
Write Like You’ve Been Through Something
Let’s be honest—most copy sounds the same.
You’ve seen it. Polished. Predictable. Safe.
It follows the formulas. It checks the boxes. It says all the “right” things.
But it doesn’t move you. It doesn’t stick. It doesn’t mean anything.
Because it’s not coming from somewhere real.
And in a world flooded with sameness, people are starving for something they can feel.
The best copy isn’t clean—it’s honest.
It’s not about finding the perfect angle. It’s about finding the truth.
The kind that lives in your chest, not your swipe file.
The kind you earn by living through something you didn’t think you’d survive.
When you write from that place? People don’t just read it—they feel it.
They pause.
They nod.
They whisper, “Damn… I thought I was the only one.”
That’s connection. That’s trust. That’s what makes words convert.
Stop writing like a marketer. Start writing like a human.
If you’ve ever said, “People buy based on emotion,” then why are you hiding yours?
Why are you smoothing out the edges? Why are you writing like a machine when the people you’re trying to reach are hurting, hoping, healing?
Your audience doesn’t want to be convinced. They want to be understood.
You do that by being willing to go first. By saying what they’ve felt but couldn’t explain. By being brave enough to show your mess—not just your methods.
Here’s the copy nobody else can write:
The kind that comes from your story.
The nights you couldn’t sleep. The debt you couldn’t pay. The failure that made you question who you were. The decision to try again anyway.
That story? That voice? That’s the edge.
And no one else can duplicate it.
The goal isn’t to sound like a pro. The goal is to sound like you.
There’s a reason the copywriters who make the biggest impact aren’t always the ones with the cleanest formatting or the most polished portfolio.
It’s because people don’t buy perfect. They buy personal.
When you show up with scars instead of scripts—when you write like someone who’s been humbled, not hyped—your words start carrying weight.
You stop sounding like a brand. You start sounding like a voice worth trusting.
Story sells—but not if you’re faking it.
Everyone’s telling you to “use story in your copy.” Cool. Great.
But here’s the thing: If the story isn’t rooted in truth, people will smell it a mile away.
A story is only powerful when it’s honest.
And that honesty doesn’t have to be dramatic. It just has to be real.
Write about the moment you almost quit. Write about the client that ghosted you. Write about the day the numbers didn’t come in—and what you learned from it.
That’s what people remember. That’s what people relate to.
Not the highlight reel. Not the “6-figure funnel” talk.
The real. The raw. The relatable.
So how do you actually write like you’ve been through something?
Here’s what I’d tell you:
Stop writing for approval. Write like you’re talking to one person who needs what you have. Not everyone. Not the algorithm. Them.
Tell the truth—even when it’s uncomfortable. Vulnerability isn’t weakness. It’s what makes your message believable.
Use your own language. If you wouldn’t say it out loud, don’t write it. Your voice is your advantage.
Focus on the shift—not just the solution. People buy transformation. Not features. Not deliverables. Write about who they’ll become.
Write from the scar—not the open wound. Share lessons from pain, but only once you’ve processed it. You don’t owe anyone your unhealed trauma.
Your pain can become someone else’s permission.
That’s what authentic copywriting is.
It’s not performative. It’s not perfect. It’s personal.
And it’s powerful.
So if you’re staring at a blank doc wondering what to say— Don’t start with what sounds good. Start with what’s true.
Because the world has enough copycats. It needs your voice.
Raw. Reflective. Real.
Write like you’ve been through something. Because you have. And that’s what makes you worth listening to.
Stay bold.
Stay honest.
Stay becoming.