If you’re working on an offer and feel unsure whether it’s the right one to commit to, post it below. I’ll review offers in public and help tighten: - What you’re actually selling - The promise vs what the market likely hears - Where clarity or trust breaks - The single change that would increase certainty This is not copywriting. This is not funnel advice. This is offer diagnosis. HOW TO POST YOUR OFFER Please include only the following: Offer name: Who it’s for: Webpage or google doc: Offer details I’ll respond in-thread so everyone can learn. If you’ve ever thought, “This should be working better than it is,” post your offer below.

It’s not because you don’t have dead leads. It’s not because you don’t know how to follow up. It’s because sending the message forces emotional risk. Hitting send means facing three uncomfortable possibilities: They reply yes. They reply no. Or they confirm what you’ve been avoiding — silence. So most people delay. They call it timing. They call it not wanting to spam. But what they’re really avoiding is resolution. Alex Hormozi says the person who wins is the one who cares most about the end user. Not the one who wants the sale most. The one who wants the outcome most. That distinction matters in outreach. If you reach out to help someone finish a decision they already started, you’re aligned with them. If you reach out because you want their money, they feel it instantly. Same message. Different intent. Very different result. This is where most “dead lead follow-up” breaks. Helping sounds like: “I was reviewing old conversations to see which ones still deserved attention. On ours, did you decide to move forward, pause, or drop it?” Selling sounds like: “Hey, just checking back in — wanted to see if you’re still interested.” One helps them resolve an open loop. The other tries to manufacture urgency. People don’t ghost help. They ghost neediness. The quiet truth is this: Recovery works when you care more about their clarity than your conversion. That’s not moral advice. It’s a sales advantage. And it’s why restraint beats scripts every time. If closing old dead leads in the next 60 days actually matters to you, comment “60.” I’ll share the 3 Step Dead Lead Formula.

My seven-year-old slips into the pool like he belongs there. No hesitation. No noise. The water meets him and he relaxes into it, as if it’s always known his name. When I was twelve, my friends used to swim every summer in a freezing river near my home in Waterford, in the south of Ireland. They took lessons. They learned properly. I didn’t. I announced, loudly and proudly, that I’d teach myself. No classes. No help. Just bravado. The kind that sounds strong at twelve and looks stupid in hindsight. Fast forward four decades. I can swim. Technically. But I’m cautious. Awkward. Always aware of my limits. My son, on the other hand, started swimming at six months old. No ego. No declarations. Just repetition, guidance, and time in the water. At seven, he’s a better swimmer than I’ll probably ever be. And that’s the point. Talent didn’t beat me. Fear didn’t beat me. Time didn’t beat me. Pride did. I confused independence with strength. Avoidance with courage. Saying “I’ll figure it out” with actually doing the work. Watching him glide past me in the pool isn’t embarrassing. It’s clarifying. The lesson wasn’t about swimming. It never was. It’s about how many things we’re still bad at, not because we can’t learn, but because once upon a time we decided we wouldn’t. To this day, I still catch myself saying, “I can do it myself.” But now I hear it differently. Not as strength. As a choice. Because the real difference between me and him was never talent or timing. It was willingness. Willingness to be guided. Willingness to learn out loud. Willingness to let someone else into the water. And once you see that, you can’t unsee it. I’ve watched the same pattern play out in business. Founders say “I’ll figure it out myself,” and quietly pay for it in time, money, and momentum. You’re not stuck with what you can or can’t do. You’re standing in front of a choice. And suddenly the question changes. Not “Can I do it myself?” But “Why would I want to?”