How I Got the UK Global Talent Visa as a Marketer

A Union Jack love lock dangles above London's famous skyline, representing hopes and dreams of talent from around the world.

I’d been thinking about applying for the UK Global Talent Visa for digital technology for a long time.

I’d read the success stories. Bookmarked the criteria. Half-written my personal statement more than once. But I always ended up closing the tab. I wasn’t a founder. I wasn’t building the next unicorn. I was in marketing. And even though I worked in tech, I didn’t think it was the kind of “talent” they meant.

So I took the safer route. I came back to the UK on a sponsored worxfk visa, found a good role, and started rebuilding my life in London. I was happy. I had a plan.

And then I was made redundant. And just like that, my right to stay disappeared with my job.

London in Spring. A gorgeous cherry blossom tree in full bloom decorates the front of a classic white townhouse, making a picture-perfect and peaceful spring scene.

What happens when your life is tied to a visa?

If you’ve ever had your future depend on a single line in a visa document, you’ll know. I felt like everything I’d built, my home, my community, my career, suddenly had an expiry date.

My first application didn’t go well

In hindsight, it was a panic move. I’d just lost my job and visa at the same time, and I felt like I was running out of time. I wanted to get back to the UK as soon as possible, so I rushed through the application, pulled together everything I could, and hit submit, hoping it would be enough. It wasn’t.

I tried to cram too much into too little space. I added screenshots of emails and social media posts, thinking they might help, even though they weren’t admissible. My recommendation letters were kind, but too vague. I didn’t give a clear sense of what I’d done, or why it mattered. It read like someone trying to tick the boxes, not someone who actually believed they belonged.

The rejection was hard, but also strangely clarifying. For the first time, I had to step back and look at my own work. Really look at it. And in that pause, something shifted.

I slowed down. And I started to grow.

Life in Portugal. A serene morning by the water's edge with a wooden table set up perfectly: a soothing cup of coffee, a well-used moka pot, a newspaper, and a hardworking laptop.

Instead of jumping straight into a second application, I gave myself space.

I moved to Portugal for a few months. I freelanced, surfed often, spent time with my family, and started thinking differently about what I actually wanted, not just in my career, but in my life.

I realised I valued freedom, creativity, and connection. I liked experimenting, mentoring, sharing ideas. I missed being part of something bigger, but I also wanted more autonomy. I didn’t want my future tied so tightly to a job title again. I wanted to build something that felt more aligned with my values.

And strangely, losing the visa gave me that space. It pushed me out of autopilot and gave me the time to look at what I’d really achieved and what I was actually capable of.

Rebuilding my application and myself

I started over. I rewrote everything with clarity and purpose. I stopped underselling the technical work I’d done. At Salesforce, I’d led the development of a custom ABM microsite platform using Salesforce Experience Cloud and the Aura framework. I wrote the technical specs, managed cross-functional delivery, and scaled it globally. It supported $10 million deals and became the new standard across multiple regions.

I’d also played a key role in major events like Dreamforce and World Tour Sydney, where I worked on the Salesforce LIVE platform to support live broadcasts and digital experiences at scale. These projects combined high-traffic event infrastructure with interactive digital engagement, showcasing how marketing and technology could work hand in hand to reach thousands of customers in real time.

I had built something that mattered, a product within a product-led company, while also delivering high-profile moments that brought technology and marketing together on a global stage. I just hadn’t told the story that way before. But the shift went deeper than the application form.

I was thrilled and confident about delivering my first keynote at the London Tech Summit 2024.

I did something else I never thought I would: I started speaking publicly.

For most of my career, I stayed behind the scenes. I was the one making things happen quietly, not the one on stage. But this process pushed me completely out of my comfort zone.

At first, I nervously said yes to a panel. Then another. That turned into podcasts, conference talks, and eventually, keynotes. I spoke about AI-powered ABM, web strategy, and digital innovation, topics I knew deeply but had never publicly owned. I judged industry awards, wrote articles, mentored with organisations like Stemettes. And along the way, I found myself surrounded by a network of people I genuinely admire and still learn from every day.

I started sharing what I knew, even when I wasn’t sure it was enough. And people listened. They asked questions. They told me it helped. They told me it mattered. Somewhere in that process, I stopped waiting to be chosen and started backing myself. That made all the difference. It became less about proving something to the UK and more about proving something to myself. That I had a voice. And that I could use it.

This time, I was endorsed

The second application felt different. I wasn’t trying to fit into someone else’s idea of talent. I was showing up honestly: this is who I am, this is what I’ve built, and here’s the impact it’s had.

When the Tech Nation endorsement came through, I was thrilled. The official letter came through on my birthday, a surreal gift after such a long, uncertain journey. I was proud, not just of the outcome, but of the journey. The growth. The stretch. The discomfort that turned into clarity.

This wasn’t just about getting a visa. It was about finally believing that I do belong. Receiving my Tech Nation endorsement was a turning point, especially coming from a non-technical background in marketing and digital strategy.

Greenwich park, one of my favourite places in London. Relaxing on a hilltop, you enjoy an incredible view of the classic charm of the Old Royal Naval College blended with the modern skyscrapers emerging in the distance.

What now?

I’m heading back to the UK soon, but this time on my own terms. No countdown clock, no employer sponsorship, no panicked scramble.

Before that, I’m giving myself a little more time to reflect, travel, write, and work on the things that light me up. Because if this process has taught me anything, it’s that success isn’t just about titles or companies. It’s about living in a way that reflects what matters most to you.

And for me, that’s freedom. Creativity. Contribution. Growth. And, above all, being true to your authentic self.

And if you’re in that uncertain, uncomfortable middle space, try to enjoy it. You might not be stuck. You might just be becoming.

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How to strengthen your UK Global Talent Visa application (especially if you’re in marketing or product)

Okay, let’s get practical, how do you actually get that visa?

If you’re thinking, “I’m not technical enough” or “my work isn’t extraordinary,” I get it—I felt the same way. But you might be more qualified than you think. There’s even a path for roles like digital marketing: the UK Global Talent Visa for marketers is possible if you show impact and innovation. Here are a few things that helped me (and could help you too), especially if you’re coming from digital marketing or another role that isn’t traditionally seen as technical:

• Reframe how you talk about your work. If you’ve built internal platforms, designed repeatable frameworks, or led innovation inside a product-led company, that’s product thinking. Show how your work drives scale, efficiency, or commercial impact.

• Clarify your role in the outcomes. Don’t just say what was done. Say what you did. What did you lead? What was your unique contribution? This is especially important in collaborative environments.

• Cut the jargon, they can spot fluff a mile away. Don’t overcomplicate it. Use plain language. Make your story shine through clearly and let your results speak for themselves. Show real impact, not marketing speak.

• Be careful with formatting. Sounds silly, but compressing too much into one page (guilty) or using screenshots that are hard to read can work against you. Think clarity over volume.

• Public profile matters. Speaking, judging, mentoring, it all counts. And it helps your confidence too. You don’t need to go viral. Just show up, share what you know, and be visible in your field.

• Strong referrals are key. Your referees need to know you and your work, and they need to clearly explain the impact you’ve had. Avoid vague praise or corporate jargon. Ask them to tell a story that proves your value, not just describe your job title. Personal insight matters.

• Mentorship and community events count. If you’ve spoken at meetups, volunteered your time, or taken part in grassroots tech events, include it. It shows you're contributing to the growth of your field and building community, that matters more than people realise.

• Your voice is part of your value. If you’ve been quietly delivering excellent work behind the scenes, it might be time to step into the spotlight. You don’t have to wait to be invited.

• Don’t overlook the personal statement. It’s one of the most powerful parts of your application and the first thing Global Talent Visa reviewers (like Tech Nation) will read. This is your chance to show who you are and what you’ll contribute to the UK’s digital technology sector. It’s not just about proving past achievements, it’s about showing where you're headed and why your work matters.

This process is personal, but there’s space in digital tech for people with all kinds of experience. Trust yours, take the first step, and best of luck if you go for it.

– Amanda