Be You, 100% and Without Apology
I recently ran a promotion. Well, it was more of an "Announcement of Services" if anything, but it ran on LinkedIn and Facebook. On LinkedIn it was sent as a message:
And on Facebook it was a regular ad, leading to a messaging reply:
Of the 15 people that have responded so far on either platform, 2 of the initial ones had very specific suggestions for how I could "improve" the ad:
There is only one person from those 15 that is likely to become a customer (i.e. pay me money), and he said specifically when I spoke to him earlier today that he loved everything about the way that message was sent.
Everything from my profile picture:
...to the way I wrote the message:
Here's the punch line:
People are always trying to make themselves feel important by telling me the "best" way to do what I'm trying to do.
Those people are wrong and will never give me money. So I always ignore them.
My customers and prospects (the real ones, the ones that give me money) love it when I am totally and unequivocally myself, because they want to feel like they know me as a person.
That "unprofessional" profile picture is one of my favorite pictures of myself, and I couldn't care less what anyone thinks about it. It stays.
My writing style is extremely informal and straightforward. I try to remove as much fluff as I can (my college professors would be proud) because I know that the people I'm writing to only have 3 or 4 minutes to spare on my thing until they have to rush off and put out some new fire. And yes, I apologize right out the gate if I feel like I'm being intrusive.
Because that's how I am. Period. That's what I would do if I was sending a one-off message to anyone, for any reason.
So far, people absolutely love it. At least the ones that end up giving me money do. The rest, unfortunately, I don't really care about. I don't have enough time.
Besides, can you imagine trying to do work for a client that you know is judging your communication style and "unprofessional" appearance? That sounds like death. And cancer. In fact, that sounds like death ate cancer, then ate you, then ate a skunk, and now you're just sitting in there, rotting away forever with a skunk and cancer.
Unpleasant, to say the very least.