Welcome to Issue 50 of A Good Reputation, a newsletter about how to become a better storyteller to grow your brand. (Did someone send you? Subscribe here.)

Hello Reader,

My heart broke a little when I noticed my daughter noticing others noticing her.

She was toddling around the house singing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star when her dad and I stopped to listen.

To us, it didn’t matter that she was off-key and singing with such a thick lisp that it was hard to understand the words. At two and a half, she didn’t notice these things about herself—nor did she let them hold her back.

But she did notice when we started paying attention. And, perhaps determined to keep it, added a little flair by twirling around in her tutu for the grand finale.

Naturally, we smiled and clapped and moved around in our chairs—signals to her that she was doing something right. So she twirled again. And then again and again and again, until she was so dizzy that she crashed to the floor.

Her singing was no longer just for her. It was now for us, and she was putting on her best performance.

A Good Reframe

We all respond—and then adjust—to positive signals from our audience. We have to.

After all, a lot of what we’re performing is for them. And if our goal is to connect with people who might benefit from what we’re offering, we need to demonstrate that we're paying attention to what they care about.

But, like the purity of the performance that got me listening to my daughter that day, what first draws people in isn’t the thing you're responding to. It's that magnetic energy that comes from simply being yourself.

This is where the tension of building a brand online begins.

While creating is a collaborative process, at some point, we feel a pull between creating what’s true to us and creating what earns approval from others.

Because while publishing online gives us instant feedback loops, it also makes it dangerously easy to lose ourselves—often without even realizing it’s happening.

For some, it happens quickly. The dopamine hit of viral validation just feels too good.

But for most of us, the process of shaping ourselves into versions of who the world wants us to be or expects to see is more subtle and slow. And the more we perform for others, the harder it is to hear ourselves.

If we want to build something lasting—something that doesn’t eventually become indistinguishable from everything else trending on the feed—we have to find ways to stay rooted in our own voice.

For me, it starts with a practice of creating without caring about the outcome or the audience.

A Good Exercise

Last month, I started a freeform writing class and daily writing practice that has been extraordinarily helpful in striking that balance between maintaining my voice and shaping it for the people I'm trying to reach.

The structure of the class is pretty straightforward: You get 15 minutes to write whatever comes to mind from a single prompt.

There’s no editing allowed. And we’re discouraged from thinking or scratching anything out. Just pen to paper, hand moving without stopping, until the timer goes off.

Then we read whatever we’ve written aloud—safe in the comfort that the only feedback we can give or receive is noticing what worked.

What this practice has given me—in addition to squashing any writer’s block—is confidence. Confidence to bypass the inner critic and remind myself that what I have is good enough. Sometimes even better than good. But most importantly, it's honest.

In addition to that, it's given me insight into what’s really on my mind when I’m not worried about what I need to create for other people. It’s revealed what I’m truly struggling with or focused on that might need more attention or problem-solving.

There’s a science to this. Author and professor of writing Peter Elbow said that freewriting helps surface raw, useful material you didn’t even know was in you. He even conducted a study that found students who practiced freewriting regularly generated original ideas more fluently and more independently than those who didn’t.

I’ve started doing the exercise on my own outside of class. Every day, first thing in the morning, I do fifteen minutes of writing without stopping, deleting, or polishing.

Later, I set aside time to reflect on what surfaced and what might matter not just to me, but to the people I’m trying to reach. Sometimes I get nuggets of inspiration for social posts or this newsletter. And sometimes I just get a space for reflection.

Whatever comes out on the page doesn’t matter, because it’s just for me. And sometimes it’s relevant enough for you.

A Good Takeaway

At dinner last night, my boyfriend Tyler, an artist and elementary school art teacher of nearly 20 years, put it pretty bluntly: “You can’t just be the artist,” he said. “You also have to be the ho. It’s a fine line, you know?”

Not very poetic, but true.

If you only create for yourself, it’s hard to sell anything. But if you only create for what sells, you’ll lose yourself to your audience and blend into the crowd.

Like becoming a better storyteller, finding your voice, and sourcing original ideas is a practice. And it's one you can do on your own or in a collaborative setting.

If you want to go deeper on this with me and tap into the magnetic energy that comes from being yourself, this is just one of the many exercises we'll be doing in my short-form storytelling for brand-building cohort next month.

We'll work on finding your voice and unique perspective so that you can keep singing for yourself first before you get lost in performing for whoever's leaning in.

A Few Good Resources

1. ​This is an excellent example of short-form storytelling. By sharing an embarrassing mistake, Stacy manages to demonstrate her expertise and her humanity.
2. If you're fed up with social media, here are 100 ways to share your work without it.

Hope you have a good one,
Renee