Let me tell you about the time I tried to write my first professional bio – it was like trying to summarize my entire existence into three sentences while juggling a Starbucks latte and a screaming toddler. (True story: my kid picked that exact moment to “help” by scribbling on my notepad with a Sharpie.) I’d just started freelancing, and every template I found online felt as stiff as a starched Oxford shirt. You know the ones: “John Doe is a passionate innovator with 10+ years of synergizing cross-functional paradigms.” Cringe.
Here’s what I learned the hard way: A good bio isn’t a resume in paragraph form – it’s a handshake, a story, and a “why should you care?” all rolled into one. My early attempts? Oh man. I once spent 45 minutes debating whether “avid coffee drinker” counted as a personality trait (spoiler: it does if you’re writing for a mom blog, not a law firm).
The turning point came when a client asked me to write her LinkedIn bio. She was a former teacher turned CPR instructor with a side hustle making vegan dog treats. I froze. Then I realized: her bio needed to answer two questions new clients actually had:
- “Can this person keep my grandma alive during a cardiac emergency?”
- “Will her pumpkin pup cookies make my golden retriever stop side-eyeing me?”
Suddenly, templates made sense. Not as fill-in-the-blank formulas, but as guardrails – like training wheels for storytelling. Here’s the skeleton I’ve used ever since (tested on everything from PTA newsletters to tech startup “About Us” pages):
The Uncomplicated Bio Blueprint
- Hook: Start with something human (e.g., “I used to hate kale until I realized it pairs perfectly with bacon” – for a nutrition coach)
- Credibility: Not just job titles – think “Taught 200+ teens to code while surviving on gas station taquitos”
- Audience connection: Who do you serve? “I help burned-out nurses finally take a vacation without guilt-tripping their inner Florence Nightingale”
- Call to quirky action: Ditch “Contact me” for “Slide into my DMs if your LinkedIn headshot still has MySpace angles”
Real-talk tip: Read your bio out loud before publishing. If it sounds like a robot wrote it while stranded in a corporate retreat icebreaker, start over. I’ve saved myself from phrases like “solution-oriented thought leader” multiple times this way.
Last thing: Bios grow with you. The one I wrote three years ago (“Freelance writer who sometimes wears pants”) evolved into (“Midwest mom helping overwhelmed solopreneurs sound less like ChatGPT and more like the weirdo aunt at Thanksgiving”). Keep it in a Google Doc and tweak it every time you nail a project or fail spectacularly.
Your homework: Open a new tab right now. Type one sentence about what you actually do – not your job title. Mine started as “Professional overthinker turning panic into paragraphs.” Imperfect? Absolutely. Human? Like a fingerprint smudge on a phone screen. Now go make yours.