More shameless self-promotion that is, I hope, at least entertaining

Self-promotion has a branding problem. The phrase alone can make even confident, competent people feel like they’re about to
stand up at a dinner party, tap a glass, and announce: “Hello. I’m amazing. Please clap.”

But here’s the twist: most “shameless self-promotion” isn’t actually about being shameless. It’s about being
legible. If people don’t understand what you do, they can’t hire you, refer you, promote you, collaborate with you,
or invite you into the fun group chat where opportunities mysteriously appear.

So this is a guide to self-promotion that doesn’t make your skin crawlone that’s useful, specific, and yes, at least a
little entertaining. Because if you’re going to talk about yourself, you might as well make it worth everyone’s time.

First, let’s redefine “shameless” (so we can stop sweating)

The most effective self-promotion is not a megaphone. It’s a receipt.
It’s not “I’m a rockstar.” It’s “Here’s what I did, why it mattered, and what it changed.”

Think of it as a public service announcement for your work. You’re not demanding attentionyou’re offering clarity.
And clarity is a gift, especially in a world where everyone is overloaded and skimming.

A quick litmus test

• If it’s about your ego: people feel it.
• If it’s about your impact: people remember it.

The “humblebrag” trap: why fake modesty backfires

A lot of people try to self-promote by disguising itwrapping wins in complaints (“Ugh, I’m so exhausted from all these
awards”) or false humility (“I can’t believe little old me got invited to keynote…”).

Unfortunately, that move often lands like a wink you can hear. Research on humblebragging suggests it tends to make people
like you less than straightforward bragging, largely because it can read as insincere. In other words: if you’re going
to own a win, just own it. Cleanly. Kindly. Without the costume change.

Here’s the version that works: direct + grounded + generous.
You can be proud and still be human.

The secret sauce: make it useful to someone other than you

If you want self-promotion to feel less “me, me, me,” add a second ingredient: value for the audience.
A simple structure helps:

1. Context: What problem were you solving?
2. Action: What did you do (specifically)?
3. Result: What changednumbers, time saved, risk reduced, quality improved?
4. Takeaway: What did you learn that could help someone else?

That last step is the difference between “Please admire me” and “Here’s something you can use.”
And people love things they can use.

Example: the cringey version vs. the clean version

Cringey: “Thrilled to announce I absolutely crushed Q4. So grateful.”

Clean: “In Q4, I rebuilt our onboarding emails to reduce drop-off. We cut time-to-first-value from 7 days to
2, and churn in the first 30 days fell by 12%. Biggest lesson: the second email matters more than the firstbecause it’s
where confusion shows up.”

The clean version is still self-promotion. It’s just self-promotion that earns attention.

Make it entertaining without turning into a circus

“Entertaining” doesn’t mean juggling. It means story.
Humans are wired to track change: before/after, problem/solution, conflict/resolution.
So instead of listing achievements like a robot printing a résumé, tell a micro-story.

Three story formats that travel well

• The Before/After: “It was messy. Here’s what we changed. Here’s what improved.”
• The Mistake-to-Lesson: “Here’s what I got wrong. Here’s what I do now.”
  (This one builds trust fast, if you keep it constructive.)
• The Unexpected Insight: “Everyone assumes X. Turns out Y.”
  (Great for thought leadership that doesn’t feel like cosplay.)

Notice what’s missing: vague superlatives. “Game-changing.” “World-class.” “Revolutionary.”
Those words are the confetti cannons of self-promotionloud, messy, and rarely necessary.

Build a personal brand (without feeling like you’re selling your soul)

“Personal brand” sounds like you should trademark your name and start signing emails with a slogan.
In reality, a personal brand is just the pattern people associate with you:
what you’re good at, how you work, what you care about, and what results tend to follow you.

A simple personal brand statement can keep your promotion consistent:

I help [who] do [what] so they can [benefit] by [how you do it differently].

Example: “I help early-stage teams turn messy user feedback into a clear roadmap so they ship fasterby translating
research into simple, scannable decision tools.”

That’s not bragging. That’s navigation.

Your “receipt stack”: what to collect so promotion is easy

Self-promotion becomes painful when you rely on memory and vibes. Instead, keep a running list of receipts:

• Metrics: revenue influenced, time saved, costs reduced, response time improved, conversion lifted.
• Artifacts: before/after screenshots, drafts, dashboards, briefs, slides, published work.
• Feedback: short quotes from teammates, clients, users, managers (save them while they’re fresh).
• Scope: what you owned vs. contributed, and who you collaborated with.

When you have receipts, you don’t need hype. You can just… show your work.

Where self-promotion works best (and where it faceplants)

At work: make your impact visible without becoming “that person”

• Status updates: brief, outcome-focused notes (problem → progress → next).
• One-on-ones: bring a short “what I shipped / what I learned / what I’m unblocking” list.
• Performance reviews: translate work into outcomes and scope (not effort and suffering).
• Credit sharing: highlight teammates by name; it elevates you as a leader, not a spotlight hog.

The faceplant version is only talking about yourself when you want something.
The sustainable version is making visibility a normal part of the work.

Online: be consistently helpful, occasionally shiny

If you’re building an audience (or even just a professional presence), consistency beats intensity.
You don’t need to post constantlyyou need to post predictably and with a point of view.

A healthy mix looks like:
teach what you know, share what you’re learning, and sometimes show a win (with receipts).
Then invite conversation instead of applause.

Make it scannable: promote like people actually read

Online, most people don’t readthey scan. That’s not cynicism; it’s reality.
So if your self-promotion is a single 14-line paragraph, it will be treated like a Terms of Service update.

Use short paragraphs, strong headings, bullets, and bolded anchors.
If your work is good, don’t hide it in a wall of text like it’s a treasure map.

The anti-cringe checklist

• Be specific: “Improved retention” becomes “reduced churn from 5.1% to 4.4%.”
• Be proportional: match the size of the announcement to the size of the achievement.
• Be generous: name collaborators, share credit, and spotlight others.
• Be human: include one moment of uncertainty, surprise, or learning (not a melodrama).
• Be useful: add a takeaway someone can steal (politely) for their own work.
• Be consistent: one clear lane beats ten scattered identities.

So… can self-promotion be “shameless” and still classy?

Yesif “shameless” means you stop treating your work like a secret and start treating it like a signal.
The goal isn’t to convince people you’re impressive. The goal is to make it easy for the right people to understand:
this is what I do, this is how I do it, and this is what changes because of it.

Make it scannable. Make it grounded. Make it generous. Make it a little fun.
And if your inner critic starts shouting “Who do you think you are?” just reply:
“Someone who’s done good workand is finally labeling the jar.”

of experience-style scenes (composite, but painfully familiar)

Scene one: you publish something you’re proud of, and immediately develop the impulse to pretend it happened to someone else.
You hover over the “Share” button like it’s wired to an electric fence. You consider writing, “Just tossing this out there…”
as if excellence is a frisbee you found in the grass. Then you remember: people can’t support work they never see.
So you write a clean post insteadwhat you made, who it’s for, what changed, and one lesson you learned the hard way.
A colleague replies, “This solved the exact problem I had last week.” That’s the moment you realize promotion isn’t begging.
It’s routing value to the people who need it.

Scene two: a networking event. The small talk warms up, and someone asks, “So what do you do?”
Old you would’ve answered with a job title and a nervous laugh. New you tries the brand statement.
“I help teams turn complicated information into decisions people can actually make.”
The other person leans in: “Ohlike what kind of decisions?” Now you’re having a real conversation.
You share a tiny story: the messy before, the simple change, the measurable after.
No fireworks, no chest-thumpingjust a clear picture. Later, they introduce you to someone who’s hiring.
Not because you “sold” them, but because you made it easy for them to remember you accurately.

Scene three: you try to be humble online and accidentally invent a humblebrag.
“So honored and exhausted to be recognized…” You post it, and it sits there, radiating weird energy.
You delete it (quietly, like a cat knocking something off a table). Next time you do it differently:
“I’m excited to share that our project was recognized. The best part wasn’t the awardit was the outcome:
we cut customer wait time by 30% and reduced repeat contacts. Huge credit to the support team who tested every change.”
That post gets fewer fireworks emojis, but more meaningful messages:
“How did you measure that?” “Can you share the workflow?” You’ve accidentally become useful,
which is the best kind of memorable.

The pattern across all three scenes is simple: self-promotion stops feeling gross when it stops being vague.
When you trade hype for receipts, and performance for clarity, you get to keep your dignityand your audience gets a reason
to care. The “entertaining” part isn’t forced humor or dramatic flair. It’s the satisfaction of a good story:
something real happened, something changed, and someone learned something they can use.
That’s not shameless. That’s just… communication.