The Lessons I’m Learning as I Build My Personal Brand
Then the freelance roller coaster dipped into oblivion (again), my contract gig wobbled like jello, and I realized that if I didn’t treat myself like the most important client on my list, my future income would always depend on someone else’s mood.

Humility, honesty, friendliness, and omnipresence, plus a few other hard‑won truths from the trenches of showing up online.
If you’d told me two years ago that I’d be writing thirteen-hundred‑plus words about my personal brand, I would have punched myself in the face and flipped a table.
“Personal brand” sounded like ego wrapped in corporate buzzwords, something better left to influencers with ring lights and discount codes.
Then the freelance roller coaster dipped into oblivion (again), my contract gig wobbled like jello, and I realized that if I didn’t treat myself like the most important client on my list, my future income would always depend on someone else’s mood.
So I jumped in — Medium essays, LinkedIn rants, X threads, a blog called The Second Act Letter, and a fledgling newsletter. I played with voice, visuals, AI tools, and more coffee than my cardiologist knew about or would sign off on.
In the chaos, eight core lessons bubbled to the surface. They’re less “marketing hacks” and more survival rules for creative humans who want their work to matter.
Below is what I’ve learned, minus the bulleted PowerPoint vibes. Think of it as one long campfire story, marshmallows optional.
1. Be Humble.
Back in 2018 I lobbed a LinkedIn post into the void about — brace yourself — why my writing was worth top dollar rates. The copy was tight, the logic impeccable, the vibe…
Pure smug.
Engagement flatlined.
I learned really quickly that everyone hates a blowhard, especially one that wasn’t even that good of a writer yet.
Humility, I learned, isn’t self‑deprecation; it’s leaving enough space for other people to bring their own greatness to the table.
Harvard Business Review even backs this up, noting that modest leaders score higher on competence and trustworthiness.
Nowadays, I showcase outcomes instead of adjectives. I brag about collaborators before I mention myself, and whenever I announce something big, I end with a question: “What would you add?”
Humility invites curiosity and engagement; arrogance slams the door and double‑bolts it.
2. Be Honest.
The 2024 Edelman Trust Barometer says 71 percent of people prefer to buy from (or work with) someone they perceive as truthful.
Translation: honesty still pays the bills.
I tested this by writing a Medium essay about my life-changing, almost-fatal suicide attempt in 2015. It was one of the worst times of my life, and the culmination of decades of unchecked mental illness. You might think that a revelation like that would be career-ending, but the opposite happened.
That piece became my top performer ever and tripled my followers on Medium.
Vulnerability isn’t oversharing, It’s not cringeworthy; it’s selective transparency that proves you live in the same messy, crazy universe as your readers.
When I’m experimenting, I label it an experiment. I publish a real number — email subs, revenue, rejection tallies — when they illuminate the story. And after every flop, I write a post‑mortem before the algorithm can forget my failure ever happened.
Oddly enough, people stick around when you act like a human instead of a highlight reel.
3. Be Friendly.
Buffer’s Social Media Report told me something my grandma already knew: people like you more when you talk back. Reply rate, not posting frequency, jives with follower growth.
I treat comment sections like living rooms. If someone drops by, I hand them a digital cup of coffee and ask how their day is going. Tagging mentors, name‑checking inspiration, and greeting readers by name in my newsletter: these little gestures turn strangers into teammates.
Engagement isn’t a tactic; it’s hospitality on the social media timeline.
I don’t do these things to be fake, I do them because I truly love people and want to engage with them. It’s one of the reasons I love LinkedIn so much, people on there expect to connect and if you don’t show up for real, you are nobody really quickly.
4. Be Everywhere.
Psychologists call it the Mere Exposure Effect: the more we bump into something, the more we start to like it. Marketers shorten that to the Rule of Seven.
I shorten it further: “Show up until people wonder if you cloned yourself.”
One of my big ideas now starts from a long‑form Medium essay to a LinkedIn series, then sprints through an X thread, and finally lands in my newsletter as a deeper dive. Two months of that relay race increased my LinkedIn followers by 200 without a dime spent on ads.
Most folks haunt just one or two platforms; let your ideas do the commuting.
And while I am still not haunting TikTok or YouTube, I try to be the places that my people would be, and right not I am doing well showing up there.
5. Be Consistent.
A Nielsen study says consistent brand presentation can spike revenue by 23 percent. Consistency isn’t a straitjacket; it’s a win-win situation.
I fought it for ages because I love changing aesthetics like T‑shirts. Eventually I locked in an rainbow palette and a conversational‑smart tone. Engagement ticked up, sure, but the real win was internal: no more changing fonts at midnight.
Constraints kill decision sludge, and decision sludge is kryptonite for progress. Right, Superman?
6. Be Useful.
Most people share content that makes them look clever. The Content Marketing Institute confirms practical value is the number‑one driver of social media shares.
I follow Jay Baer’s rule: make your marketing so useful people would pay for it.
Every post ends with an actionable nugget, a prompt, a question. And while I haven’t started advertising it beyond my LinkedIn services page, I offer coaching to frustrated creatives looking to start a second act in life. I plan to lean into this more as I build my brand
7. Be Curious.
Carol Dweck’s growth‑mindset research changed my feed to a lab notebook, where I can experiment freely.
When I dove into AI‑assisted writing, I shared my clunky prompts and awkward failures in real time. I shared how I was at first scared of AI, but started using it as a co-pilot and co-conspirator. It helped me build outlines and structure my voice.
That transparency attracted authorities and collab partners who handed me shortcuts on a silver platter. Curiosity about what I would do next turned content into a magnet for mentors, and kept my audience from dying of boredom.
8. Be Patient.
SparkToro’s data shows it takes 18 to 24 months of consistent posting to hit 5,000 engaged followers.
Most people quit at month six. I nearly joined them when my first six Medium pieces scraped together a whopping 100 views. Month seven delivered a 6.2k‑view surprise that still drives traffic today.
Patience isn’t passive; it’s the discipline of showing up when the stats look like an EKG for a hibernating bear.
I track 90‑day averages instead of daily spikes, celebrate how many posts I publish over follower counts, and keep a “win folder” of encouraging DMs for those inevitable flatline days when I feel like I am not going anywhere.
This is one of the most difficult things for me, because I like to see results fast. But deep-down I know that this is a marathon, not a sprint, and if I want to win, I have to be ready to wait.
Brand as a By‑Product of Being Human Online
I used to think personal branding was a glossy veneer I’d paste over my real self.
Turns out it’s a garden: messy, seasonal, occasionally full of weeds, but ultimately nourishing:
Humility keeps the soil fertile. Honesty keeps the water clean. Friendliness attracts pollinators. Omnipresence stretches the roots. Consistency shapes the rows. Usefulness feeds the neighbors. Curiosity plants new seeds. Patience waits for harvest.
If any of these lessons resonate, steal them. Break them. Remix them. The internet hates one‑size‑fits‑all formulas and loves people who show up, deliver value, and stay weird.