more than any viral post.
Last words
So you have two readers of your blog and one of them gave birth to you. So what?
Every successful blogger started right where you are now. They all had their first post that no one read, awkward stages where they didn’t know what they were doing, moments of doubt about whether it was worth continuing.
The difference between those who make it and those who don’t isn’t talent or luck, but rather having a large audience from day one. He shows up when it’s hard, writes when no one reads, and finds joy in the process itself.
Your two readers are enough. They are enough to teach, motivate and hold you accountable. They are enough to help you find your voice and boost your confidence. They are enough to start building something meaningful.
And hey, at least you’re making your mom proud. That has to count for something, right?
Keep writing. Keep showing up. The rest will follow.
