I still kind of laugh thinking about the moment everything shifted. It wasn’t some big marketing strategy meeting or some expensive consultant whispering secrets. It was literally me, half-tired, scrolling through different tools online, wondering why my brand felt invisible even though I was doing “everything right.” And then—almost casually—I stumbled onto a press release submission website.
Nothing special at first glance. Or so I thought.

You know how sometimes you try things without expecting anything? That was me. I’d written a short announcement about a new service I launched, saved it on my desktop, and kept telling myself I’d “promote it properly later.” But later kept stretching out. Weeks. Then months. Honestly, I never thought a simple press release could do much.

But then I saw someone mention PRWeb in a forum, saying it helped them get picked up by a mid-size news outlet. Did that even happen to regular people? Beats me. But I figured—why not? What’s the worst that could happen? My press release gets ignored? That was already happening.

So, I uploaded it.

And everything after that felt a little surreal.

Ever wondered why small decisions hit bigger than the planned ones?

Within a few days, I noticed a tiny spike in website visits. Nothing crazy. But it wasn’t from my usual channels. A couple of them came from local news sites I didn’t even know existed. Then someone emailed me saying they’d read about my “brand update” and wanted to know more.

That caught me off guard. I mean, who reads press releases unless you’re actively searching for something? Apparently more people than I thought… or maybe the right people.

Anyway, guess what happened next? A blogger—someone I’d been trying to get the attention of for ages—linked to my site. She said she found me through a syndication feed. And I just sat there thinking, wait… this actually works?

It’s funny how you can shout into the void for so long, and then one tiny nudge sends your message echoing in all directions.

Here’s a thought.

Before this, my brand story felt like a private diary. Something meaningful to me, sure, but hidden. I’d talk about my mission, my values, and my weird obsession with creating simple solutions to complicated problems—but only my small circle heard it.

But after that press release made its rounds, I noticed something shift. People started repeating parts of my own story back to me. Have you ever experienced that? Someone quotes your own words, and you’re like, “Wow, I said that?”

It was strange but in the best way.

The story wasn’t just mine anymore.

It became shared.

And honestly, I wasn’t ready for how fast that happened.

A small ripple became a weird domino effect.

After the initial coverage, another outlet republished the piece. Then a podcast host reached out. Then a potential partner said, “I found you through an article—thought your angle was interesting.”

My angle.
As if I’d laid out this master plan.

The truth? It was an accidental win.

But the funniest part? That press release wasn’t even perfect. I had a sentence I wasn’t totally happy with. I kept second-guessing my phrasing. I even wrote something like, “I’m not sure, but we think this update will help customers feel more at ease…” which sounds a little uncertain for a brand announcement. Yet somehow, that made it feel more real. More human.

Maybe that’s why it worked.

Why is that even the case?

I’ve noticed something over the last few years—people don’t really connect to polished marketing anymore. They connect to the thinking behind the brand. The small doubts. The rough edges. The moments where you say, “Okay, so this might sound weird, but…” and then continue anyway.

What surprised me most was how a press release submission website—literally the most traditional tool you can imagine—became the thing that amplified the human side of my brand. My messy, evolving, figuring-it-out-as-I-go brand.

And maybe that’s what storytelling has become. Not a perfect narrative. But a trail of breadcrumbs showing how you got from Point A to wherever the heck you are now.

Kind of funny how… One thing leads to another.

The more people discovered my story, the more I had to actually live up to it. For example, someone messaged me saying my transparency inspired them to start their own small project. And I remember thinking, “Wait, since when am I inspiring?”

But that’s the thing about visibility: once your story is out there, it grows legs.

And truthfully? It forced me to take my own brand more seriously. Not in a stiff corporate way. More like, “Okay, people are paying attention—don’t let the message get stale.”

So what really changed?

Not just the traffic. Not just the coverage. Not even the partnerships.

It was the narrative.

Before, I was the only one telling my story. After that press release, other people started telling it too—interpreting it, resharing it, and framing it in ways I hadn't even thought about. And if you’ve ever tried building something from scratch, you know how rare and precious that is.

I didn’t magically become a huge brand overnight. I’m still growing, still tweaking things, still wondering if I should rewrite my “About” page for the millionth time. But that first leap—the press release submission—gave me something I didn’t expect:

A louder microphone for a story I thought no one cared about.

Turns out, they did.
I just wasn’t getting it in front of them.

And that’s the part that stays with me.

Sometimes, the smallest action doesn’t just push your brand forward—it reframes the entire story you’re telling.

And honestly? I’m still figuring out what chapter I’m in. But at least now, I know someone’s reading.