I have spent years writing for other people.
I’ve written product descriptions that made handbags or leopard print tops sound irresistible. I’ve written marketing emails designed to sell people a 3 year software plan. I’ve written website copy, blogs, campaigns, social posts and enough headlines to last several lifetimes.
Writing has always been the easy part.
Until I had to write about myself.
At first, I assumed my About page would be the simplest page on my website. After all, who knows me better than me?
As it turns out, that’s exactly the problem.
When you’re writing about someone else, the objective is clear. Your job is to understand who they are, what they do, and why anyone should care.
When you’re writing about yourself, you’re simultaneously the client, the writer, the editor and the critic. Every word sounds either wildly arrogant or painfully underwhelming.
There appears to be no middle ground.
Why does everything sound so pretentious?
I started with the obvious.
“I’m a freelance writer.”
Simple. Accurate. Honest.
Unfortunately, it also sounded a bit like I’d run out of things to say.
So I expanded it.
“I help brands connect with their audiences through strategic content.”
Now I sounded like someone who says “circle back” in meetings.
Then came:
“Storyteller.”
“Content specialist.”
“Brand voice expert.”
“Creative strategist.”
Each new title made me sound increasingly impressive and increasingly unlike myself.
At one point, I genuinely couldn’t tell whether I was writing an About page or accepting an industry award.
The strange thing is that all of these descriptions were technically true. The problem was reading them back and wondering who this accomplished, multi-talented professional was and whether she’d like to explain herself.
The fine line between confidence and delusion
Writing about yourself requires a skill I don’t think anyone warns freelancers about.
You have to convince people you’re good at what you do without sounding like you’ve nominated yourself for a Nobel Prize.
Too much confidence and you sound insufferable. Too little confidence and people wonder why they should hire you at all. It’s a delicate balance.
Clients don’t want to hear that you’re “fairly decent at writing when circumstances allow.” They want reassurance. They want expertise. They want to know you’ve done this before.
Unfortunately, most of us would rather walk barefoot across Lego than openly discuss our achievements.
So instead, we spend hours rewriting perfectly reasonable sentences because they make us uncomfortable.
Who is this person?
The most alarming part of writing an About page is reading it back.
According to various drafts of mine, I am:
- A strategic thinker
- A creative problem solver
- A results-driven professional
- A storyteller
- A brand builder
According to reality, I recently spent ten minutes looking for my glasses while wearing them.
The disconnect can be quite jarring.
Professional bios have a way of turning ordinary people into polished, impossibly competent versions of themselves. And yet, when a potential client lands on your website, they aren’t looking for a list of your flaws. They’re looking for evidence that you know what you’re doing.
So the challenge becomes finding a version of yourself that’s both credible and recognisable.
The part nobody tells you
Eventually, after countless rewrites, I realised something.
An About page isn’t really about you.
Not entirely.
It’s about helping potential clients understand whether you’re the right person to solve their problem.
Yes, your experience matters.
Yes, your achievements matter.
But what people are really looking for is a reason to trust you.
They’re trying to answer a simple question:
“Can this person help me?”
Once I understood that, the process became a little easier.
Not easy. Let’s not get carried away. But easier.
So, who am I?
After all the overthinking, deleting, rewriting and many existential crises, I’ve come to the conclusion that the best About pages are the ones that sound like a real person.
So here’s the truth.
I’m a writer.
I love helping businesses find the right words.
I’ve spent years creating content that informs, persuades and occasionally sells things people didn’t know they wanted.
I’m endlessly fascinated by what makes people pay attention.
And despite writing for a living, I still find writing about myself incredibly awkward.
