The values of writing to myself

Sara Napier Burkhard

Published in

Writers Guild

7 min readMar 11, 2019

Why does writing personal content to a target audience make me feel so icky and what can I do about it?

I’ve been a professional copywriter for a decade now.

I’ve worked on staff with agencies, startups, and corporations. And I’ve fallen in love with a myriad of incredible clients as a freelancer.

In that decade, I’ve learned to tell a story of travel and adventure. I’ve crafted a narrative of empowerment through education. I’ve deconstructed and rebuilt content strategies from the ground up. I’ve stayed current with trends, creative expression, and the narratives following key communities. I’ve learned to walk a tightrope between documented analytics and unpredictable creativity.

The people I’ve worked with and remained connected to are the greatest treasure of my career thus far. All in all, I’m immensely proud of what I’ve helped create in the last 10 years of my life.

But that’s something that you might not expect of me.

Because I am a full-blown disaster when it comes to marketing myself.

Seriously, if you Google me you’re going to find a trail of half-finished blogging projects, dotted by the occasional reputable publication. Some stuff about travel, maybe a meaty piece on theology or technology, and an otherwise scattered web presence that doesn’t say very much in particular.

But mostly, I hope you won’t find much about me at all.

Because even though I love to write identifying pieces for companies and clients that help gain followers, attract wider audiences, and get my team the ROI we’re after — I have some sort of an aversion to doing the same personally.

And it’s not that I don’t know how to put it all together.

I read the Niklas Göke’s of the world, have Seth Godin’s books, subscribe to Hubspot’s content, I click anything with Neil Patel’s name (or face) on it, and I will never shut up about the fact that Marie Forleo is the queen 👑.

So how come my web presence is the online version of the half-eaten donut left in the box by your coworker who wanted “just a little treat”?

Yeah, I know I’m a little stale. You know there was more there before, but no you don’t get to have the whole thing. And I’ve probably got raspberry jelly sticking out. It’s gross and weird. Better to just throw out the box.

Sorry, I need to steer this ship again because I’ve noticed too much written self-depreciation doesn’t test well with readers. Don’t worry guys, I love myself. And that’s actually my point.

When I look at my platforms I often come back to the same question:

Why does writing what should be my personal, self-identifying content to a target audience make me feel so icky?

I’m not so cozy with the idea of putting myself out there. It’s a hard reality that I am constantly struggling with. I see other people who have the same job I do who are so much better at presenting themselves, promoting themselves, and growing their followership to numbers I’ve never seen before.

But to me, that concept feels a bit daunting.

I’m sometimes overwhelmed just by the high volume of my work emails and notifications flying at me in a day. To imagine managing comments and messages on five more platforms makes me a little itchy and uncomfortable. Especially when I imagine not having a company’s identity to hide behind.

I just don’t feel comfortable marketing myself to others.

But I know I have to do it. We all do.

Especially today when we’re asked to have an elevator pitch, keep our portfolios interview-ready, and present the nicest versions of ourselves through carefully curated imagery and witty bylines.

And it’s not that I hate this concept when I see it applied. As I watch others do it for themselves, I’m happy about it. I’m over here like:

A well-written ‘about’ section, a beautifully curated Instagram, a clever Tweet— they’re pure poetry when done well.

And like poetry makes me look at the poet in a new light (or at all), so can a beautiful online presence.

So what do I do about it?

The answer is as simple as the question. If your problem is branding yourself and sharing it with the world, you need to think about what that “brand” would entail in the first place.

Sit down to think about who you are and what you want out of your life. Then write it down, edit it into beautiful little nuggets, and share it with the world.

Easier said than done, but here are three things that are helping me get over this fear.

1. Think more about the story being told and less about who might see it.

One of the first tricks of the trade I teach my team is to be a writer first and an editor second. You shouldn’t edit until you’re sure you’ve finished writing. You shouldn’t send it into the world until you’re sure you’ve finished editing it.

The editor’s eye is meant to be all-seeing, all-knowing, and somewhat unforgiving. If you’re writing a piece with that lens on, every word will be open to criticism. The whole piece will be terrible if you’re even feeling confident enough to finish it at all.

But when you write for yourself first, you focus on the story you’re telling. You allow your thoughts to be untethered, you can feel what you want to say. You get the purest version of the message out there in the end.

A similar concept applies when it comes to writing something for a specific audience. You know who you want to talk to. And you have an idea of what you’d like to say. Now say it. And don’t think so much about who’s reading it until you’re sure you’ve finished saying what you mean to.

2. Refine your elevator pitch. Then put it online.

Having your elevator pitch ready is crucial. If you’re not sure how to craft your pitch or you’re feeling too shy, I’ll write some tips about that sometime. But for now, the best advice I can give is to start by thinking about how you’d talk about yourself at a party.

When someone is asking you what you do, you probably don’t think to respond the same way you would in an interview. You try to talk to the person and you probably understand that they’re really just trying to find talking points, commonality, and reasons to keep the conversation going with you. In the end, you might find a strong relationship with someone.

The goal here is the same. You want them to find the reason to keep engaging in a conversation with you. You want to invite them to take the next step.

3. Skip the charade

Personally, my goal this year is to try to brand myself better. I know that sounds a bit like I’m betraying everything I said at the beginning of this piece. But who says your brand has to test well with the widest audience possible?

You can’t be all stale jelly donut all the time if you want someone to pick you, but you don’t have to reinvent the pastry completely.

If I’m a jelly donut, I don’t have to try to sell myself as a New York-style cheesecake. All that does is set the consumer up for disappointment and creates an impossible standard for myself that I can’t really live up to.

I like my self-deprecating jokes. They are a part of who I am and how I communicate with the world. Why would I hide them when I’m trying to show you an online representation of myself?

I love a good emoji. Maybe it makes me look like a pre-teen who just got her first smartphone but I love a good 😊, ✨, or 😩 where appropriate (And let’s be really real, it’s not like you’re coming to my Medium article to get your fill of academic-style writing.)

I love writing for myself. Enough to have fun with the content I’m sending out into the world and enough to keep approaching it holistically.

As much as I love to consume it, I know I’m not the perfect cheesecake. And that’s okay.

And it’s high time I stop thinking I need to brand myself like that’s what I’m supposed to be.

It’s time to open myself up to a new experience. Being unflinchingly, authentically me. And allowing myself to stand in the light instead of behind the doors of someone else’s company.

Sara is an American writer living in Zürich, Switzerland. In her spare time, she likes playing music, games, and her husband’s last nerve.