Last week I flew out to Southern California to visit my mom who’s going to be 91 years old in March. She’s had a few health challenges lately, most of which are under control. But my siblings and I realized that now is the time to step in and take over some of her day-to-day responsibilities. Like paying her bills.
So, while I was visiting, my mother and I needed to go to her bank, meet with the bank manager and create a checking account under both of our names. When we arrived, the manager greeted us, showed us to the soft, cushy chairs in front of her desk, offered us something to drink, and then said, “Just give me a few moments to finishing scanning a few documents.”
That’s when I said, “No problem.”
My mother’s lips tightened into a grimace. Her soft brown eyes turned coal black and pierced me with steely glare as she pounded her fragile fist into her right thigh and seethed, “Don’t say that! I just can’t stand it. I just can’t stand it.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
“That phrase, ‘no problem.’ I hate it when people use that phrase. I just hate it,” she said.
The funny thing is… I didn’t even realize I’d used that phrase. It’s become such an unconscious part of my lexicon that it flies out of my mouth without requiring any of my mental attention.
I sat down next to my mother and said, “It’s just an expression.”
“I know, but it’s awful. It’s so dismissive and disrespectful.”
“What should I say instead?” I asked.
“You should say something like, ‘It would be my pleasure.’”
For as long as I’ve known my mother, she’s been a loyal officer of the grammar police. She has an overly sensitive ear for bad grammar and other abuses of the English language. When we were young, she was always correcting us.
“It’s ‘Billy and I are going to the movies.’ Not ‘Billy and me.’”
“The correct grammar is, ‘Are these they?’ Not, ‘Are these them?’
She used to tell us that it physically hurt her ears to hear someone use bad grammar. As if someone was piercing her eardrums with an ice pick.
While the overly used phrase, “no problem” isn’t necessarily bad grammar, I can understand why it offends someone as verbally sensitive as my mother. It’s a lazy, negatively focused phrase that, when analyzed, means, “your request isn’t a problem or even a real concern for me.” Stated that way, it really is a rather rude and slightly arrogant way to respond to someone who’s either asked you a question, asked for your help, apologized or thanked you for something.
What my mother is dismissing through her abject hatred of that certain phrase is this: the intention behind the words.
I’m sure many people have told her, “no problem” with a sincere, heartfelt appreciation for the opportunity to serve her in some way. The bag boy who helped her out with her groceries. The hostess who sat her at a quieter table so she could hear better. When they responded to her request or thank you with that dreaded phrase, “no problem,” they were really saying “it’s my pleasure. You’re so welcome.”
Which brings us to the point of this story which is… your copy. Is it possible that you’ve alienated certain people with your word choices or turns of phrase? Have you used colloquialisms that make certain individuals furrow their brow, crinkle their nose or roll their eyes?
Maybe. But so what?
You can’t strip your copy of all and any expressions that might tick somebody off. I mean, who could imagine that an innocent phrase like “no problem” would turn my mother into a whirling dervish of disgust and irritation? Not me!
The bottom line is this: don’t sacrifice your voice, your message and your natural way of expressing yourself in some vain attempt to please and delight every single soul who may read your copy. People can find the oddest, obscurest reasons to take offense or get huffy. What’s important is your intention. Write with a clear intention. To communicate and connect with your audience. To deliver something of value. To be of service. And to be true to who you are.
Let your intention be your guide and your inspiration. Let your language rise up from that intention and inspiration. Let your you-ness flow into your words, without fear, without any need to protect yourself from the objections, reactions or sensitivities of a small handful of people.
If you bump into a phrase, section or word that makes you scratch your head and think, “Hmmm… I wonder if a certain kind of person would be offended by this?” then make a conscious choice to either leave it as is or change it. But don’t you dare strip out all of your quirks, colorful exclamations or personal turns of phrase.
What about profanity?
Again, a lesson from my mother on this one. You can find it here.
As I was traveling back home after visiting my mother, I thought a lot about this offensive phrase issue, and here’s what I realized.
If you’re consistently offering great value with good intentions, if you have a reputation for quality, reliability, courtesy and respect for your clients, then it doesn’t matter if you happen to use words or phrases that drive some people nuts. It doesn’t matter if you have mannerisms, habits or grammatical quirks that certain people find annoying. Because if you’re serving up high value content and offers your clients want and need, even those who are irritated by something in your copy will buy from you.
For example…. Marie Forleo.
When I first was introduced to marketing-genius and empire-builder Marie Forleo, I didn’t like her. She bugged me. There was something about her Jersey girl twang and I’m-a-babe attitude that turned me off. But did that stop me from watching her videos? No. Did it stop me from investing in her B-School program (one of the best investments I’ve ever made, by the way)? No.
Why? Because Marie was (and still is) consistently delivering high value information, information that was helpful to me. It was also perfectly clear that she cared about her clients and about making a positive impact in people’s lives. That was more than enough to win my interest and overcome my niggly little personality objections.
By the way, after taking B-School and witnessing Marie’s genius when coaching others, all of my petty judgments and inexplainable annoyances disappeared. Completely. I’m a true blue fan.
So, the moral of this story is… don’t sacrifice your natural voice and way of expressing yourself in your copy in an attempt to not offend anyone. You will drive yourself nuts, and your copy will be so dry, brittle and boring that no one will ever read it, much less be offended by it.
Your voice, your energy, your personality, your passion and even your expertise are in your word choices, your language, your natural self-expression. If you edit out your you-ness, you drain your copy dry of its power to influence and engage others.
The other moral of this story is… don’t say “no problem” in front of my mother. Not unless you have the inner armor to deal with one very pissed off 91-year old woman.