A year ago today, I hit publish on my first blog post.
No fancy launch. No polished strategy. Just me, sitting in my room, trying to make sense of my next move after losing a job that drained me. I was tired. Tired of being invisible. Tired of playing it safe. Tired of knowing I had more to give and not doing anything about it.
So I made a promise.
No matter what was going on, no matter the fear, the doubt, the “who do you think you are” voice, I would publish one blog post. Every Wednesday. No excuses. And I’ve been consistent as a result.
That single decision became the most important move I made for my brand, my clarity and my confidence.
Why I Started Blogging
I didn’t start blogging because I had all the answers. I started because I had none.
After losing my job in July 2024, everything felt uncertain. I knew I couldn’t keep waiting for someone else to “see my potential”. I had to see it for myself. I needed something to anchor me, something that was mine.
No gatekeepers.
No algorithms.
No performance.
Just my story, my thoughts and my name at the top of the page.
But truth is, I’ve always been a writer.
Long before personal branding, I was running a music blog. I got press passes. I interviewed artists. I was documenting culture and I loved it.
But when my nan passed away in the height of the pandemic, grief hit hard. Depression crept in. I stopped believing I had something worth saying. And in one of my lowest moments, I deleted the entire blog. Years of work. Gone in minutes.
That decision still stays with me.
I’ve never forgotten what it felt like to lose my voice, or how painful it is when your identity is tied to something you walk away from. Blogging again wasn’t just about visibility. It was about healing. It was about reclaiming that part of me that used to feel powerful behind the pen.
What Blogging Did for Me (and My Personal Brand)
Blogging didn’t just grow my audience. It grew my identity.
It sharpened my message. Gave shape to my thoughts. Helped me understand what I believe and why it matters. It turned invisible expertise into visible value – not with hype, but with honesty.
Here’s what shifted over the year:
- Visibility: My blog became a magnet. People found me from posts I forgot I wrote.
- Credibility: Saying “I wrote about that here” changed how people perceived my voice.
- Community: Readers became collaborators. DMs turned into real dialogue. I even had the opportunity to interview amazing purpose-led founders and experts I’ve met on the journey.
I stopped performing and started participating.
Five Lessons That Hit Different This Year
→ link to 6 Powerful Lessons From My Personal Branding Journey
1. Your truth is more valuable than your polish
Some of my best posts weren’t “clever”, they were just true. People feel that. Don’t hide behind strategy. Start with honesty.
2. Show up, even when it’s mid
Not every post will bang. Some weeks I posted tired, late or unsure. But I still posted. That rhythm built something more powerful than reach; it built trust.
3. Writing reveals what you actually think
Every blog helped me refine how I talk about what I do. Messaging gets clearer when you stop trying to make it “land” and just say what’s real.
4. This is a long game, build like it
You don’t need virality. You need volume. Depth. Repetition. Legacy. One post won’t change your life, but one year might.
5. You don’t need to be everywhere, just somewhere consistently
Blogging gave me a home base. Everything else, like LinkedIn, YouTube, Instagram or TikTok, will pull from that. One piece. Many doors.
If You’re on the Fence About Blogging or Creating Content
You don’t need a niche. Or a schedule. Or a strategy.
You need a reason.
If you’ve lost your voice, your job or your clarity, blogging or creating content might be the way back. Not because it’s trendy. But because it gives you space to practise being seen, without asking for permission.
The first post will feel awkward. The next one might feel pointless. But one day you’ll look back and realise: you weren’t just building a brand. You were rebuilding belief.
Here’s to what’s next.
Here’s to the next 52 Wednesdays.
And here’s to telling the story, even before it’s finished.
See you next week.
