Have you seen those emails – the ones that seem to come all too often from companies when letting their customers know about a data breach and how their data may’ve been affected? They seem so stilted, anonymous.
Here’s part of one I got a while back.
Unfortunately, we have today become aware of a security incident. As soon as we were notified, we immediately took steps to identify and remedy the cause, and have reported the situation to authorities.
I used to work in corporate marketing, and I can tell you in situations like these, hours and hours (and HOURS) of work go into crafting the carefulness of the entire communication, including that one paragraph.
It’s a lot of effort. It’s complicated. In a case like this, there’s a need to communicate something, and there are multiple, often competing, agendas at play – not damaging customer trust, reducing liability, communicating just enough without creating a panic, notifying quickly while not having all the facts at hand, brand impact, etc.
And, it’s exhausting.
And while there may be many good reasons why if you’re a major corporation you need to communicate like that, the good news there just aren’t many (and I’d argue that depending on your ideal clients there aren’t any) reasons to do that if you’re a coach, healer or other creative entrepreneur. (One caveat to this discussion - if your ideal clients are corporate decision makers, there may be a different level of balance between you and the voice of your client required.)
The Shield of Professionalism
Carefully crafted, overly professional emails can be a way of hiding. And they create distance between you and your ideal clients. Not so great if you’re trying to create connection.
When I worked at my corporate job and would travel to come into the office, my best friend used to tease me. “Are you going to wear your scary black suit again?” she'd ask, laughing.
“Probably,” I’d say before we’d turn to laugh about the latest office gossip or leadership mess.
What I didn't realize at the time, although my friend did, was that those suits were part of a role. I’d come into our various offices to meet my teams of managers and global consultants, and I seemed, I now realize, unapproachable. I held the client relationships, and wearing those suits, I suppose, was one way to convey my role.
It also kept me safe.
Black slacks and suit jacket. Chiffon top, light color - not too loud, no pattern. Understated shoes. Pearls or some other simple necklace. Rolling laptop case. There were no flowy tops, no big bold colors or flowers. There was no outspoken, quick wit. No intuition. No magic. In other words, no me.
The funny thing was when I finally shed that career and stepped into doing something I really loved offering me more meaning and purpose, I accidentally brought the suit with me…
Your Language as The Black Suit
In other words, even though I worked for myself, at first, I still used that corporate voice in my marketing. When I look back at my early posts and emails, the words were mine, but they didn’t feel too much like me.
I see the language has a sheen to it. There’s a polish and gloss. I kept my writing professional, error free.
While the error free part is not necessarily a bad thing, when combined with that stilted, corporate veneer, it creates a distance. There’s not a closeness or a sense of vulnerability there, and that makes it harder for people to relate to.
And that’s a marketing problem.
If your words are harder to relate to, it makes it harder for people to get to know you. Harder to decide if they like you. And ultimately more difficult for them to trust you. All things that are part of creating connection in your business with your potential clients.
Moving into the way I write now didn’t happen overnight. But it started with a desire to create authentic connection and an awareness of how the language you use in your marketing is a reflection of you, the real you.
What about you? What do you notice about the language you use in your marketing? Are you creating connection or are you unconsciously constructing a distance?