Three lies you’re telling yourself about showing personality in your copy

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How many lies do you think you tell yourself everyday?

If you’re like me and your brain is a negative, troublemaking hairy-clam goblin, it’s probably upwards of 100.

I lie about what I’m good at. What I’m not so good at. What I want to eat. What I want to do. What I should be doing. (I’ll spare you the deeper, darker lies ‘cuz this ain’t no psych blog. Much as I would LOVE that…)

So I’d bet the farm and all the cows and pigs and sheep and definitely the goats you’re also lying to yourself.

And, if you’re like a lot of my clients, one of the things you’re being a little less than forthcoming about is showing some personality in your writing. Specifically, WHY you aren’t doing it or can’t do it.

Let’s have a look see, shall we, Fibonacci? (That all rhymed. Fibonacci has nothing to do with this. Except “fib” is in his name, and it was too appropriate.)

Lie #1: You’re not funny

One of the first hesitations I hear from personality seekers is that they’re not funny. No one laughs at their jokes. They don’t know how to tell a joke. Hell, they don’t even know how to laugh.

But what is funny? I’m not asking what you think is actually funny. I’m asking what funny actually means. It’s really as simple as being amusing. 

You see, funny is subjective. How else do you explain people laughing uproariously over all those spoof movies while others get more entertainment out of leaving scathing reviews of them?

What’s funny to me isn’t always funny to you.

You don’t have to be a trained, studied, storied comedian with a mental Blackberry of jokes you know will land every single time. Besides, being funny in writing is pretty damn difficult.

You’re not aiming for funny. You’re just using not being funny as an excuse. 

Lie #2: You don’t have a personality

Boy, if I had a spoonful of peanut butter for every time I’d heard this excuse, I’d probably have eaten about 94,751,368 calories by now. (Don’t try to do the math on that one.) 

Here’s the thing: The mere fact that you’re a living, breathing humanoid means you have a personality. So that single-sentence-ly (as opposed to singlehandedly) negates that argument.

We’ve been taught that personality (the traits that make you you) is only good or positive things. We say bullshit things like, “He’s got a great personality.”

Why? Because he’s got characteristics randomly assigned “good” or “desirable?” Oh, because he’s charming, articulate, and book smart?


Even if you fall on the other end of that spectrum – let’s say you’re awkward (oh, hi, me too), frequently tongue-tied, and gullible – that’s your personality. 

It’s all about bringing those elements of your personality into your writing in a way that’s engaging and attractive to readers. Which might mean you don’t include your filler words, like umm, uhh, ahhh, errr, so, you know, like…) in your writing. (Although I do totally think some of them have their place, you know?) But it might mean sharing your awkward moments, making you endearing and likable.

Lie #3: It doesn’t make a difference in your sales

Okay, here’s a scenario. I know you know where I’m going with this one, but just indulge me. Like I’ve indulged those 94,751,566 PB calories. (What?! I had a snack while I was writing. Like you never get hungry thinking about peanut butter. Jeez on crackers.) 

You’re in the market for a personal stylist. You’ve recently Marie Kondo-ed the shit outta your closet and now you want to start fresh, building a curated closet of clothes you love and that will always spark copious amounts of joy.


You’ve narrowed the search down to two equally competent stylists. You’re scrolling through their websites (again), and you realize that – although they have very similar personal styles – one of them always wears the same shoes. The other one? It’s like she’s expressing her personality and telling a story through her choice of fancy footwear. Leopard and stripes and dots and camo and beads and piping and bows.

And the shoes sell you.

The shoes were a distinguishing characteristic. When comparing stylists to stylists, like one compares apples to apples, you resonated with the shoes. And you booked her.

Now swap in your personality for shoes and you see what I’m saying, yes?

When someone is deciding between you and someone else, your personality could be the deciding factor. Makes sense to put it on display if you wanna make bank.

Bringing your personality into your writing isn’t always easy. Which is why I created Templates with Personality. It’s a quick win to show you how much fun bringing a little more pizzazz into your writing can be. Grab the templates here and start sending emails that make you sound competent but never boring. 

Tracie Kendziorawriting, business