entrepreneurship

The Five Quiet Skills That Built My Personal Brand

(and the awkward stories behind them)

Anangsha Alammyan

10 Sep 2025 • 9 min read

Image from the author's Instagram.

(and the awkward stories behind them)

There’s a photo of me on the internet that looks effortless (yes, the one in the feature image of this article).

The picture has soft window light, shoulders relaxed, and a confident smile.

What the photo doesn’t show is the tower of books under my phone, the elastic hair tie I used as a “tripod clamp,” and the confused neighbor across the street who kept glancing up at my window because I was grinning at no one for fourteen minutes.

The thing about personal branding is that it looks glossy from the outside.

On the inside it’s a series of small, not-very-fancy skills practiced over and over again in private until they look like luck.

A tweet I posted recently listed the personal branding hacks I keep coming back to:

Taking decent photos of yourself
Writing in public
Speaking clearly on video
Engaging with others’ work
Consistency over years

Here’s how each one actually played out for me: the messy versions, the tricks I learned by accident, and the moments I almost quit.

1) Taking decent photos of yourself

My first “brand photo” happened because a friend bailed on dinner.

I was already dressed, hair presentable, light good. So I dragged a chair to the window, balanced my phone on a stack of Sapiens, Atomic Habits, and a very patient set of used journals, set a ten-second timer, and sprinted into frame.

The first five shots looked like someone was forcing me with a gun to my head to pose. The sixth was usable. I posted it, made a little thread, and three people messaged asking about my work. That has never happened with a blurry elevator selfie.

This made it clear that photos are the wheels that drive personal branding.

I still don’t own a DSLR. What I do have:

The 4:45 p.m. rule. That’s when the light in my apartment goes honey-soft. If I shoot then, I barely need editing.
The “exhale” trick. I press the timer, exhale fully, then smile. It relaxes my jaw and keeps my eyes from doing the panic-blink.
One background I trust. My bookshelf + a little plant. I don’t reinvent the setup every time; I reinvent the caption.
The 10-second timer. This acts like a emote shutter. No frantic lunges back to the phone.

The day I learned to take my own usable photos, I stopped waiting for other people’s schedules and started posting more.

A personal brand needs your face. In The Art and Business of Online Writing, Nicolas Cole says the easiest hack to gain audience trust is to have a professional photo as your social media profile picture.

Of course, now there are easier ways. AI headshot generators have exploded this past year. They promise to do what I used to spend an entire afternoon on: take some ordinary selfies and turn them into 40 professional-looking headshots in different outfits, poses, and backgrounds. I tested a bunch out of curiosity, and while most gave me either too-smooth, doll-like skin or outfits I’d never wear in real life, a few really impressed me.

BetterPic, for example, surprised me by giving me photos that actually looked like me. Not some hyper-polished avatar version, but close enough that I felt comfortable using them on LinkedIn.

The first time I updated my LinkedIn post with an AI headshot, I got a message from a potential client saying, “Love the professional vibe of your recent post!”

They had no idea it came from AI!

Original selfie vs AI headshot created using **BetterPic**

2) Writing in public

When I started sharing stories on Quora back in 2014, I was sure I’d be judged for the mess. I posted anyway: half ideas, process notes, little behind-the-scenes failures. People didn’t unfollow; they leaned in.

As a college student, I didn’t have much to offer to the world except the romance of being a college student. And so, I tapped into that, writing extensively about —

Being a woman in a male-dominated field (civil engineering)
Bike rides and cute moments with my college boyfriend
Job interviews, exam prep, and the endless assignments a Bachelor of Technology course throws your way.

Turns out, I didn’t need to be an “expert.” All I had to do was share my insights.

The most-read article I wrote in the past 5 years isn’t a polished tutorial. It’s a quick summary of the most powerful books that rewired my brain. I included quotes, my key takeaways, and a brief review of the books. People told me I gave them new reading goals, while all I was doing was listing the tidbits from my own reading journey.

The lesson here is simple: don’t wait to have a “perfect” story to start. Write about where you’re right now, what lessons you learned, and what small goals keep you going.

A few guidelines I’ve tried to keep:

Write the small, true scene. “I cried at my desk” is generic. “I stared at my unpaid invoice and ate a full tub of ice-cream in silence” is specific.
Name your doubt out loud. “I’m posting this before it’s ready because I don’t want to hide behind ‘perfect’ anymore.”
Give people something to do next. A question. A checklist. Even a nudge like “reply with your worst working title.”

Public writing isn’t performance; it’s a practice space with the door open. Don’t be shy to be yourself.

3) Speaking clearly on video

In my earliest videos, I used to sound like a I’m reading off a script.

I’d watch my own videos and think, Is this what my brain feels like?

So I stopped trying to “sound smart” and tried to sound like I do on the phone with a friend.

Three unglamorous fixes changed everything:

Talk like you think. I stopped preparing scripts and started speaking my mind. Sure, my videos look unedited and raw, but hey, that’s the vibe I’m going for anyway.
A sticky note near the lens: “SMILE WITH YOUR EYES.” It looks unhinged on paper, but it keeps my face from collapsing into concentration frown.
Record while walking. My breath supports better; my sentences land. And I can think clearer when I can move about.

The video that brought me my biggest client wasn’t the one with the best editing. It was a one-minute balcony interview with a writer I bumped into while on a trip in Goa.

I didn’t even have a mic. The video has wind noise i nthe background, and many awkward pauses. But my point was clear, my voice was steady, and — this surprised me — the comments were full of people who said finally someone explained it without jargon.

This shows clarity beats cinematic editing.

If your first videos make you cringe, you’re seeing what to fix.

4) Engaging with others’ work

There’s a writer I admired from afar for months. I’d read her posts quietly, nodding in agreement, then close the tab. One day I left a comment telling her where it landed in my life, and asked a real question.

She wrote back. Two weeks later we were swapping drafts. Two months later, I invited her for an interview on my YouTube channel about the mindset shifts you need to be a successful entrepreneur.

None of that would’ve happened if I’d stayed invisible.

My small rules for engagement:

The 1–5–1 habit. For every post I publish, I leave five thoughtful comments and send one thank-you message (voice notes count).
Save lines, not just links. When I save someone’s article, I also copy my favorite sentence into a running note titled “Sentences I loved.” Later, when I share the piece, I quote that line. It shows I actually read it.
Public gratitude beats private envy. If a peer does something brilliant, I name it publicly and tag them. Generosity has a long memory.

The irony of “personal” branding is that it grows faster when it stops being only about you.

5) Consistency over years

Consistency is the least sexy skill and the only one that works even when everything else glitches.

Earlier this year, when an algorithm change halved my earnings, this is what saved me: a folder of tiny rituals.

Documenting my thoughts and learnings every day, even if I don’t publish 99% of what I brain dump.
Writing 10 ideas every day and outlining 2 of them as articles or video scripts.
Recording videos in niches way out of my comfort zone.
Experimenting with new topics and styles, and publishing anyway, even when my thoughtfully-crafted articles got barely 100 views.

Consistency is not posting at 6:01 p.m. every day for eternity. It’s refusing to disappear when the numbers get quiet.

It’s the long game where you become the kind of person who keeps a promise to yesterday’s self.

How these five skills actually compound

A decent photo buys you a second of attention.

A clear video turns that second into trust.

Public writing turns trust into a relationship.

Thoughtful engagement turns a relationship into a network.

Consistency turns a network into a career.

The compounding surprised me.

One afternoon I posted a new article about how I was testing cool new AI tools. An AI founder I’d never met liked the post and clicked through to a three-minute video I’d recorded on my testing process. He commented. I replied. Two weeks later I was on a call with his team, consulting on their blog strategy. The invoice from that project paid my rent for three months.

Was that luck? Yes. But also: an article, a note, a video, a reply, and the fact that I’d been around long enough to be found.

If you’re starting now (or starting again)

Pick one of the five. Not all. One.

If you hate cameras, begin with writing in public. Share a messy paragraph and what you learned from writing it.
If your writing voice feels stiff, try speaking on video for a week. Pretend you’re sending a voice note to a friend who needs your help.
If you feel invisible, go all-in on engagement. Devote twenty minutes a day to thoughtful comments and thank-you notes.
If you feel shy showing your face, learn one simple photo setup and repeat it until you forget it’s scary.
And if you’ve been around a while and feel tired, make consistency seasonal. Ten or twelve weeks on, two off.

When I look back, I don’t remember the viral posts. I remember the odd little milestones: the first time someone said my video made them try again, the day my dad used my article screenshot as his WhatsApp status, the stranger who emailed to say my article helped her send a pitch she’d been sitting on for months.

Those are the breadcrumbs that tell you you’re on the right path, even when the numbers don’t.

If you and I were sitting across from each other: two laptops, two coffees gone cold, I’d ask you this: Which of these five skills are you going to work on for the next four weeks?

Write it down. Make it small: “Tuesdays and Thursdays, 20 minutes of comments.” Or “One video a week, even if I hate the first three.” Or “New photo on the 1st of every month.”

The internet rewards patience more than polish.

I’ll be here, doing the same, probably balancing my phone on a fresh stack of books because I still haven’t bought a proper tripod. The neighbor across the street will glance at me like I’m crazy. I’ll smile anyway.

And we’ll both keep building: quietly, consistently, one ordinary skill at a time.

If you enjoyed reading this, follow me on Substack to see a more honest, unfiltered side of my journey.

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