Here is something that happens to a lot of new bloggers. You sit down to write about a weekend walk, or a soup you finally got right, and somehow the words come out sounding like a brochure. “In today’s post, I will be sharing my thoughts on…” Nobody talks like that. You certainly do not talk like that. And yet there it is on the screen, stiff and polite and a little bit lifeless.
That stiffness is not a sign that you cannot write. It is usually a sign that you are trying to sound like “a blogger” instead of sounding like yourself. The fix is gentler than you might expect: write more the way you talk.
What a writing voice really is
“Finding your voice” can sound mysterious, as if it is something hidden that only arrives after years of practice. In truth, you already have one. It is the way you tell a story to a friend over tea. The words you reach for, the things you notice, the little asides, the moment you laugh at yourself.
Your writing voice is simply that same personality, showing up on the page. You do not need to invent it. You mostly need to stop covering it up.
So when we talk about finding your voice, we really mean noticing the habits that hide it, and letting them go one by one.
Spotting stiff “blog voice”
Most of us picked up a sort of borrowed voice from years of school essays, work emails and the many websites we have skimmed. It is not wrong, exactly. It is just not you. Here are a few signs it has crept into a draft:
- Throat-clearing openings. “In this post, I am going to talk about…” or “Have you ever wondered…?” Often the real start of your post is a sentence or two further down.
- Words you would never say aloud. “Utilise” instead of “use”. “Commence” instead of “start”. “A plethora of” instead of “lots of”.
- Talking to a crowd. “Readers may find that…” feels distant. “You might find…” feels like a conversation.
- Hiding behind “one”. “One might consider…” is a very long way from “I tried…”.
- Every sentence the same length. Real speech has rhythm. Short bits. Then a longer thought that wanders a little before it lands.
None of these are crimes. They are just small walls between you and your reader. When you spot one, ask a simple question: how would I say this if my friend were sitting right here?
Read your draft aloud
If we could offer only one tip for finding your voice, it would be this: read your drafts out loud. Not in your head. Out loud, at a normal speaking pace, as if you were reading it to someone you like.
Your ear is a wonderful editor. It catches things your eyes skip right past. You will notice:
- sentences that run out of breath before they end,
- words that feel awkward in your mouth,
- places where you would naturally pause, laugh or add “honestly”,
- bits where you start to sound like a presenter rather than a person.
Whenever you stumble, mark the spot and rewrite it the way you would actually say it. Often the spoken version is shorter and warmer. If reading aloud feels a little silly, that is completely normal. Try it when the house is quiet, or mumble it under your breath. It still works.
Some people like to go one step further and talk the first draft instead of typing it. Tell the story out loud, or record yourself if you have an easy way to do that, then write down what you said and tidy it up. Spoken first drafts tend to be messy, but they are full of your natural phrasing, which is exactly what you want to keep.
Let your personality show
Once the stiff phrases are gone, there is room for the things that make your writing yours. You do not have to force them. Just stop trimming them out.
Keep your little asides
The bracketed thought, the “which, by the way, I burned twice”, the gentle joke at your own expense. Beginners often delete these because they seem off topic. They are often the parts readers remember most.
Use your own words for things
If you call your bike “the old green one”, call it that in your post. If your family has a funny name for a certain kind of rainy day, use it and explain it once. Specific, homemade words make a post feel lived in.
Share how things felt, not just what happened
“We walked to the lake” is fine. “We walked to the lake and I was cold and grumpy until the sun came out over the water” is you. A small honest feeling goes a long way.
Let your opinions be opinions
You do not have to sound neutral and balanced about everything. If you think a recipe is better with twice the garlic, say so. It is your blog. Kindness matters, of course, and our community guidelines are there to keep things friendly, but warmth and opinion sit together very comfortably.
A gentle word on overcorrecting
Writing the way you talk does not mean writing down every “um” and “like”. Spoken stories wander, repeat themselves and trail off, and a little tidying makes them easier to read. Think of it as the way you talk on a good day, when you know what you want to say and you are relaxed enough to say it plainly.
It also does not mean you must be funny, chatty or bubbly if that is not who you are. Some people are quiet, thoughtful and precise in conversation, and their writing voice is quiet, thoughtful and precise too. That is just as lovely. The goal is not a particular style. The goal is for it to sound like the person who wrote it.
If you are unsure, the same trick from our guide to writing your very first blog post helps here: imagine one real person you are writing to. It is very hard to sound stiff when you are picturing a friend’s face.
Give your voice time to settle
Your voice will not appear fully formed in your first post, and it does not need to. It settles slowly, the way a new pair of boots softens with each walk. Every post you write, and every draft you read aloud, nudges you a little closer to sounding like yourself.
A nice habit is to look back at an older post every now and then. Do you wince at any sentences? Do some paragraphs still sound just like you? The ones that still feel right are good clues to what your voice really is. You can carry that feeling into your next draft, and even into small pieces like your profile, as we described in writing an About Me that feels like you.
So next time you sit down to write, skip the brochure voice. Make a cup of something warm, picture a friend across the table, and just tell them what happened. Then read it back aloud. Chances are, it will sound a lot like you.

Comments0
It’s quiet in here. Fancy breaking the ice?