Before I was a writer, I was a bartender. A bitter one.
Ok, but actually…
Once upon a time, there was a gal.
Let's call her Bitter Bartender.
Ok, fine, I was the bitter bartender.
I am the gal who found herself in a tiny-ass, rom-com-esque town in Northern Canada with literally nothing else to do beyond embracing the freaking call of the wild. (Seriously, I came back with 4 dogs.)
If I wrote it, I published it.
Because it's preeettyyy hard to bartend sans a bar to tend, I did what any self-respecting ex-book publishing student with too much time and a lot of feelings would do:
I started writing for the internet.
Every day. Pen to paper. Fingers to keyboard.
With only one rule:
Didn't matter if it was personal or half-formed or if Braden, the kitchen guy from that last job I worked, might think I was “cringe.”
If I wrote it, it went on the internet.
And do you know what I learned?
People are so afraid of saying the “wrong” thing, the “wrong” way, they're not saying anything at all.
But the more I shared, the more doors opened.
The more I wrote, the more I heard myself.
(Likkkkeee getting a WhatsApp message from a well-known content creator, asking you to be their copywriter. Propelling you to Google “what is copywriting” and then into a career you would still write about pages for it some 6 odd years later. Just as an example.)
The more I figured out how I think.
What I actually care about.
How I sound when I'm not trying to sound like someone else.
That was the start.
Now I help humans in that in-between, excavate their brand voice and messaging, then build systems that serve as the backbone of their brand world.
It all flows from that same foundational place.
And that's the place you'll find me.
Because when you know your voice, personality, and message like muscle memory, everything else gets easier to improvise. Website copy, offers, social posts, team onboarding....
