Sophie Christine

Sophie ChristineJul 15, 2026

I loved a product so much that I searched for the founder on LinkedIn. I use this product regularly and genuinely like the brand, so naturally I got curious about the person who built it. I found the founder's profile. And there was... almost nothing. I spent a few minutes scrolling and still couldn't tell you what they think about their own industry, why they started the company or even what they want to change through the brand. Which felt strange because I already liked their product. They didn't have to convince me to care. The brand had already done that. I was literally looking for them. And I think this is something a lot of founders underestimate. You don't need to post every day or turn yourself into a LinkedIn creator. But when someone likes your company enough to search your name, what do they find? A job title? A company name? Three reposts from the brand page? Because your customers can know your brand really well and still have absolutely no idea who you are. And maybe some founders are completely fine with that. But if you're trying to build trust, credibility or become known in your industry, you're leaving a lot on the table. Your brand already got me to your profile. You just gave me no reason to remember the person behind it.

Sophie ChristineJul 21, 2026

I was scrolling LinkedIn yesterday and I must've read around 30 posts. Some were genuinely useful. I can't remember who wrote a single one. But I can remember a creator talking about getting stuck in an airport. That post wasn't useful. It wasn't educational. It didn't have a framework. But I remember exactly who posted it. That feels unfair. The people putting in the most effort are often the easiest to forget. The people I remember make me feel like I know them. I'm starting to think "adding value" isn't enough anymore. It's become the baseline. People don't just remember ideas. They remember the people attached to them.

Sophie ChristineJul 23, 2026

My first freelance client came through a referral. I was excited. And terrified. It was the first time someone had trusted me enough to pay for my work. We got on a Zoom call. For 45 minutes, he walked me through his business. When the call ended, I thought it had gone really well. I opened a blank document to start putting together his LinkedIn strategy. And... I couldn't write a single sentence. I knew he'd explained everything. For a moment, I thought the problem was me. Then it hit me. The problem was that he couldn't see his business the way an outsider would. When you've spent years building a business, it's almost impossible to remember what it's like hearing about it for the first time. There's actually a name for this. The Curse of Knowledge. It's the tendency to forget what it's like not to know what you know. So instead of forcing a strategy, I asked if we could jump on another call. I spent some time writing down all the questions I wished I'd asked the first time. We went through them one by one. I left that call with pages of notes. This time, the strategy almost wrote itself. The profile came together. I'm not working with him anymore. But that project changed how I think about positioning. It taught me that most founders don't struggle because they have nothing to say. They struggle because they have too much. And when you've spent years inside your own business, it's surprisingly hard to tell what someone hearing it for the first time actually needs to know.