Hi. I am Lilach.

The marketing bit.

I built my first business 21 years ago, grew a small agency around it, and sold it before most people had heard of the model.

By my early 30s I was building and running social media agencies. With teams. With staff. With proper grown-up overheads. Back when social media was the thing you had to explain at dinner parties to people who quietly worried you might be wasting your life. Then digital marketing. Then content. Then PR. I became one of the first social media influencers in the UK, long before influencer was a job with a salary attached, and definitely before it was a job people respected.

The accolades arrived, somewhat embarrassingly. Forbes named me one of the Top 20 Social Media Power Influencers in the world. (Yes, the world. I checked twice.) Oracle named me Social Influencer of Europe. Career Experts ranked me Number One Digital Marketing Influencer in the UK. I stood on more than 100 stages worldwide. I did TV. I did radio. I had tea with the Prime Minister’s wife for Mumpreneur of the Year and tried to look like someone who has tea at Number 10 every Tuesday.

There were surreal moments. IBM flew me to Monaco in a helicopter. I have enough free phones, drones, and assorted swag in my house to open a small museum. I flew first class to keynotes where audiences queued for selfies before selfies were a thing.

I worked with hundreds of brands across those years. Twitter, Dropbox, IBM, monday.com, Greenpeace, and Hootsuite are the ones you will have heard of. Plenty more you will not, including a fair number of startups who have since become household names while I quietly took credit in the corner.

I made what felt like real money, though looking back it was the kind of real money that disappears the moment you stop working for it.

The crash.

Then COVID hit. The agency died first. My back, which had been giving warning shots for years, finally gave out next. I ended up in a wheelchair. Then a walking stick. Then a diabetes diagnosis. The weight piled on. Then, because the universe has a sense of humour, a war started outside my window. (I am a Brit who lives in Israel. The geography is part of the story.)

I could not work. I could barely move. I lost my income, then I lost most of my contacts, then I lost something harder to name. Maybe identity. Maybe the version of myself who could power through anything.

The passive income from this website held me up while I could barely sit at a desk. I will never stop being grateful for that. But because I was not working on the site, the SEO eventually crashed too. The traffic that had paid my bills for years quietly evaporated, and I was too unwell to notice for too long.

The rebuild, body first.

Three years ago I made a decision I had failed to make many times before. I was going to lose the weight, get out of the wheelchair, and build a body that worked again. Naturally. Stubbornly. With no shortcuts.

I quit refined sugar entirely. The chocolate was the hard bit. I was something of an addict, and the first six weeks were grim in a way I do not recommend to anyone. But I did it.

I lost 55 kilos. Slowly, over months and then years. I walked again. Then I walked further. Then I lifted weights. Then I started hiking. Now I run. Most days I forget I ever needed a wheelchair, which is the strangest thing to write.

I feel many years younger than I did at the bottom of all this. Some days I wonder what I was doing with my younger years, but I have decided not to interrogate that too closely.

The rebuild, business second.

The body rebuild taught me something I keep applying to the business. You do not get to the result by doing the dramatic thing. You get there by doing the boring thing every day for long enough that it stops being boring.

So I started doing the boring thing.

I restarted the newsletter that had gone dormant for years. It opened at 11%, which is the kind of stat that makes you want to never write a newsletter again. I obsessed instead. Tested everything. Wrote like the people on my list were real people, because they are. Three months later it opens at 70% week after week.

I started rebuilding the SEO on this website. Then AI got useful enough to be more than a party trick. With AI doing the heavy lifting, I am dangerous. Over 7,000 SEO changes on my own site and counting. Somewhat unhealthy levels of focus, but the kind that produces results.

Somewhere in all this I fell properly in love with AI. Not just love. I have become a proper geek about it. Twenty-one years of marketing brain plus AI doing the heavy lifting is a combination I did not see coming, and one I am still slightly blown away by.

What I do now.

These days, I help businesses use AI to save time and generate more leads, without losing the human touch.

I build the AI workflows you have been meaning to build but never had the time, the skills, or the patience to start. The kind that quietly does the work you have been putting off since March, in the time it takes to make a cup of tea. Audits. Sprints. Implementation. Training. The lot.

See the full menu of AI services →

I also still do consulting and fractional CMO work, but only for brands I really love. Life is short and I have become picky.

I train marketing teams who want to build AI capability internally rather than depend on consultants forever (I know, biting the hand that feeds me, but the good ones graduate eventually).

I offer newsletter sponsorships to brands who want my audience, partner with companies on content and ambassador deals, and still speak at events because I happen to love a stage.

Marketing has been in my DNA for two decades. AI is the latest obsession layered on top, and it might be the most fun I have had at work in a very long time. What I love most is finding the missing piece in someone else’s business. The jigsaw bit. The bit where the marketing brain and the AI together solve something nobody else has spotted yet.

What I am like to work with.

Friendly. Kind. To the point. Obsessed with results.

That is what most people who have worked with me say. (Including me, on the days I am writing my own About page.)

I am the kind of consultant who will tell you the uncomfortable thing in the room, but who will probably bring you a cup of tea before doing it. I tell the truth kindly. I admit it when I do not know something yet, and then I go find out. I do not pretend.

I have a saying I have been repeating for years. Someone somewhere has been claiming it as their own, and I promise I said it first. I am ruthless about ROI. I do not care how clever a campaign sounds. I care whether the numbers move.

I have been told I am Marmite, though I prefer to think of myself as direct with a smile. People either love working with me or they do not, because I have an opinion and I am not shy with it. I am fine with that. I would rather work with five clients who love it than fifteen who tolerate me.

What I am hungry for.

To do work I am proud of. To rebuild the income that quietly walked away while I was getting out of a wheelchair. To help businesses save the years of time I lost being stuck. To write the book I keep meaning to write. To stand on stages again, lighter and stronger and louder than before.

I am hungrier than I have been in 15 years. More energetic than I was at 33. The best decade of my career is still ahead of me. I am going to spend it building things I am proud of, with people I respect, using AI to do the boring bits so I can do the work that matters. The pity party is officially over. Possibly slightly insufferable about it.

If that sounds like the kind of person you want in your corner, the Work With Me page is here.