Ever wondered how you can lose a client without making a single mistake? Well, pull up a chair — or better yet, imagine a quiet camping spot — because I’ve got a story.
Life has been properly busy. The kind that leaves you wondering if you’ve accidentally signed up for a marathon without telling anyone. Most of December was a blur of work, with only a short, inadequate break squeezed in — certainly not enough to feel fully rested.
By January, we were tired — really tired. Not “I need a nap” tired, but the kind where your brain feels like it’s been wrung out like a soggy dishcloth, and even making small decisions feels like lifting weights.
So we did what we always do when we need to reset.
We started looking at a camping break:
Not peak season
Not crowds
Clean ablutions
Well-priced
A place where we could just show up, pitch a tent, and exist without anyone asking for something extra.
The appeal of a zero-demand holiday
When we take a break, one of our non-negotiables is a zero-demand environment.
- No pressure to participate.
- No expectation to “make the most of it.”
- No subtle nudges toward plans or activities.
- No sudden decisions you’re expected to make.
Tiredness amplifies everything. Even small choices can feel like moving mountains. So the simpler and quieter the setting, the more restorative the experience becomes. Wake when you wake, make coffee, potter around a bit, nap, eat something, nap again, eat something more, look at the stars, go to bed, repeat. Oh, and add a little birdwatching and a decent glass of wine, and you’ve basically nailed the reason for going.
A familiar place, slightly different energy
We reached out to a camping spot we’ve been to many times. Peaceful, simple, perfect at being exactly what it is — a place where there’s not a whole lot to do, which is a feature, not a flaw.
Since our last visit, it’s changed management, and prices have increased. Not outrageous, but noticeable enough to make you pause. Still, we liked the place, so I sent a short, low-commitment enquiry:
Hi, just curious to know your camping rates at the moment. Potentially interested in staying on these dates.
Notice the word ‘potentially’. That’s doing a lot of work.
They replied with rates — all good. Clear, polite, informative.
And then came the follow-up:
Can we proceed with the booking?
Nothing rude
Nothing aggressive
Nothing technically wrong
And yet… something shifted.
The moment tone matters
That single sentence changed how I felt about the interaction.
Not because it was offensive. Not because it was wrong. But because it introduced pressure at the exact moment I was craving the opposite.
I hadn’t asked to book yet. I hadn’t decided if the price felt right. I was tired, looking for rest, and suddenly felt nudged — like a gentle shove when all you want is to sit still and do nothing.
When nothing is “wrong,” but something still goes wrong
Here’s the tricky part for business owners:
No mistake was made
No rule was broken
No red flags were raised
And yet, the emotional temperature changed. The interaction quietly moved from: “I’m exploring” to “I’m being nudged”.
People don’t usually push back. They don’t explain themselves. They quietly disengage. In our case, it didn’t mean we’d never return, but the chances of choosing that place this time dropped sharply — not because of price alone, but because of how the exchange made us feel. That’s the danger zone: losing potential business without ever knowing why.
Desperation leaks — often unnoticed
Here’s the uncomfortable confession: I’ve done this too.
I’ve followed up too quickly. I’ve sounded a little too eager. I’ve let urgency seep in when cash flow was tight. Not maliciously. Not consciously. Just… with too much energy in the wrong direction.
Desperation doesn’t always shout. Often, it whispers: it assumes. It nudges. It pressures, even when you think you’re being polite.
The quiet branding lesson hiding in plain sight
This isn’t really about camping. Or pricing. It’s about tone as part of your brand, especially in everyday communication: emails, messages, follow-ups.
A slightly softer approach could have landed very differently:
“Let us know if you decide to go ahead.”
“Happy to help if you’d like to book.”
“No rush — just shout if you need anything.”
Those small changes keep doors open without pushing anyone through them.
A simple pause before you hit send
For small business owners (myself included), here’s a practical self-check before sending a follow-up:
Am I inviting, or am I assuming?
Does this message give the other person space?
If I were tired, would this feel supportive — or pushy?
Am I okay if they don’t reply immediately?
Sometimes, the best move isn’t another message. It’s a pause. A breath. A little restraint.
Because the businesses people come back to are the ones that made them feel calm, respected, and unhurried — especially when they needed it most.
If this resonates with you, or if you’ve been on either side of a similar interaction, we’d love to hear your thoughts. Drop a comment below and share your experience.