I clicked send on Thursday evening and immediately panicked.
Not because I’d sent the wrong thing to the wrong person – though we’ve all done that before, haven’t we? But because I’d just delivered a brutally honest review of someone’s website and promotional materials, and the little voice in my head was already whispering the usual nonsense: too much, too blunt, who the hell do you think you are. opens in a new tab
Thirty years in this game, and I still doubt myself every single time.
The Email That Knocked Me Sideways
Then Friday morning arrived, and so did Sarah’s reply.
Not just “thanks, got it” – a proper message. The kind that stops you mid-scroll and makes you read it twice. She told me she’d braced herself for the sting, but it never came. That my words felt intentional, helpful, heart-led. That my feedback “oozed expertise and experience” and left her excited – actually excited – to start making changes.
That floored me.
In a good way…
Why This Matters
Feedback is tricky. Done badly, it can be crushing. Done well, it opens doors. But the space between those two outcomes is thinner than people think, and most of us who do this work walk that line constantly – hoping we’ve pitched it right, terrified we’ve overstepped. opens in a new tab
Sarah’s message reminded me why I obsess over tone and clarity when I write reviews. Because the goal isn’t to sound clever or tear something (or someone) apart. It’s to help someone see what’s possible – to show them how a few shifts in focus, structure, or wording can turn their website into something that actually works for them, not just sits there looking pretty. opens in a new tab
And hearing that the intention landed exactly as I’d hoped? That’s everything.
What Happens Next
And now it looks like we’re meeting next week – Sarah, her office manager Clare, and me. They want to get stuck in, make the changes, turn the feedback into action. Clare will handle the technical side, Sarah will bring her ideas and delivery magic, and I’ll guide them through the process.
Honestly, I’m buzzing about it. Not just because it’s a brilliant project, but because moments like this are why I still do this work. They remind me that maybe – just maybe – I know what I’m doing after all. opens in a new tab
So thank you, Sarah. You’ve not only made my week, you’ve given me permission to believe in my own voice again. And that’s worth more than you know.
