So this is the one where we talk shit about frameworks, formulas, and best practices.
They’re inherently bad. But I’ve also got beef with what these things turn into when we stop questioning them.
I’ve seen it over and over again — smart, wildly capable, creatively magical humans get completely stuck trying to write for their business because they’re so focused on doing it “right” that they forget they’re actually allowed to do it their way.
And listen, I don’t hate best practices. I really don’t.
But I also don’t think they should be your boss.
There are enough blog posts and Instagram carousels about frameworks and formulas already. If you want one, I can send you three.
But that’s not what this episode is for.
This episode is about the moment before the framework.
The instinct before you start editing.
The version of the idea that showed up in your brain before your self-doubt took over.
Because what I really want for you is to start building trust in yourself again.
In your voice. In your brain. In your ability to say the thing — without always looking over your shoulder wondering if you’re saying it the “right” way.
WHY “SHOULD” AND “NEED” MAKE ME BREAK OUT IN RASHES
If there’s one thing I’ve learned from six years of writing for brands and for myself, it’s this:
The words “should” and “need” are creativity killers.
And I think I might be allergic to them. Like, full-body cringe when I hear them.
And I’m not saying the people who use those words are trying to manipulate you. Well, not all of them.
But I am saying: I want you to notice them. Should and need I mean.
“You should write your sales page like this.”
“You need to lead with the pain point.”
“You need a signature framework if you want to scale.”
Ugh.
And then I want you to ask yourself:
Is that true? Do I actually need this?
Or is there another way I want to do this?
Because there is always another way. There is absolutely NO ONE WAY TO DO ANYTHING.
Just because someone hasn’t done it the way youre thinking yet doesn’t mean you can’t.
And the truth is?
No one actually knows what’s going to work.
I have a literal folder full of examples of million-dollar brands and world-known creative ideas that started from a “huh, what if…” moment.
There’s no way to predict what will hit.
And yet, we all absorb this messaging that if we don’t follow the formula to the letter, we’re doing it wrong.
Or we’re not cut out for this.
Or we’re not “strategic.”
But strategy ≠ rigidity.
And structure ≠ success.
So let’s talk about where frameworks actually do help — and where they start to hold you back.
WHERE FRAMEWORKS GO RIGHT (AND WHERE THEY LOSE THE PLOT)
Because, again, I don’t think frameworks are evil.
I think they’re useful — to a point.
Frameworks, formulas, best practices — they can absolutely help.
They give you structure when you’re shaping something.
They help you edit. They help you sharpen.
They help you make something clearer.
But they’re not where the idea should begin.
When we start with the template in mind —
when we draft the thing with the formula already baked in — we lose the spark that made us want to create it in the first place.
You know that moment where you go,
“Oh my god, that’s such a good idea”?
Yeah. That one.
The second you try to shove it into a 5-step formula or some rigid swipe file, it starts to flatten.
The magic starts to leak out.
And I get it.
Formulas and templates feel safe.
They feel like something you can lean on.
They feel like proof that you’re doing it right.
But in my experience?
That confidence you’re chasing doesn’t come from copying a format.
It comes from knowing what you actually want to say — and trusting yourself enough to say it.
And then PRACTICING saying it.
So here’s my actual suggestion:
Whatever you’re creating — a piece of content, a sales page, an offer —
write the first version your way.
The way it came into your head.
The version your brain got excited about.
Then — and only then — bring in the frameworks.
Bring in the copywriter.
Bring in the best practices and formatting tricks and SEO tools and editing brain.
Let them help you refine it.
But don’t let them take the lead.
Because that A+ student in your head?
The one trying so hard to “get it right”?
They’re not wrong for wanting clarity.
But they can’t be the boss of your creativity.
Start with the thing that feels electric.
Then shape it into something strategic.
And then if you decide you want a 5-part proprietary triangle or to throw an acronym
You don’t need to shove your process into a neat little acronym unless that actually feels fun to you.
Let’s be honest.
Most of us aren’t following “best practices” because we love them.
We’re following them because we’re low-key afraid we’ll get it wrong if we don’t.
So instead of giving you another #winning formula, I’m gonna offer you this instead…
I’ve got a dare for you.
I double dog dare you, friend.
To put the template, the framework, the formula down.
To start catching the moments where you pull back.
Where you edit mid “hey, what if we…” thought.
Where you hesitate.
Not because the idea’s not good, but because you’re already wondering how it’ll land.
How would so-and-so say it?
Am I following the best format?
Is this line too much?
I double dog dare you to not do the “right” thing.
Because the right thing — the template thing — is tempting.
It promises:
“5 steps to 7x your conversions.”
“Plug-and-play your next launch.”
“This is how successful brands speak.”
But let’s be real: it doesn’t do what you need it to do.
It doesn’t pull people in.
It doesn’t sound like you when you’re actually pumped.
And it doesn’t build the kind of brand you keep saying you want.
I don’t care how “optimized” it is if you’re dreading writing it and scared to hit publish.
Because that’s what makes brilliant, intuitive people…
…second-guess every sentence.
…water down their weirdest (aka best) ideas.
…ditch stories that don’t “convert” fast enough.
So yeah. Let’s not do the “right” thing.
Let’s do the interesting thing.
The “why the hell not” thing.
The version you’d actually want to read.
The one that only you could’ve written.
Not to prove a point.
But because the second you stop doing what you think you should…you start creating things only you could.
And that?
That’s the good stuff.
That’s what builds brand worlds people care about.
Because you trusted yourself enough to follow it.
And ask yourself…
THE QUESTION I WANT YOU TO SIT WITH
If you weren’t worried you’d do it wrong —
If you didn’t believe there was a wrong way —
How would you write that homepage?
How would you start that sales page?
What would you lead with?
What would you say first?
What would you skip entirely?
How would you explain your offer?
How would you describe what you do?
What would you put where?
Start there.
Seriously — start there.
You can bring the frameworks in later.
You can ask for feedback from a copywriter who’s memorized the “best practices” and “rules”.
We’re waiting in the wings ready to help.
But let yourself start with the version your brain wrote before the fear gremlin tried to marketingify it.
Because thats when you start actually having fun with this stuff, and let’s be real:
If you’re not having at least a little fun in your business…what’s the actual fucking point?
