Positioning B2B leaders as authorities on LinkedIn • Storytelling-driven ghostwriter & personal brand strategist • Gain 500+ followers & 50% more leads per month

Struggling to stand out and attract clients as an executive/founder? You're not alone.

I know what it's like to feel lost on social media - especially as an introvert.

I struggled with finding my unique voice, sharing my story, and gaining clients too. 
Being a huge introvert, the idea of opening up and sharing my story felt daunting.

It probably didn't help that I went straight into freelancing after graduating University in 2022, but hey ho I digress. You can't win them all, am I right!?

And before you ask, I got a first-class honours BSc in marketing from the University of Kent. Not that it matters when working for myself!

So anyway...

With the constant hustle for new clients and the lack of fulfilment, I knew something needed to change.

That's when I began a journey of self-discovery. 

When I dug deep to uncover my purpose, my expertise, and why my perspective mattered, everything changed. 

I began showing up with confidence, not being afraid to express myself, and started attracting a consistent flow of clients.

It's at this point that I noticed something...

I had accidentally become a millionaire influencer! 

Okay, so maybe that wasn't quite it,
but what I did discover was...

I had built a strong personal brand!

Now, I help executives and founders like you do the same!

Through crafting a magnetic Linkedin presence that reflects who you truly are, I help you:

1) Build a standout personal brand that positions you as an authority.

2) Develop a content strategy that builds trust and attracts warm leads.

3) Optimise your profile to showcase your expertise and win high-paying clients.

Whether you need one or all three of these options - it doesn't matter.

What does matter is that i'm here to help you show up with confidence and get the results you deserve on LinkedIn.

Ready to build a magnetic personal brand on LinkedIn?

Book a FREE discovery call today! (in my featured section)

Ryan Keeler

"Talking about myself feels selfish."

I used to believe that too:

For years, I kept my struggles private.
Thought sharing them was indulgent.

That people didn't care about my journey.
That they wanted tactics, not stories.

So I stayed quiet.
And my content suffered because of it.

Then something shifted.
I hit a wall in my business.

I Felt lost, stuck, spinning in circles.

I was trying to figure everything out alone,
and getting nowhere fast.

So I made a decision...

I bet on myself.
Invested thousands in a mentorship programme.

And shared the whole story on LinkedIn:

• The fear.
• The investment.
• The transformation.

What happened next surprised me:

Messages poured in.
People saying:

• "Your story gave me clarity."
• "I needed to hear this today."
•  "I'm going through this exact thing."

That's when I realised:

Your story isn't self-promotion.
It's the shortcut someone else needs.

Your experience = their roadmap.
Your lessons = their breakthrough.

When you share what you've been through…

You're not being selfish.
You're being of service.

So stop holding back.

Your journey matters more than you realise.

P.S. What experience are you sitting on that could change someone's trajectory today?

Positioning B2B leaders as authorities on LinkedIn • Storytelling-driven ghostwriter & personal brand strategist • Gain 50% more leads per month

The biggest mistake I made when starting on LinkedIn?

Copying successful people's strategies.

• I studied the top voices.
• Analysed their formats.
• Mimicked their styles.

The result?

I sounded like everyone else.
Lost in the noise of similar content.

Then I realised something crucial:

Their strategies worked for them and their situations.
But they didn’t work for me and my situation.

You need to realise this too.

Sure, you can gain inspiration from those ahead of you.
But make sure it serves you and your goals.

Otherwise, you’re running around like a headless chicken.
And what’s the point in that?

When I realised I’d made this mistake,
I made an instant shift:

I started creating from my experiences and perspectives.

And before I knew it,
everything changed:

• My voice became distinct.
• My content became memorable.
• My audience became engaged.

What I discovered in the process was this:

You can study techniques.
But you can't copy authenticity.

So, my advice to you is simple…

Stop trying to be the next them.
Start being the only you.

P.S. When did your content start to feel like “you”?

My best friend turned 8 yesterday.

He's called Boomer and he's not even my dog!

I walk and feed him for a lovely man who used to coach my football team when I was a kid.

One of those genuinely good humans, you know?

But these past few years,
life hasn't been easy on him.

He lost his wife to cancer. 

Both his sons are also in the army.
They're the same age as me,
but he barely sees them.

He's doing alright now, though.

A youth football coach at a professional football team.
Owns a few rental properties.

He tells me how it doesn't feel like work.
And that's the dream, right?

He's proper social, too,
and takes Boomer with him everywhere he can.

But when he's away all day at football,
Boomer needs someone.

Enter: me.

Now, let me paint you a picture of Boomer.

He lives for exactly three things:
food, food, and food.

Oh, and sleep.
But only after he's eaten.

When I take him for walks,
it's less of a walk and more of a drag
(But a good kind of drag).

He's pulling me along while investigating every single smell in the neighbourhood.

Lamp posts. Bins. 
Random patches of grass that look completely identical but apparently smell wildly different.

Forensic-level sniffing happening here.

And the funny thing is, the only commands he responds too all the time are:
"sit" and "paw."

But that's only because he equates them with food.

He's basically scamming the system and I respect it.

Try calling his name, though?
"Boomer! BOOMER!"

You've got about a 5% chance he acknowledges.
Definitley selective hearing if you ask me.

I even have these mini conversations with him during walks. "Mate, how's your week been?"

Does he respond? Nope.
Does he care? Most likely not.

But, here's what gets me every time:
He's always smiling.

Tail wagging.
Living his best life.

The only thing he's fussy about is personal space. He doesn't want you right in his face.

And honestly?
I'm the exact same way.

Simple life. Simple needs.

Now writing this for me thinking...

Maybe we're all overthinking life.
Maybe we should all be a bit more like Boomer.

P.S. Happy birthday, you food-obsessed legend.

Your competitors aren't smarter than you.

They're just less afraid of looking stupid:

You've got insights.
Real, hard-won, battle-tested insights.

But you're not sharing them.

Because what if people disagree?
What if someone corrects you?
What if you're wrong?

So you stay silent.

Yet, your competitors post their half-baked idea.

They get engagement.
Starts conversations
And builds visibility.

Are they smarter? Probably not.
Are they braver? Absolutely.

And in business, brave beats smart.

Because smart ideas hidden in your head create zero value.

Yet, even average ideas shared with the world create conversations, connections, and opportunities.

You're so worried about being perfect that you're invisible.
And invisible doesn't win.

So, here's what I want you to realise:

Every successful person on LinkedIn has posted things they later cringed at.
Every thought leader has been corrected in the comments.
Every "expert" has been wrong publicly.

And they're all still here.

Still growing.
Still winning.

Because the cost of being wrong occasionally is way smaller than the cost of never being seen.

P.S. What idea are you sitting on because you're afraid it's not good enough?

2 years ago, I was proud of my value-first posts.

But that was my exact problem:

They were “good”… in the way a Google Doc is good.

Neat headings.
Useful bullets.
But zero pull.

I’d post… then stare at the screen like:
“Hello?”

No DMs.
No real replies.
No proper conversations.

And that’s when I realised what I’d missed…

I was writing ideas.
Not moments.

Yet LinkedIn doesn’t reward “good ideas.”
It rewards you when people stay on your posts and keep reading (known as dwell time).

So I stopped asking,
“How do I make this more valuable?”

And started asking,
“What actually happened?”

Because the stuff that holds attention isn’t the lesson.
It’s the scene before the lesson.

Since then, most posts I write start in a moment where something’s on the line:

・ A tiny decision that changed my whole week.
・ A conversation that opened my eyes.
・ An awkward moment I experienced.

That’s what gives a post tension.
And tension is what makes someone read the next line.

Once I started writing like that, everything changed for the better.

People didn’t just “like” my stuff.
They replied like they knew me.

And when they started bringing leads to my DM’s,
you guessed it, my business grew.

Not because I became smarter.
But because I stopped hiding the parts that were real.

PS: What’s the part of your story you keep trying to make sound “professional”?

I’d rather repel 90% of people than bore 100%.

Which sounds like a disaster… until you look closer.

Because “appealing to everyone” is the easiest way to build a brand nobody remembers.

2 years ago, I learnt that the slow way,
writing like I was trying to avoid trouble.

No strong opinions.
No real edge.

Just clean, correct statements.

It looked professional.
But it felt empty.

Then I noticed something embarrassing:

My posts that created real conversations were the ones that I felt nervous posting.

Not because they were controversial.
But because they were hyper-specific.

Specific enough that the wrong people leave,
and the right people recognise themselves in them.

And that’s when it all made sense to me:

If your brand doesn’t make some people think “not for me,”
it can’t make anyone feel “this is exactly for me.”

That’s why being liked is cheap,
but being clear is rare.

And clarity is what attracts the right people.

P.S. Where are you still writing to be liked?

One day, I realised my content sounded nothing like me.

I’d fallen into the same trap so many leaders do:

Optimising for outcomes instead of resonance.

Every post had a job:

・ Get leads.
・ Trigger DMs.
・ Look “smart.”
・ Prove my credibility.

So I wrote like I was trying to pass a test.
Post. Perform. Repeat.

And it worked… on paper.

The formatting was clean.
The points were solid.
The “value” was there.

But something felt off…

It didn’t sound like me.
It sounded like an algorithm-trained version of me.

Then I remembered something Alan Watts once said:
“You don’t listen to a symphony to reach the end.”

That’s when I came to an important realisation...
I’d been treating content like a means to an end.

But people don’t stay for the end.
They stay for what happens inside it.

The tension.
The pause.
The line that makes them feel seen.

So I stopped writing to “get somewhere.”
And started writing to create moments worth staying for.

Less “how do I get a result?”
More “what do I actually mean?”

Now I write posts the way you create music:

・ A clear theme.
・ A little tension.
・ A human release.
・ A point that lands.

And ironically, that’s when my content started translating into business results.

Because when your writing resonates, people come back.
And that is what turns attention into trust.

P.S. If someone read your last post out loud, would it sound like you?

My start to 2026 got hijacked by my throat.

And my body’s acting very smug about it!

It really said:

“New year goals? Cute.
Here’s a sore throat instead.”

Four days into the week, and I’m:

・ Shivering like I'm in the Arctic
・ Nursing a headache that could split atoms
・ Having shivers that would make a horror movie jealous

All I wanted was to start 2026 all guns blazing.
Turns out the only thing blazing is my temperature.

I had plans.
Momentum.
A smug little “this year’s different” vibe.

Instead, I’m starting it barely breathing,
while my body calmly shuts down the whole operation like:

“No.
We’re doing ‘nothing’ today.
You’ll thank me later.”

Which is deeply inconvenient.
But also… fair.

Because no matter how well you look after yourself,
sometimes a little virus (or whatever this thing is) turns up and goes, “Not today, mate.”

P.S. To everyone crushing their goals right now... I'm not jealous. (I'm extremely jealous.)

I can spot AI-written content in 3 seconds flat.

And it's everywhere on LinkedIn right now:

People think they're being clever.

Using AI to "save time."
Copy and pasting with minimal edits.
Hitting post and hoping nobody notices.

But it’s so obvious when you know these clear signs.

Here's what gives it away instantly:

[1] Em dashes everywhere:

(Real people use periods—but AI loves these things—because it thinks—they add emphasis)

[2] The "not this, but that" formula:

(Success isn't about working hard. It's about working smart. Leadership isn't about titles. It's about influence. We get it, you've discovered unnatural sounding contrasts.)

[3] Every sentence is a fortune cookie:

("Authenticity is the new currency." "True leadership starts from within." Cool, but what does that actually mean?)

[4] Posts that feel like Frankenstein:

(Random ideas stitched together with no logical flow. Just abrupt topic changes that make zero sense.)

[5] Robotic transition phrases:

("And here's the kicker," "But here's what's fascinating," "That's when it clicked" - the AI special)

Look, I get it.

Creating content is hard.
AI makes it easier, for sure.

But if you're not adding your voice, experiences, and perspective?

You're just adding to the noise.

Your posts might get decent engagement.
But they won't build a real connection.

Because connection requires humanity.
And AI doesn't have that.

You do.

Use it.

P.S. What's the most obvious AI post you've seen this week?

I nearly deleted a post for one reason.

And it wasn’t because it was “bad”.

I’d written something honest.

Not dramatic.
Not a trauma dump.
Just a real thought I actually believed.

Then the familiar feeling showed up:
“This might rub people the wrong way.”

So I started editing.
Making it "safe".
Softening.

Turning a clean opinion into a mushy paragraph nobody could disagree with.

And right before I posted it,
I realised what I was doing:

I was trying to remove the exact part that made it valuable. The part with a pulse.

So I did the uncomfortable thing.

I posted the original.
The one that sounded like me.

And instead of getting “nice post”, I got:

People asking questions that mattered.
People telling me what they’d been hiding.
People admitting they’d been performing too.

It reminded me of something simple:

If your content can’t risk being misunderstood,
it probably isn’t saying anything.

You see, perfection doesn’t protect you.
It just makes you blend in.

P.S. What are you currently censoring because it feels “too you”?

Your About section reads like a CV.

And it's costing you clients:

I see this constantly.
A wall of text about;

• Every job you've ever had.
• Awards nobody cares about.
• Skills listed like you're applying for a job.

But that makes a terrible About section.

What I've seen work time and time again is when your About section reads like a story.

But not a Finding Nemo or The Three Musketeers kind of story.

It's more like a story that shows you understand exactly what your ideal client is going through.

So, start with the problem they're facing right now.

Show them you've been there. 
That you understand it. 
That you know how it feels.

Then show them how you help.

Because deep down they're asking one question:
"What's in it for me?"

Here's what nobody wants to read:

"Professional with 15+ years of experience..."
(Congratulations. Now what?)

"Proven track record of success across multiple industries..."
(Vague claims are not proof)

"Award-winning expert in strategic leadership..."
(Which award? From who? Your mum?)

"Passionate about innovation and excellence..."
(Everyone's passionate. Tell me something useful)

Here's what actually works:

Start with their struggle. 
Make them feel seen.
Share how you've been there or helped others through it.

And within that make sure you answer:

• What problem do you solve?
• Who do you solve it for?
• What results have you gotten?
• How can they work with you?

That's it.
Four questions within a simple story.

Your About section should make someone think:
"This person gets it. They understand me."

Not "Wow, impressive CV."

P.S. When's the last time you updated your About section? (Be honest)

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