How much I is TMI?
I want businesses to think in terms of H2H communication (human to human), rather than the more traditional & transactional “B2B” and “B2C.” That’s what I keep bringing to work every day: copy, edits, and tips to help business humans write about their business, for other humans.
I’ve decided that life is too hard to be sold to, talked at, and ‘you’re not enough’-ed into buying. My clients are people who have great things to sell, and want really great words to help sell to great people. That’s pretty much my biz.
What’s really sinking in for me (and this may be super obvious to you, but hey, better late than never…) is that writing like a human for humans requires vulnerability, and getting vulnerable requires courage.
The fact that I write posts and share them — for the first time in a decades-long career — feels vulnerable and takes courage. Yup, even for someone who writes (for other people) all the time.
Writing and sharing, for all of us, takes courage.
Even writing about grammar and punctuation (pretty risk-free topics) feels vulnerable. I know that in any given post I publish, someone could find a typo, an error, or a massive turn-off.
I know you might disagree with my choices (like that the Oxford comma is negotiable). You might catch mistakes that eat into my credibility (like when spell check doesn’t correct my ‘alot-is-one-word’ habit). And you may know much more than I do about something (for example I do not know how to properly cite online sources because I graduated before the invention of the internet <gasp>).
That’s why it takes courage to publish even the most basic posts.
And then, imagine my reluctance to post about more personal things. Like, f-f-f-feelings.
Given the existence of pride, ego, people-pleasing as a survival mechanism, and/or the lizard-brain fear of being exiled from the tribe and sent to die… you may share my need to be liked by everyone, all the time. So of course putting ourselves out there will feel scary.
This fear is different from the fear of making a mistake and being “tsk-ed.” This fear goes deeper than “you should know better.” This is “you should BE better.” Yup. What if I’m fundamentally unloveable? That old chestnut.
So when I admit I’m not making six-figures (like every single other entrepreneur in the whole wide metaverse) or that one of my first essays was an embarrassing love letter to an oblivious summer crush… that’s a different level of vulnerability.
And yet, here I am, encouraging my clients and my co-almost-writers in Almost Writers Club to continue to put themselves out there, find courage to show vulnerability, and connect at deep levels with their own clients and customers. Because I know those business relationships end up being stronger and more fulfilling.
I don’t have data (yet) that proves more vulnerability = more profit. So don’t (yet) take this as business advice. Feel free to disagree. You may be rocking business and earning gazillions without ever feeling the need to be vulnerable. You could have a killer sales page, a spotless instagram feed, and a machine-learning program that writes all your content for you. You can decide to avoid sharing details about your fears, dreams, and experiences. Lots of people do business that way. And I’m not going to tell you that can’t work.
If, however, your work plays a role in your own self-discovery and evolution; if you’re exploring a give-before-get business model; if you’ve decided you aspire to engage with people at what Brene Brown calls a “Wholehearted” level, even in a business setting…
… then you will feel vulnerable, and it will take courage to go with it.
Being vulnerable, especially in the context of business communications, is hard because we never know if we’re doing it right.
“Am I over-sharing?” and “Is this TMI?” are questions I hear a lot when we’re writing About page copy, Founder stories and book jacket bios.
Since Brene Brown is a shame, vulnerability, courage and connection expert and champion, I turn to my notes from her book Daring Greatly for help distinguishing over-sharing from courageously sharing.
On page 161, Brown points out that “...using vulnerability is not the same thing as being vulnerable.” Sharing intimate details in order to force a deep connection too quickly, or pull attention, confirmation and energy from someone is calculated, not courageous. When you read something that strikes you as TMI, it’s because you can sense the info has been shared to serve the sharer, not that it’s been shared in service to you.
“Sharing yourself to teach or move a process forward can be healthy and effective, but disclosing information as a way to work through your personal stuff is inappropriate and unethical,” Brown says on page 162.
What feels like too much detail for one person can be a wonderful, compassionate, generous story from another. Jenny Lawson (the Bloggess) writes honestly about her struggles with depression and neurodiversity. She works it into her blogs, into her books and into her business. I’m not ready, nor prepared, to share as much as Lawson does. Because there are things I’m still figuring out, working through, healing from, and unsettled by. When I can stand firmly in my point of view on those subjects and know I can share in a way that teaches or serves my readers, then maybe I’ll be ready to go public.
If there’s a story that you want to share B2B or B2C, I love Brown’s “checklist” questions to help decide if we’re being vulnerable with good intention, or using vulnerability to fill our own needs.
Why am I sharing this?
What outcome am I hoping for?
Do my intentions align with my values?
Is this sharing in the service of connection?
Is there an outcome, response or lack of a response that will hurt my feelings?
What need is driving this behaviour?
What stories, lessons and discoveries do you think would serve, not your revenues, but your employees, customers, partners, colleagues? I’d be happy to talk about how to figure out choosing the words and crafting the sentences that get you out there. Let’s talk!