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You're guilty.
I'm guilty. We're all guilty of this one! Because most of us? Don't know any better when we're first starting out in business. But the good news is that once you DO know better—AND you make the change?—it can help your conversions tremendously.
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If you saw me on the street, you wouldn’t think I was anyone special.
And I’m not. Not really. In fact, my story is eerily similar to yours, I imagine. It’s filled with a series of moments lived. Some beautiful, some that could bring you to your knees. It’s filled with decisions made. Some selfless, some horribly selfish. Some that were well thought out. But most are not. Impulsive. It's a word that has been used to describe me many times.
Quantity. That's what all those influencers tell you is important when it comes to an email list.
They tout their numbers (which are in the thousands) and make you feel like you'll never catch up! But the truth? Is that it isn't about the size, sis. Of your list, that is. *WINK!* So what IS it about? Allow me to explain. Ladies, let's get brutally honest with one another.
When the foreplay is bad, we instantly create an exit plan. And it might take you a minute (or ten) to get out of there—but damn it, you DO.
Today's super sexy topic: List Segmentation! *cue confetti cannons*
So, in marketing, you are supposed to (I say supposed to because most of us don’t) segment your email list.. Which essentially means you divide up your email lists based on your clients and their preferences. How? So let me ask you a question.
When was the last time you were told something was going to cost, "X" and you requested a way lower rate? Like half off? When your vet told you your pet's visit cost $100, did you pay? Or haggle? When your cashier told you your groceries were going to cost $200, did you pay? Or haggle? When your roofer told you your new roof was going to cost $4000, did you pay? Or haggle? When your child's coach told you uniforms were going to cost $250, did you pay? Or haggle? When the airline said your ticket was going to cost you $175, did you pay? Or haggle When I started my own marketing + copywriting business eight years ago, my reasoning for doing so was purely selfish—I loathed the 8 to 5 grind. And I believed there had to be more to life than working in a windowless box that took far more from me than it gave. Things like...
Walking the dogs on a warm spring afternoon. Drinking a beer at 3pm. Traveling more than 2 weeks a year. Strictly a self-imposed rule: Do not work in front of my daughter. Not only because she has a killer side hustle brainstorming ways to increase daily screen time limits and playing on mama's computer totally qualifies as winning, but also because I don't want to be that mom. My nose buried in my phone when she looks up excitedly, wondering if I watched her latest dance move.
My brain pre-occupied composing an email so it's instant mac and cheese for lunch again. My energy dedicated to copy and strategy instead of books and tea parties. And most days I do a pretty bang up job of parenting. Not to toot my own horn (alright, I'll toot it) but I consider myself loving, kind, and above all, patient with my kid. She makes it really easy. The child is more or less sunshine in human form. Ask anyone who has ever met her. Granted there are rainy days. Hers. And today—mine. It has been a tough week. You wouldn't think small breaks in routine would have such roiling impacts on day-to-day life. But it's Friday and I found myself scrambling for work time that I wasn't able to drum up Monday through Thursday due to various life circumstances. Which meant the Tigger movie for her while I scrambled through a list of tasks I knew I had to complete before we could go to the park. Listen—I don't want my kid to grow up thinking she's the center of the universe. But I DO want her to grow up knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that she and her daddy are at the center of MY universe. I don't want to be a Lifetime movie "working mom" but I DO want to set a powerful example for her, proving that it's possible to run a business and still be a human who makes time for life and the people in it. I don't want to spoil her with travels, but I DO want to teach her the beauty of running your own shop complete with location independence. But. Today, when I prioritized my business over my little—something I strive to never, EVER do—I didn't feel like a good mom. I felt like crap. Today I was not the mom she deserved. I don't think she suspects this inner turmoil, of course. Tigger movie? Hell yes, Al, pass me my juice and cheesy crackers and GTFO. For which I'm eternally grateful. All of which is to say that if you've ever felt like this? You aren't alone. It's a constant struggle wondering if you're doing enough or too much, isn't it, mama? But then I take a breath. Remind myself that an extra hour of Tigger today is unlikely to be what puts her into therapy 30 years down the road. Complete my to-do list. Shut down. And walk the two of us over to the park. Moming is tough. But if you're giving it your best in that moment then you also have to love yourself enough to forgive any slips and move forward. This kid? She still smiles at me like I'm the best thing since that slice of pita I let her have last week. So I must be doing something right—even on the days I feel I'm doing it all wrong. You know how…
You set aside time to meditate because you’ve been told it’s an important tool of self-care. Never mind that the closest you’ve come to practicing yoga is a totally unnatural reach for the brownie chunk that bounced under your couch. And the closest you’ve ever come to stillness is a slow crawl in traffic. But meditation…this is self-care you can handle. I'm branding myself. 🤠
Not to remind myself where the eff I belong—although honestly since having a child, the reminder might prove occasionally beneficial—but rather to combine all my interests under one entity. Truth be told having three websites—AllisonJanda.com, CurlyQMedia.com and Writerlust.com—is for savvy, ambitious women with time to spare. Granted I still consider myself savvy and ambitious. But maybe also a little frizzy. Slightly tired. And a touch more maternal. Certainly, no time to spare. Which everyone keeps saying is only for 17 more years but I still call my mother at least 5 times a day to tell her what I ate and I'm 35. So.* |
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