I began reaching out to local businesses, and slowly built a portfolio of work that I was proud of.
A whole lot of “fake it till you make it”, some very crappy underpaid jobs, and a few psychotic briefs later (no joke, was once asked if I could find a sexier word for “presale”) I’m ready to take on my best project yet…
When I discovered copywriting, I genuinely thought I’d fallen into some kind of cult, where everyone had the answer if you just bought their course or signed up to their newsletter.
Everyone seemed to be making £10K every time they blinked with no experience, no degree, and 3 prompts on ChatGPT.
I didn’t trust it by a mile, but I was so fascinated by the idea that I could do the thing I loved and was good at, without the “starving artist” label, that I thought I didn’t have much to lose.
I fumbled my way through my degree, hoping that something would suddenly click and everything would fall into place.
Spoiler alert: it didn’t.
I wrote poetry and essays and although for the most part I enjoyed it, I felt different to my peers, who were destined to be poets-in-residence and use words like ‘unequivocally’ in full sincerity.
I graduated from my panic Master’s mid-pandemic, grabbed myself a cheeky autism diagnosis in the meantime (which… explained a lot) and 2 years on, I decided something had to give.
I honestly stumbled into copywriting. I was working in a little Mancunian nugget of alt history known as Affleck’s Palace, selling marvellously obscene t-shirts and wishing the general public would gain basic comprehension skills (although not much has changed on that last part).
I’d done the “sensible” thing of going to uni, both to the delight and concern of my family. I was the first in the family to do so, and English with Creative Writing was certainly… a choice to them.
I became overrun with questions of if I’d become:
a) a teacher, or
b) an author (“like J.K. Rowling!” 🙄)
Naturally, as I tend to do, I chose the secret third thing, but it wasn't an easy road.
Let me start from the beginning…
My mother was an em dash and my father was 15 open tabs for synonyms—
Oh, not that far back. Gotcha. Let’s start that again, shall we?
As an adult-diagnosed autistic woman, I value accessibility in everything I do, and am more than happy to adjust our working style to benefit us both.
Whether that means cameras off during calls, sending voice notes instead of meetings, or giving very clear feedback, I always want you to feel as comfortable voicing what you need!
As an adult-diagnosed autistic woman, I value accessibility in everything I do, and am more than happy to adjust our working style to benefit us both.
Whether that means cameras off during calls, sending voice notes instead of meetings, or giving very clear feedback, I always want you to feel as comfortable voicing what you need!