My Biggest Mistakes in 7 Years of UX Writing

A few weeks ago, I came across a LinkedIn post that caught my attention. It warned junior UX Writers and Content Designers about a specific mistake—one that would supposedly "give them away" as juniors. The post sparked a heated discussion, with many (rightly) pointing out that shaming juniors for actually appearing as beginners is just not cool, and that we should instead praise their curiosity and courage, especially because we are all beginners at one point or another. 

But as much as I agreed with all of that, the post included another assumption that I consider equally dangerous: 

Juniors make certain mistakes. Seniors don’t. 

And saying who is “allowed” to make certain kinds of mistakes is toxic—and it doesn’t reflect the reality of UX work.

But let’s be real: We as seniors, leaders, and directors cultivate that narrative. 

How? Simple:

By not talking about actual mistakes in a realistic and relatable manner. 

Sure, we say things like, “Mistakes help us grow,” but with that, we stay vague, don’t we?

No one shares the messy, real stuff that happens along the way.

And to be honest, I’m tired of it. 

Let’s normalize talking about actual mistakes—not just as “stepping stones for growth”, but as part of our lived reality in this profession. 

And to show you that yes, you can still succeed without being perfect, I’m sharing some of my most embarrassing, consequential, discrediting, and persisting mistakes from my career as a UX Writer.

And trust me, they’re real.

They’re also not stepping stones for growth. They’re just stupid mistakes. 

Mistakes = failure? 

Before we dive in, let me quickly introduce myself. I’ve been a UX Writer for seven years. I’ve led countless UX Writing projects for prestigious brands, helped companies reach UX content maturity, taught 14 online courses to 25,000 students globally, and run workshops for renowned companies. I also host the biggest UX Writing channel on YouTube and speak at conferences about our lovely discipline.

Everything I’ve built has been built while making mistakes. Lots of them. Embarrassing ones. Some that were pretty consequential. And some that were not so consequential—well, apart from the fact that I still cringe about them today. 

So, let’s pull back the curtain and get into it. Buckle up. 

A Very Embarrassing Mistake

Promoting a tool that doesn’t even work for my audience

In my earlier years as a UX Writer, long before ChatGPT or any similar tools, I was invited to a local German meetup to give a talk about inclusive UX Writing—in German. I explained how crucial it is to truly understand your target audience and ensure that your copy’s phrasing and message are always tailored to their needs. I stressed the importance of readability, especially when writing UX copy in German, as the language can be quite formal and complex. To ensure readability, I recommended using Grammarly. I gave a detailed introduction to Grammarly and how it can help maintain quality in our copy. Just as I was finishing up, someone raised their hand and said, “But Grammarly isn’t even available for German copy, is it?” My answer: “Uh, no, you’re right.” The follow-up questions: “Then which tool can I use to check readability for German copy?” My face went blank. I didn’t have an answer.

A Very Consequential Mistake

Overestimating a Project and Losing the Client 

By year two, I was working full-time as a UX Writer at an agency. I had some experience under my belt, but little knowledge about agency life or how to negotiate with clients. One time, a client started showing interest in our UX Writing service and their product owner asked to meet up with me to “have a talk”. I went in heavily underprepared (just a talk, right?), so when he asked me for a rough time estimate, I panicked and threw out a number that was laughably high. And I mean literally laughable—the client laughed and dismissed the offer. We lost the deal.

A Very Discrediting Mistake

Using an Ableist Term in My Course 

A few years into my career, I was already teaching online courses about UX Writing. In my most popular course, I casually used an ableist term. I didn’t realize it until an amazing student sent me a kind but firm message pointing out that I needed to do better. She was right. By then, thousands of students had already taken the course. This was the mistake I regret most—and the one I’ve learned the most from.

A Very Persistent Mistake

Typos, Typos, Typos

I couldn’t, for the life of me, NOT leave a typo in an important text. Seriously—let me write something, have it reviewed by another writer, run it through Grammarly, double-check it with ChatGPT, and then publish it. Two weeks later, I’ll look at it again and… BANG. There it is—a typo. Want an example? My very first newsletter. I poured my heart into writing it, ran it through my pedantic quality control process, and hit “Send.” The minute I saw a copy in my own inbox, I realized I’d made a typo in the one part I hadn’t checked: the greeting header. That was literally last month. 

Header of my first newsletter with a typo, turning the opening into “Here there” instead of “Hey there”.

The Truth About Being a Senior

Here is the deal: My newsletter had a 90 % open rate. Nobody unsubscribed because of that typo. For every typo I’ve overlooked, I’ve published dozens of high-quality texts. For every deal I didn’t land because of a mistake, I’ve landed five successfully.

And yes, I’ve learned from my mistakes. I learned that I need to be prepared, attentive, focused on details. But I also learned that making mistakes is inevitable.

Being a senior isn’t about never making mistakes. It’s about having the soft skills to manage yourself, thinking holistically, guiding a project from start to finish, implementing and refining processes, and much more. It’s about having a wide range of solutions for specific problems, understanding the business side of things, and staying committed to growth every single year.

Most importantly, it’s about how you handle mistakes. Don’t waste your time trying to avoid them—or worse, hide them. It’s a race you can’t win.

Instead, focus on getting better. Build your knowledge. Train your skills. Build the confidence to face your mistakes, take responsibility for them, and learn from them. When you do that, you’ll grow and—as the cliché goes—not in spite of your mistakes, but because of them.