Copywriter, marketer, and storytelling strategist for mission-driven brands.
On a mission to burn down boring marketing—and build something real in its place.
I didn’t always plan to become a writer. I planned to be safe. Smart. “Successful.”
I Graduated from UNLV with a degree in Journalism during one of the worst recessions in recent history. I was watching the jobs dry up before I even had the cap off my head.
So I pivoted—like everyone said to do. Moved to Houston to study Speech Pathology. A total 180, but I loved kids, loved helping people, and figured this was something I could make work. It wasn’t. Not for me.
A year and a pile of tuition later, I realized I’d taken a detour away from myself. I didn’t want the career. I wanted clarity. Something I could feel
in my gut.
But before I could figure out what that was, life decided to clear the runway.
I got a job at an energy company. Sales ops. Cubicle. Beige everything. I told myself it was temporary—that I’d find my way into the marketing department.
I didn’t. Instead, I got diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis.
I was in a new city, no family nearby, and exhausted from telling the same story every time someone asked how I was doing.
So I did what I’ve always done when I need to make sense of something:
I wrote.
I started a blog.
That blog turned into a second one. Then a livestream. Then a grassroots little system I built from scratch to connect MS support groups online—because I figured if I could show up to a useless meeting at my corporate job, I could show up for myself too.
What I didn’t realize at the time was that I wasn’t just venting. I was building something.
Using story to connect, to educate, to move people.
And in that quiet, messy, DIY corner of the internet, I started remembering who I was.
I wasn’t fixed. But I was creating. The blogs were growing. The livestreams were helping people. And I felt ready—for something bigger.
So I booked a trip to Shanghai to visit one of my best friends. Two days in, I knew I didn’t want to leave.
Nine months later, I was there. I sublet my apartment, sold most of what I owned, packed a suitcase, and moved to China. I knew one word in Mandarin.
I taught English to adults, kids, toddlers. And in between the chaos of lesson plans and public transit, I wrote.
Not for a job. Not for a brand. Just for me.
That was the first time I imagined a life where writing wasn’t just part of who I was—it was
how I lived.
I packed and flew home to Vegas.
Three days later, the city I’d called home for two years went into lockdown. Flights stopped. Borders closed. I was grounded.
No apartment. No job. No plan. Just me, back in my parents’ guest room, asking:
What now?
I didn’t have the answer. But I had a gut feeling.
And then I found it—an online course from Alex Cattoni on how to write sales pages that actually sound like a person wrote them.
No sleaze. No pushy bro tactics. No faking your story to fit a funnel.
Just clarity, strategy, and empathy.
And something in me said:
That. That’s it.
And I started seeing the same patterns:
People were done with manipulative tactics and cookie-cutter messaging.
They didn’t just want to “convert." They wanted to connect.
They had values. Stories. Audiences.
They just didn’t know how to bridge the gap.
That’s where I come in.
I don’t just write pretty copy. I build messaging strategies rooted in what’s actually real about your brand: your values, your voice, your reason for doing this in the first place.
Clarity that connects.
Messaging that moves.
Words that work.
If your brand feels flat, forgettable, or like it’s stuck in someone else’s voice, I can help.
Your story deserves more than templates and trend-chasing.
Are You Ready?
Ashley Bryant
Ashley Bryant Copy