Everyone Clicks the Personal Blog

And I think I've finally stopped wondering why

Everyone Clicks the Personal Blog
Orientation — Rendered by the author in DALL-E

I don’t actually check my Linktree stats all that often. Probably because I think of Linktree more as a utility tool to set and forget, less as a space I should be actively maintaining. But the other day, out of idle curiosity and mild procrastination (a powerful combo), I actually clicked around and took a look.

One stat jumped out at me more or less immediately. By far, the most-clicked link was Of Wanderings and Words, which is plainly labeled as a personal blog.

Not the newsletters or any of the multiple places where I write explicitly helpful things. Not the platforms where people are more likely to find advice, guidance, art, or something they might reasonably want to do something with.

The personal blog where I presumably post my less polished thoughts, meta thoughts, and (on the rare occasion I actually feel like it) life updates.

This didn't necessarily bother me or anything, and I guess it wasn’t even particularly surprising once I sat with the idea for a while. But it did strike me as interesting, as small behavioral patterns often do when they also might be hinting at something larger.

Because if you asked me to predict how people would use that Linktree when I first set it up, I would have guessed in pursuit of efficiency or helpfulness. I would have assumed people would click on various links based on what they actually needed from me as a creator in the first place — art products, writing tips, etc.

Instead, they apparently click based on where they want to look first. I'm still unpacking why on earth that "where" is apparently "directly at me."

What "Personal" Signals (And What It Doesn't)

The word "personal" does a lot of heavy lifting online these days. It may or may not mean intimate or confessional, as the TMI days of LiveJournal are years in our collective past at this point (thank God). It does usually mean something closer to "interior," for lack of a better word.

So, when people see “personal blog,” I picture them thinking less, "Oh, cool, a diary," and more, "This is probably the place to find out who this person actually is." Because in 2026, there’s a much bigger difference than there used to be between:

  • Personal and private
  • Personal and accessible
  • Personal and available

Those differences so often simply collapse online anymore, but I like to hope most people aren't necessarily looking to cross boundaries. (I've somehow had stalkers despite the fact that my actual audience and online reach are minuscule.) I assume they're trying to do what I'd be trying to do if I clicked somebody else's "personal blog" Linktree link — orient themselves.

The Interior Room

I keep coming back to the mental image of a house when I think about stuff like this. (Probably a direct consequence of the extensive home renovation work we're having done right now, so bear with me.)

When I visit a house I've never been inside before, I don’t usually start in the garage. I don’t necessarily head straight for the utility closet, either, because that would just be creepy of me. Instead, I step inside and try to get a feel for the space and anyone who might live there.

I notice the light, the atmosphere, the smells, and the way the rooms connect to one another. I listen for echoes. I soak up all the details as far as how the person has decorated the space, how clean they keep it, and what they appear to use the rooms for.

I feel like that's what a personal blog represents these days.

Reading one is really the closest thing you can do online to visiting someone's hypothetical home, and there's a lot you can tell about someone by assessing where (and how) they live.

What Analytics Accidentally Reveal

Metrics are almost always framed strictly as tools for optimization these days. Think essential, very business-y concepts like click-through rates, engagement, and marketing funnels. All very tidy, all very bloodless.

Also, nothing I really worry about when it comes to my personal publications or online body of work, as I do that plenty when creating for my clients.

But occasionally, analytics can reveal behavior without commentary. They can show you what people actually go ahead and do when they’re not explicitly asked to explain themselves first. And in this case, the data reflected a behavioral pattern back at me — one I rarely think to consider at all when creating for myself.

Before that, I guess I simply assumed that because people usually reach out to ask for help, advice, or guidance of some kind, that that was what they'd be most interested in if they ever landed on my Linktree looking for something more beyond whatever it is they just read.

Apparently not.

Legibility vs. Being Known

I can't help but wonder how satisfying my personal blog really is to people who really want to know who I am as a person, though. Because being legible is definitely not the same thing as being known.

Legibility means a person's thinking can be followed and their work understood, and I go out of my way to make sure people can do that.

But a creator's very personal human voice has a shape, and that’s often what people seem to be looking for when they click something labeled “personal.” I know I can be incredibly opaque when I want to be (which is a lot of the time).

The older I become, the stingier I become with any details that could be considered truly personal. Including photos and such, because they're apparently the worst kind of stalker fuel.

Leaving the Door as It Is

Even though I have had issues with stalkers and parasocial individuals in the not-so-distant past, I don't particularly feel the need to reroute links, relabel things, or otherwise hide the door that people keep trying first.

That door is doing exactly what it's supposed to do — standing there, clearly marked, so people know what they're getting into if they decide to open it. People will continue to click that link. Some will read a little and leave, while a select few may decide to subscribe or otherwise stay longer. Most will simply satisfy their curiosity and move on.

And that feels… fine?

I guess sometimes it’s enough to understand that it's simply human nature look for someone's interior room first. Because before we ask for guidance, advice, or tools — especially any we may be asked to pay for — most of us want to know who we're actually seeking them from.

And that, as it turns out, is a very human thing to want.