You need to write yourself an awesome intro

Nerd seeking nerd

When you go to an event or listen to an interview people are always introduced with fucking awesome intros. The intro gets you amped up and excited to be sat in front of a person full of such blazing glory. To listen it sounds like you are witnessing game changers, these are the people to look up to and casually worship from afar. But are they really all that? Don’t get me wrong I’m sure they are smart, ambitious or just really lucky people but they have the same ups, downs and monotony as you do, it’s just the introduction that makes them seem so great. It’s the introduction that focusses everyone’s attention and makes you believe in what they are saying. It’s the introduction that gives them the ability to capture the attention of the audience.

I think everyone needs their own awesome introduction.

Having your own bad ass introduction running through your head will give you a backbone of steel. It will give you the confidence to tell catcallers to go fuck themselves and your boss that you need a pay rise. At school you got certificates and stickers to tell you you are big, special and important; but now you need a way to do it yourself – and writing your own intro is the way.

It’s different to an elevator pitch or a list of accomplishments, your intro needs to sum up why you are the bees knees, why people should listen to you in a crisis and give you free gin at every opportunity. Your intro can be the little things that mean a lot to you “Rebecca can almost always keep her temper when talking to a knob-head”, the big things that you drunkenly tell people in a pub “Rebecca once quit a good job just for the sake of happiness”, or even just the little bits of weirdness that make you you “as far as we can confirm Rebecca was the first person to recreate the Lion King on Snapchat…scene by scene”.

Don’t sit there and tell me that you have nothing worthy of an introduction. Just to get through a normal day as an adult requires ten impressive feats before lunchtime.

When writing your introduction it is very important that you talk about yourself in the third person, there is no point saying such amazing things about yourself (that would just be boasting). And you have to make sure that whatever you write it is impressive to you, fuck what anyone else thinks. This will help you remain true to yourself in any situation and if you imagine Morgan Freeman reading it out will give you the confidence to try just about anything.

Rebecca is a writer, analyst and gin based life form who ran away to London with no plan and no hair straighteners. She moonlights as a blogger at Runawaykiwi while managing to hold down a job at the same time (and is always at work within twenty minutes of when she is meant to be there). A reliable friend and enthusiastic lover, Rebecca has almost a limitless ability to drink coffee and can spell “alert the amphibious squadron” without having to Google . Rebecca can see a cat in the street from a mile away, has never knowingly oversold and is about to self-publish her first book “How to sell roadkill on eBay”.

Maybe she’s born with it, maybe it’s just the intro.

2 Comments

  1. May 9, 2016 / 3:02 pm

    This is the very best.

    Jaime is a writer, freelance journalist, and interior stylist whose creative process comes to her in the shower. She works as a publishing professional by day and blogs every spare second she has. Jaime is also a talented musician who once hit her head on a grand piano during a performance and is currently a first violinist with the Royal Orchestral Society, London’s oldest amateur orchestra. Jaime is a multi-tasking badass, who also has creativity coming out of her butt.

    Maybe not the butt part?

  2. May 10, 2016 / 10:08 am

    Omg Jaime, that must have been painful!

    This is such a brilliant idea.

    Scar is a badass forensic investigator with a little old lady living inside. By day she fights crime on the internet and writes roughly a shitload of words every 24 hours, some of which even make sense. By night she uses windowboxes, her cat and a tech-free library bedroom to pretend she’s living in the countryside in the 1800s. Scar is dually fuelled by caffeine and wine, with the occasional foray into cheese from her family’s homeland, which she has never visited despite speaking fluent French and insisting on living in a French community.