You don’t need a content strategy, you need content therapy
“This isn’t content coaching, this is f*cking content therapy.”
Someone said this to me in a tiny conference room inside what was once IMPACT HQ in Wallingford, Connecticut, a few years ago. (Hi, Chris. I’m sorry it took meeting you three times that summer to remember I had already met you … twice.)
The soul-sucking marketer in me loved the label.
“Content therapy.” It’s fun. It’s catchy.
I even used it going forward to refer to content coaching I did with internal thought leaders for a few years.
But the actual human being behind that soul-sucking marketer — and the countless layers of talk tracks about revenue and ROI and sales enablement and brand awareness — didn’t really like it. I say that in the past tense (“didn’t”), as if I don’t mean that right now, at this moment, in the present tense.
Even knowing where I’m going in writing this, I’m a petulant little malcontent who wants to scream, “I still don’t like it.”
As someone who has shoveled many thousands of dollars to credentialed and certified therapists over the years — because this six-foot-tall spotlight dweller may or may not have a baker’s dozen’s worth of trust, validation, and ego issues — I’ve always felt uncomfortable appropriating it for something like marketing.
Therapy is real and meaningful and changes people’s lives.
Content therapy … no, it’s not the same thing.
Annoyingly though, content therapy is exactly what I do
Do I create content strategies? Yes. Can I write money-making content in my sleep? 100%. Am I equipped to help companies unsuck their content operations, or stand them up if they're entirely absent? Definitely, one of my favorite clients I’m working with right now has me doing just that.
That list goes on and on — training, brand messaging, etc. Hi, I’m Liz Murphy, the little content Swiss Army Knife, at your service.
However, and I say this with deep apologies to Dr. Nash, my current therapist, I’m not a content strategist or a copywriter. I’m a content therapist.
(And I’m just going to sneak this other apology in here super quick; Dr. Nash, I also did not go to the gym today like I said I would, and we can unpack that next week. I’m sorry.)
Ever since I started down this unexpected career path of living, breathing, sleeping, huffing content when I was laid off from a publisher in 2014 and landed at Quintain Marketing, one thing has remained abundantly clear to me:
When it comes to content, everyone needs a therapist first before they need anything else.
Our relationship with content is laughably messy
Yet we pretend it isn’t.
We’ve literally built an entire industry around content, with an unimpeachable mandate:
“Content is how you move brands, ideas, and visions forward. Oh, and make money. Get on board with content, or enjoy becoming irrelevant and poor.”
But we completely ignore that virtually everyone is struggling (often in deeply painful ways) to get content right, and it’s not getting any better.
I’ve spent years working closely with executives, content creators, subject matter experts, thought leaders, and some of the most inspiring and truly visionary people you could ever meet. They’re masters of their craft. They rule their domain. They are on fire when they’re doing the work they’re meant to be doing.
But when you drop any kind of “content” bomb in their path, the red flags start flying and they shut down or deflect, as they frantically try to find an escape route.
“I can’t make that interview. I have too much real work to do. Can’t someone else do it? Something else came up. My hamster has a blowout appointment, and we’ve already canceled twice. I’m sorry, I just need more time to look at this. Can you get back to me in 3 months?”
Or my favorite is when someone preaches, “We’re here to be bold, kick ass, take names, and be disruptors in our given spaces or industries!” … only to willfully choose conformity and safe ideas the moment they get cold feet.
Now, in some cases, that’s indicative of a buy-in issue with content overall. Someone doesn’t see the value, which is a whole other conversation for another day.
In many cases, however, I’ve witnessed first-hand how the mere idea of content — even with the most “bought-in” folks — is a polarizing lightning rod that surfaces a dazzling array of neuroses, insecurities, and deeply rooted fears.
Admit it, content creates anxiety for you in some way
When I talk to business leaders, agency owners, experts, thought leaders, and even some of the most seasoned creators, content is the one area of their brand where they feel nervous or insecure — like the ultimate imposter syndrome catalyst.
Well, that’s if they haven’t already branded themselves a “content failure,” because they just don’t have the ability to make it happen like they should.
How many of you feel that way right now?
When you’re in front of clients, you kill it.
When you’re on sales call with a prospect, you come alive talking about your purpose or what problems you solve.
When you’re on stage, your fire flows out of you with unstoppable velocity and undeniable magnetism.
When you’re in your zone of genius, you can move fucking mountains with your presence, your ideas, and your words.
Even when you’re in the weeds, just doing the work when no one is looking, you can still feel that scorching radiance that only shows up because you’re totally in flow.
But the instant you think about the word “content,” part of you shuts down. Your light gets dimmer. Or, more accurately, you dim your own light intentionally like someone who’s late on their rent and doesn’t want the landlord to know they’re home.
Content represents your perceived failures and greatest fears
When content comes up, it becomes an invisible Scarlet Letter “C” reminding you that, even though everyone else thinks you’re an absolute rockstar at what you do, some part of that narrative is entirely fraudulent.
Content is the dad who didn’t show up to your softball games when you were a kid. Content is the one girl in grade school who told you that you dressed funny, and you’ve never gotten over it. Content is the one blowhard who publicly contradicted you during a meeting to shut down your idea and tell you that you’re wrong. Content is the person you picture in your mind when you’re afraid of disappointing someone.
Content is the version of yourself you hate the most; even if that version of you is based on negative self-talk, which isn’t based in reality whatsoever. Content is the picture of you during your “bangs” phase in 2002 that you wish the internet would forget.
Content is everything you’re doing wrong, broadcast in vibrant technicolor for everyone to see.
You shouldn’t struggle to articulate your “why,” who you serve, and how you do that better than everyone else. But you do.
You shouldn’t struggle to create content that answers your buyers’ most pressing questions, so you can close more deals faster. But you do.
You shouldn’t struggle to say an honest-to-goodness opinion without worrying that someone *gasp* will disagree with you in public, on the internet. But you do.
Intellectually, you know you’re not the worst. But it feels that way sometimes.
This also applies to you business and agency owners, by the way
If you thought I was merely targeting the individual, the thought leader, the content creator staring at a blank document mocking them, you would be wrong. I’m coming for you too, but I promise it’s out of love.
For you business owners out there
No one needs to tell you content is the problem you need to solve within your organization:
You need to hire the right people
You have the right people, but you don’t know how to train them
You need processes, whatever they might be
You need marketing to actually enable sales (not just know how to spell “sales enablement”)
Actually it would be great if marketing and sales just stopped fighting entirely
You need to trust your content strategists are actually creating strategic strategies
You know content should be a revenue-generator, but you don’t know how to make it stop feeling like a very costly expense
You need to get your content act together, because you’re already behind
But you haven’t done any of that yet. Or maybe you have, but your efforts are creating brand new, intensely annoying, and utterly mystifying problems to replace the ones you just solved.
And your people still aren’t happy, by the way.
And my beloved agency owners … yikes
For many of you (particularly in the inbound and HubSpot space), content is one of the most important elements of the services you offer.
I’d also wager content is one of your greatest sources of pain:
Clients don’t want to show up for interviews
And then those same clients complain that you aren’t delivering content with the depth of expertise required
Clients love every deliverable you create, except content
High-performing marketers create mediocre content for clients
High-performing marketers then leave because their job hurts and they can’t fix it
You don’t want to create the content in-house for a website project, but your clients don’t want to do it either
A client wants to create the content, but they’re bad at it and/or they don’t deliver on time
You don’t know who to hire to make content suck less in your agency
You know who to hire but you don’t know how to train them
And that’s only the beginning of your content woes … but how can you say any of that out loud, if you’re even willing to admit it to yourself? You deal in content, and one of your biggest challenges is content?
These undeclared content problems and insecurities are the most insidious.
Even if the top-level needs a client comes to me with are obvious and more transactional in nature — a content strategy, content strategist training bootcamps, a brand messaging deck, brand voice and tone guidelines, you name it — 99% of the time there’s a very human, fear-based, undeclared problem (or five) we’ll have to address before I can deliver what I’ve been paid for.
Put another way, I’ll tell you what I told Austin at Delta Marketing Group earlier today …
Content is like sex in a marriage
When you think “content is the problem,” you’re almost always wrong. Just like intimacy issues cropping up slowly or out of nowhere, these “problems” are actually symptoms of bigger more uncomfortable problems you’ve tried to ignore and, joke’s on you, you can’t do that forever!
Again, like sex, content is where every single fear, insecurity, lack of accountability, self-awareness gap, missed task, or tough conversation you’ve avoided having (because “the right moment hasn’t presented itself”) will come out to play.
Before I can create your brand messaging, we need to wrestle with the fact you don’t have consensus or clarity on who you’re selling to … or what it is you actually do.
Before I can help you build that sales enablement strategy, we need to address the elephant in the room — your sales and marketing folks do not trust each other or see themselves as being on the same team; a few cases studies aren’t going to help that.
Before I can help you create content that is a magnet for your ideal buyers, we need to address how you’re out of touch with what your buyers actually need from you or how you need to show up for them. And that your fear of losing the sale or being “too helpful” is making it harder to trust and buy from you, not easier.
Before I can help you bring in the right content nerds and establish the processes you need to unsuck content, you first need to be honest about where things have gone wrong and not tear yourself down because you’ve failed to solve it on your own. (And we might also have to tackle your issues with letting go of control.)
Before I can help you bring your thought leadership to life by helping you clarify your ideas and your words and your purpose and your stories to the point where they’re so powerful you develop your own gravitational pull, you’ve got to admit you’re scared. And you can’t shut down every time I call you out on pulling your punches with your ideas when you should be running through walls.
This list is never-ending, but here’s another one, just for fun:
Before I can help you make your website straight-up catnip for your ideal clients, we need to get over your fear of talking about cost. Your prospects have the internet — if you refuse to give them that information, they’re going to go skipping off to a competitor who will.
You get my point.
So, here I am … your friendly, neighborhood content therapist
Ugh.
To every person who has screamed, haggled, “reasoned,” advised, and/or otherwise pushed me to just lean into this whole content therapy thing, I hope you’re happy.
You were right, and I’m mad about it. Congratulations.
To everyone else, look … I want to help you and I’m here for the mess. I say that because solving content problems is a messy act.
You’ve gotta be that drunk chick at the bar
You know who I’m talking about. The one who’s loud, loves screeching Journey, and is hellbent on finding her missing tube of Burt’s Bees. So, she makes everyone pick up their drinks so she can dump out her entire purse to find it.
You need to attack content the way I repeatedly attacked my Malibu Rum-soaked searches for lip balm in various Ft. Lauderdale bars up and down A1A while making questionable life and fashion choices as a 24-year-old. That’s the level of tenacity you need to have about content.
You’ve gotta do the work.
Because the payoff for that level of focus and willingness to be brutally honest about the problems you have — and doing the work necessary to unpack all of it — is so sweet:
You can spark movements.
You can build communities.
You can help people and organizations solve real problems, not imagined ones.
You can speak truth to power.
You can make someone who feels isolated feel seen, heard, and understood.
You can make someone see you really are different than everyone else.
You can be an advocate for those who can’t speak for themselves.
You can simply keep your clients happy and help them achieve their goals.
You can make it easier to achieve your goals, so you can keep the lights on within your business (and your people employed).
Content isn’t a commodity.
Content can be your superpower if you let it.
We just need to talk about your daddy issues first.
