Going back through the recordings, I noticed that the moments people talked about most warmly were usually the ones that had gone wrong. A fumble on camera. An admission they'd put off for months. Those were the bits that made other people trust them.
The summit was One Conversation Away, which I ran from 29 July to 11 August 2019. Twenty-eight people each told me about one conversation that changed their life. Vulnerability was never meant to be the theme, but it kept turning up anyway, in stories that had very little else in common.
One guest ran an online fitness business. She realised that everything she posted was carefully angled to look perfect, so she started letting people see the parts she'd been keeping out of shot. People connected with that far more than with anything polished she'd put out before. Her view was that being vulnerable feels scary from the inside and looks brave from the outside. I think she's right. We judge our own honesty by how exposed we feel. Other people judge it by how much of themselves they recognise in it.
A filmmaker I spoke to had her own version of this on a live broadcast. Her first segment went badly, and afterwards she was in the bathroom swearing at herself. Then someone showed her the comments, and people were praising her for being real. A social media coach told me about her first big live to a large group, when her tablet fell over partway through and everyone was left staring at a lampshade in the corner of her room. She carried on, and people praised her for it. She said something I think is spot on. If you're too perfect, nobody will ever think they can be like you.
This matters in business, especially if what you sell involves helping people change. A business coach who used to run a health company told me he hid an old photo of himself from before he got fit, even from the woman he married, right up until they were engaged. For over a year he didn't mention his own change to clients. When he finally did, they related to him far more than to competitors who looked like they'd never struggled. And a former corporate consultant described his first high-paying client. He told them straight that the offer was brand new, and asked for their patience and feedback. They appreciated the honesty. He said it also freed him from the perfectionism he'd carried over from his corporate work.
But there's a catch, and it's the bit I'd pay most attention to. The fitness guest described it as sharing scars and keeping open wounds to yourself. She only shares things she's already processed, because raw criticism landing on something that's still raw can shatter you. When something is fresh, she jots the feeling down in shorthand on her phone so she can use it later, once it's settled.
I talked about this with another guest who now consults for businesses. My worry was people who pour things out online before they've dealt with them, then can't handle the replies. She added something I hadn't thought about. If you share a story before you've processed it and the response goes badly, it can reinforce the very belief that hurt you, something like "it isn't safe to be vulnerable". I'd say that leaves you further back than where you started. That's why I think it's worth having a private place for the raw version, whether that's notes on your phone or a video you never post.
The way I'd check it is whether you can tell the story without needing anything back from the people hearing it. If you're sharing it to get reassurance, it's probably still a wound. If you can tell it calmly, and someone else might get something from hearing it, it has probably healed enough to share.
What I took from this one
- Small mistakes on camera, like kit falling over, tend to earn goodwill if you just keep going.
- If you're selling something new, say so, and ask your first clients for feedback.
- Keep a private place for the raw stuff (phone notes, unposted videos) until it's settled.
- Before posting something personal, ask yourself whether you need a reaction from it.
