Here's the thing: Negative feedback (and why it sticks)

How to deal with negative feedbackEvery Friday I post a “here’s the thing” blog. “Here’s the thing” is something my mum (and many other wise people) like to say when they’re about to make a good point. Hopefully these posts are also good points.

Getting feedback on products, orders, services, social media posts, photos and, y’know, everything is really important for businesses. Do customers like it? Does your mum like it? Is there anything that could be better? Why would they buy it? Why wouldn’t they buy it? Do they think it’s a 5 out of 10 or an 8 out of 10?

Knowing about people’s experiences can help you to streamline and develop your business for the better.

And when people love your stuff, it’s really, really uplifting. You remember what you’ve always known but sometimes forget: that this is what you love to do, what you’re meant to do, what you’ve worked really hard to be able to do.

Woohoo!

Negative feedback. Oh, the pain.

You worked really hard to create something that’s kind of part of you. You made it. It came from your brain, via your hands, into the world. And they don’t like it. They think it’s too expensive, or too flimsy, or too small, or it was delivered later than they expected. They don’t like the colour.

Or, as I heard from a friend recently, their boyfriend didn’t like the envelope. (Please, get a grip.)

And out of the thousands of customers who are happy, delighted, ecstatic or just quietly content (because that’s great too), you remember the handful of negative comments.

Why? And how do you get rid of it?

We’re genetically, evolutionarily* programmed to receive feedback and moderate behaviour based on it. We do it as kids, and it’s how we learn to read and write and exist with fellow human beings. You get corrected on your spelling, and you learn from it. You burp at the table, get told off, and you learn from it.

As a species, it’s really important that we please our tribe so they don’t throw us out on our own, where we’ll die via lions and tigers and bears (oh my!).

And when you’re a creative business, a solopreneur, that’s terrifying. You’ve built a tribe of customers who aren’t obligated to like you (they’re not your mum) and you’ve got them to buy something from you, and you get really excited about building this group of brilliant people who get you, get your craft, get your products and then… Damn. They don’t like it. They don’t like it as much as you want them to like it.

You worry. You worry that everyone will think the same as them. You equate one person’s opinion with eternal truth. You lose perspective. Your evolutionary brain is telling you to moderate your behaviour. Change everything about your business to please everyone. And it gets angry, because your safety is threatened. Or it breaks down and tries to hide from the truth, because fight or flight is a real thing that happens every day.

And I know. I’ve been there. In two months, I’ve had one person say something I’ve offered is too expensive. That’s one person versus the eight mentoring clients and 20+ other clients I’ve worked with, who are happy and grateful and value what I do. (Hi guys, love you.)

And it got me. I had to walk around the flat physically trying to shake the feeling off me. Had I missed the mark? Should I not have offered it? Was I barking up the wrong tree?

No. Perspective. A service that offers value and, well, service. 28+ clients. In two months. And the realisation that I can’t please everyone. And that I don’t want to.

So here’s the thing:

Negative feedback happens, especially as your business grows and you get more customers. Because a wider pool of customers means a higher risk of crazy people or people who don’t get it or people who value other stuff to you.

First step: Is it actually true? If the order to negative ratio is more than, say, 10%, you might need to consider whether you’ve got a quality issue or room-for-improvement value proposition. No biggie. Roll with it. Call me. You can deal with it.

Second step: Perspective. Opinion is not fact. One person’s preference for envelopes doesn’t make yours crap. One person’s ridiculously high expectation doesn’t mean you have to match it.

Third step: Get it out. Tell someone. Rant about it. Let it go. Write it down and set fire to it. Whatever it takes to get it out of your head.

It’s your job to put a great product out there, with a fair price, with clear expectations, and then deliver on it. It’s also your job to take constructive criticism and consider whether feedback would make your product and service better. It’s their job to understand the product, accept the limitations and nature of the product, and receive it.

It is not your job to succumb to every whim of every weirdo who didn’t get it.

As Brené Brown (there she is again) says, “Don’t try to win over the haters; you are not the jackass whisperer.”

 

*I wasn’t sure evolutionarily was a word, but it totally is and I learned something today.

Here's the thing: The loneliness of business

The loneliness of businessEvery Friday I post a “here’s the thing” blog. “Here’s the thing” is something my mum (and many other wise people) like to say when they’re about to make a good point. Hopefully these posts are also good points.

I want to start off by saying: this is not an easy thing to write about, mostly because I’m really feeling the effects of it right now. This week I’ve been fighting off a cold, and as I write this from my bed on Friday morning, I can tell you that I’ve now stopped fighting. I’m run down and a bit poorly.

And I’ve been feeling a bit sorry for myself.

Looking after myself and trying not to do too much (so that whatever’s got me run down would quietly, you know, piss off) has meant that I’ve been inside on my own for a lot of this week. Which has meant even less human interaction than usual. And that has really hit home.

Working by yourself is lonely. Running a small business is lonely.

How many times have I heard that from small business owners? And I understood, I really did. But now that I’m nearly two months in and working on my own, I understand more.

I like my own company. I dislike pretending to like people I don’t (as discussed last week). I like my clients, I like my work. But I’m human, and as humans we crave the company of others. Not always real life company, even – sometimes we just want someone to say, “well done”, or “I feel the same”, or “do you want a cup of tea?” (I’ve somehow become completely overwhelmed with gratitude every time someone else makes me a cup of tea. It’s a rare occurrence these days, and feels so thoughtful!)

And I think in a recapitulation of the “comparison is the thief of joy” theme, sometimes it’s easy to imagine that other people don’t feel as lonely as we do. That they’re over there, never feeling insecure, totally fine working by themselves, and completely self-sufficient.

Well. I wager that that’s not true. No man is an island, and neither are we.

So here’s the thing:

Before we all try to rush and fix it by seeking acknowledgement on social media or hustling for attention from our nearest and dearest, how about we accept that this feeling of loneliness is human? That we are having a completely normal, truthful, authentic reaction to our situation.

And then let’s think about the feedback we really want, the authentic, truthful, maybe painful honesty that would make us feel seen and heard. Who can give you that? Where’s your community?

When was the last time someone really understood you and your current challenges and successes? Remember that feeling. Sometimes that’s enough.

And in the style of those cheesy posters, how about, seeing as you’re here, you take what you need from me:

  • You’re doing your best
  • Well done, you did a great job getting through Father’s Day/summer holidays/the year so far
  • You’re offering something unique in the world
  • You’re not alone
  • I know just how you feel
  • I hear you. I see you.

And if you need more, I’m right here. Or here. Or here.

Here's the thing: Authenticity in business

authenticityEvery Friday I post a “here’s the thing” blog. “Here’s the thing” is something my mum (and many other wise people) like to say when they’re about to make a good point. Hopefully these posts are also good points.

Earlier this week, I tweeted about authenticity, asking whether it was something anyone thought about. That tweet came up after I chose it as my word for the week this week, because I needed the reminder that being authentic is important to me as a person, and to my work and business.

But what does that mean? Well, for me, it means working with clients I really connect with – I don’t have to pretend to like them or their products or their businesses: I actually do like them. It means being real, and that means being honest about what I can and can’t do, or about the fact that I’m also a flawed human being who sometimes puts off doing the washing up for way too long.

Being real, being honest, being true to who I am – that’s really important.

And I know from working with some incredibly talented, ambitious and skilful clients that authenticity is something that’s valued by the small creative business community. Authenticity is somehow implicitly linked to the practice of being creative and selling your craft.

How do you sell your products without being “salesy”? How do you talk about yourself and your business up without appearing arrogant or pushy? How do you present the best of yourself, without appearing fake, but also without revealing a bit too much? How do you stay true to your craft, passion, talent, without selling out in the name of money, popularity or competition?

Is your ambition authentic to your craft, or will you go after anything in the quest for more sales? I get asked a lot whether a particular brand can expand into a new product area or market. The answer is almost always yes, but does it still feel authentically like you, like an extension of your brand? That’s the thing that can be challenging, but ultimately makes you feel like your business is still your business.

At a basic level, the idea of a false conversation with someone, or pretending to be someone I’m not, makes me want to tear my hair out. Actually, it makes me lose enthusiasm, passion, energy just thinking about it. Bleurgh!

So here’s the thing:

To grow your business in a way that’s sustainable and stable, it needs to include authenticity. It needs you to be honest about what’s imperfect, what’s real and what’s not.

If being authentic feels important to you, work out what that means. What makes you feel most like you? What makes your business feel like your business, and not someone else’s? What’s so unique to your brand that you can’t do without it?

And an important note: being authentic doesn’t mean you share every single thought you have on social media. It doesn’t mean you purposefully hurt someone because you don’t like them. It means saying no, steadily and surely, and walking away from the things that don’t resonate.

This week, in all the crazy school holidays, Christmas planning and general life, I hope you’re able to find a moment to think about authenticity and the part it plays in your business.

optin-cup

Enter The Forge

Life's too damn short to chase someone else's definition of success. I'm here to give you the courage and tools to forge your own path.