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There was a time—before taxes, mortgages, and the crushing realization that laundry never actually ends—when we were all walking, talking, unfiltered vibes.

Remember being a little kid?

Not knowing any better than to exist in a state of pure, unhinged confidence?

No second-guessing.

No overthinking.

No worrying about how you came across—because you were too busy seeing how many Goldfish crackers you could fit in your mouth to care.

If you’ve ever spent time around a 5 yr. old, you know exactly what I mean.

They walk into a room like they own the place, dressed like a dinosaur, roaring at strangers like it’s completely normal, and somehow, everyone just rolls with it. Confidence is a hell of a drug like that.

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And then we grow up.

And the world is like, “Whoa, whoa, WHOA. Simmer down. Be professional. Be serious. Be ‘appropriate.’”

So, we dim the weird.

We mute the quirks.

And trade in our 1st-grade-level “OMG GUESS WHAT?!” energy for “Dear valued customer” emails.

We stop saying the things we really want to say because someone, somewhere, might not like it.

We start writing like we’re applying for a job at a government agency that regulates spreadsheet distribution instead of like the flawed, hilarious, slightly feral humans we actually are.

And before we know it, we’re running businesses that feel like a mandatory corporate trust fall exercise, that no one but YOU showed up to.

Which is a goddamn shame, because the realest, weirdest, most YOU-things are the things that actually make people care.

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People aren’t craving perfection—they’re craving personality.

Your kindreds aren’t scrolling through social media saying to themselves:

💩 “I wasn’t sure at first, but, YUP, the strategic use of whitespace here really won me over.”

💩 “Wow, look at that subtle yet authoritative choice of sans-serif font. How do I book a call, brotha? I’m IN!”

💩 “Damn, I can’t believe I ever trusted a brand that didn’t use such a well-structured newsletter layout. This was when I knew they were the one for me.”

💩 “I can really tell they use a premium email provider. It’s so nice to have that kind of care taken. The fancy poll is what sold me.”

💩 “Oh hell yes, another perfectly curated flat lay of a coffee cup and MacBook. It screams ‘heart-centered.’”

💩 “Wow, the way their bio is formatted? Inspirational!”

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They’re looking for someone who makes them feel things—like heard, seen, understood, excited, inspired, entertained, you get the picture.

Someone who doesn’t make them wish they could go back in time + slap the ‘subscribe’ button right out of their own hand.

Someone who is so raw, real, and relatable that they can see themselves in them—in their stories, experiences, and circumstances.

They’re looking for YOU.

All 50 shades.

All the weird.

All the quirks.

All the dualities + contradictions.

All the exceptions to your rules.

All the still-figuring-this-shit-out’s.

The whole beautiful rainbow that is YOU.
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Your brand is basically a ‘missing person’ poster—have you seen this person(ality)?

Ever notice how the stuff you half-ass, overthink, or “play it safe” with gets crickets, but the ridiculous, off-the-cuff, “fuck it, let’s just post it” stuff gets all the engagement?

That’s because when you strip the personality out of what you create, you also strip out its ability to connect.

People don’t just buy from you because your offer is “valuable.” They buy because they feel like they know you. Because your words, your style, your stories, your humor, your everything makes them think, “Holy shit, I love this person.”

And that starts way before the sale.

It’s in the way you name things.

The way you title an email.

The way you write a post, reply to a comment, or introduce yourself on a sales page.

It’s in the details.

The flavor.

The moments where someone sees your words and knows—without a doubt—it’s YOU (they can see you + hear you so clearly).

So if your brand is blending in…

If your content could be copy-pasted onto someone else’s business and no one would notice…

We have a YOU-shaped hole to fill.

Let’s fix it.

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Your business needs a personal(ity) injection—here’s how to do it.

Dropping personality bombs doesn’t mean turning your business into a late night comedy show or trauma-dumping your deepest fears into your email marketing. (Although, if you’ve successfully monetized your quarter or midlife crisis, respect.)

It’s about weaving in the smallest, simplest pieces of YOU that make the biggest, realest difference to them (“them” being your kindreds).

Here are 10 fun, feel-good ways you can start dropping personality bombs that’ll make you fall in love with marketing, and your kindreds fall in love with YOU, the way kids fall in love with literally any random object they find on the ground.

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1. Stand on your oddly specific soapbox. Maybe you have big feelings about pineapple on pizza. Maybe you think anyone who uses the phrase ‘passive income’ should be forced to write their sales page on an Etch A Sketch. Whatever it is, own it. People remember main character energy.

2. Say it like you’d text it. If you wouldn’t say, “Maximize your ROI through strategic brand alignment” in a group chat with your friends, don’t say it in your business. (Unless your group chatting with a bunch of webinar hosts who spend 45 minutes talking about their ‘journey’ before getting to the fucking point… then, feed the animals.)

3. Let your references fly. If you grew up quoting The Office, throw a That’s what she said in there. If you still have emotional scars from Tamagotchis, use that. The people who get it will get it. The people who don’t? They weren’t your people anyway.

4. Create your own anti-mainstream traditions. “The Shit I Said I’d Do But Didn’t” Accountability Hour? Monthly Chaos Check-Ins? An annual “Most Ridiculous Business Expense I Justified” awards ceremony? Consistent weirdness = instant connection.

5. Show your weird. Got a thing for collecting miniature things? Low-key obsessed with Hallmark movies? Do you narrate everyday life like you’re a sports broadcaster? Inexplicably good at guessing the exact total at checkout before the cashier rings it up? Work your weird random shit in… that might be the exact thing that makes someone remember you.

6. Write like your besties/buddies are reading. The ones who know your life is a dumpster fire of unwashed laundry + unhinged Amazon purchases and love you anyway. No formalities. No overthinking. Just YOU.

7. Turn everyday nonsense into a metaphor. That time you got stuck in a group chat with the PTO moms—a metaphor for your worst client experience to date. That absurdly long Costco receipt—a perfect representation of your to-do list. Random life annoyances = instant content gold.

8. Tell a ridiculous story. (Like the time I wrote about the night from hell that’ll forever be known as Pukemaggedon.) People remember stories, especially weird, unexpected ones about real life.

9. Turn the filtration system off. Write like you talk after two drinks. A little louder, a little funnier, a little less polished, and a lot more interesting. If it sounds like something a template would say, delete it. If it sounds like something you’d scream across a Target to your best friend, keep it.

10. Make up names for things. Call your newsletter The Hot Dog Cart, your strategy The “YOU-shaped” Method, or your refund policy The “Don’t Be a D-bag” Clause. Ok, don’t do any of that because I already did… but you get the point. 😉 Naming shit = instant personality.

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The land of rebel-hearted barflies where I borrowed these ideas from.

Inside Brandishing YOU, there are 63 (maybe more by the time you read this) business misfits, corporate escape artists, audacious creators, and strategy anarchists figuring out how to sell their shit without sacrificing their health, happiness, and success.

We’re not here for the cookie-cutter crap. No “just follow this proven blueprint” BS. No mindset circle-jerks where everyone’s pretending they have their shit together. No desperate networking event energy where people are just waiting for their turn to pitch.

Our vibe: We hype the hell out of each other. We talk each other out of overcomplicated nonsense. We share our wins, our flops, and our “WTF even happened here” moments. We believe being yourself is just strategy with better stories.

We’re addicted to personality + progress, not perfection + performative professionalism, and we’re here for ALL of it:

the wild ideas, the questionable choices, the duct-taped launches, and the ‘screw it, let’s try it’ moments that somehow turn into confidence-boosting breakthroughs.

If you want a space where YOU are the strategy, where figuring it out as you go is the whole point, and where every face-plant is just an excuse to pop champagne and laugh about it later—pull up a barstool.

This is where the real healing happens.

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The solopreneur speakeasy where perfection’s overrated, progress is contagious, and the liquid courage is stiff enough to fuel your next fearless move. No fake smiles or empty promises—just a bunch of rebels, parents, partners, and dreamers like YOU, building fun, feel-good businesses that support fun, feel-good lives.

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To being a little louder. A little weirder. A little more. Because trust me—no one needs another person in their feed, inbox, or ear who has the personality of a tax form.

Drop them bombs, baby! That’s where fun + feel-good breeds.

Dre ‘Personality So Loud It Should Come With a Warning’ Beltrami

P.S. If you weren't allergic to the reply button, what do you think you would want to tell me about what "being yourself" has felt like so far on the internet?

If only that button didn't fling you into anaphylactic shock. The convos would be legendary.

Maybe we'll run into each other at the grocery store. 🤷‍♀️