Let me put it this way.

When I was young, my dad took me to the British Museum. We walked past all the usual stuff: the mummies, the Elgin Marbles, the Roman coins. But what stuck with me was a small Japanese painting.

A monk sitting on a mountainside looking at the moon. The label said it was by a poet who was also a painter who was also a monk.

That puzzled me.

“Dad, why was he all those things? Why didn’t he just pick one?”

My dad smiled. “Because that’s not how people work.”

We’re obsessed with putting people in boxes.

You’re a writer or you’re a designer. Are you technical or creative? Then, there’s the whole left-brain or right-brain argument.

It’s mostly rubbish.

Leonardo da Vinci was an artist, scientist, engineer, anatomist, and inventor. David Bowie was a musician, actor, painter, and writer Steve Jobs merged technology with liberal arts.

None of them stayed in their lane.

Your blog isn’t BBC One. It isn’t ITV or Channel 4. It doesn’t need a programming director making sure everything fits neatly into a genre.

Your blog is you.

And you’re not just one thing.

Maya Angelou said: “I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”

Your readers don’t come to your blog because it fits neatly into a category. They come because of you. Your voice. Your insights. Your perspective.

And your perspective isn’t limited to one subject. The marketing experts will tell you to find your niche. To stick to one topic. And to become the go-to expert on that one little slice of the world.

But that’s their business model, not yours. They want to put you in a box because it makes you easier to sell. But what if you don’t fit in a box? What if your strength is that you don’t?

Think about the best conversations you’ve ever had.

Did they stick rigidly to one topic? And did they follow a strict agenda? Or did they meander across subjects, making unexpected connections?

That’s the thing… The best blogs are like the best conversations.

They surprise you.

I write about life, work and photography. But also about psychology and maybe current affairs.

Because they’re all connected. And the connections are where the interesting stuff happens. I’m interested in all of it, and so are my readers — I hope.

So I’ll keep crossing genres.
Mixing it up.
Breaking the rules.

Because your blog isn’t a marketing strategy. It’s a window into how you think. And if how you think crosses genres, then your blog should too.

That’s not a mistake.
That’s your advantage.