Hey {{first_name}},

Yesterday I told you about finally claiming my authority. Drawing a line in the sand. No more waiting to be "successful enough."

This morning someone messaged me with cold feet about my programme.

"Does it work for other platforms besides LinkedIn?"

Old me would have created a workaround. Written three paragraphs about how they could adapt it. Probably offered to customise it for them.

I sent this instead:

"I understand. It's a LinkedIn program. LinkedIn works if you put in the effort and hours on the right things. The choice is yours - you have until the 31st to secure your spot."

Then I sat there staring at "delivered" under my message.

Four minutes passed. Then ten. Then twenty.

They still haven't replied.

And I realised something that made me laugh out loud in my kitchen.

I don't actually care if they reply.

The relief feels almost illegal. Like I've broken some unwritten rule about accommodating every request and monitoring every response for validation.

I'd been asking myself "what does this make me look like?" with every business decision.

Now I'm asking "what do I actually offer?"

The answer is simpler than I thought. I help people build authority on LinkedIn. That's what I'm brilliant at. That's what works.

Someone wants help with Instagram? There are Instagram experts for that.

The goosebumps from yesterday have settled into something quieter. A steady knowing that my simple, specific, unapologetic approach already works.

I just had to stop apologising for what it doesn't do.

That treasure I mentioned yesterday was never about finding more. It was about claiming what's already there and saying "this is what I have, take it or leave it."

Some will leave it.

And that's the most freeing realisation of all.

Talk tomorrow, Jack

P.S. - The person with cold feet might still buy. Or they might not. The breakthrough is that my morning continues either way. When did you last say no without adding "but maybe we could..."?