Other times, we take an easier approach: we mine our social media feeds or email for instances where happy clients have told us we’re great and splash those comments where the rest of the world can see we’re great: front and center on our website, social media profiles, or print marketing materials. It’s the easiest, most fail-proof way to garner social proof.

It’s also unethical.

The only time it is appropriate to display a compliment about your work in your marketing materials (website, Twitter feed, Facebook business page, etc.) is if you have the consent—preferably written—of the person who gave you the compliment. That’s it. Otherwise, you’re saying this person publicly endorses you when the truth very well may be that they don’t.

But isn’t a compliment a public endorsement?

Nope. When someone compliments you, they’re simply acknowledging (in this case) your talent or skill in a certain area. That’s hugely different from a public endorsement, which says, Hey, I’ve tried it. It worked for me. I stand behind those results and don’t mind putting my name and reputation on the line to defend it.

It’s the difference between a person agreeing to date you and being willing to confess their undying, sho’nuf til death-do-us-part loyalty in a church before 500 of your closest friends. They might think you’re a great catch, but they’re not digging you like that. Yet.

Here’s the easy, legit way to get yourself recommended and publicly endorsed

“Hi Sam. We’ve worked on a few projects together and we really click. Would you mind doing a quick write-up of your experience working with me (my ability to meet deadlines, easy-going personality, ability to quickly grasp concepts) that I can display on my LinkedIn profile (or new website, or Facebook business page, or whatever)? Thanks for your help. Let me know if you have questions.

Once that person says, “Sure, no problem. Here you go,” you’re clear. Splash that public endorsement all over the place you said you would. Until then, accept the compliment for what it was—confirmation that yes, you’ve got skillz—and move on.

Last night during the debate, Perry said that if elected president, he would cut three federal agencies. He named two, then stumbled and stammered as he tried to remember the third. When the other republican candidates chimed in to save him, everyone, including Perry, laughed to bring levity to the awkwardness of the moment. When the moderator asked Perry to reiterate the three agencies he’d cut, he named two, only to admit–yet again–that he could not remember the third. No one was laughing this time.

I can only imagine that Perry wanted to crawl and hide beneath the podium in front of him. I wanted to hide for him.

Before you can confidently state your case in any situation, you must first be clear. Clarity is more important to excellent expression than the words you choose, your ability to turn a phrase, your wit, or your charm. If you’re not clear—first, in what you want to say and second, in how you say it—it doesn’t matter how photogenic, attractive, articulate, or poised you are. You’ll come off sounding, and looking, like an idiot. End of story.

It’s time to pull the plug on television debates for Rick Perry. Clearly, live debates are not his strength. Perry’s crisis communications team and PR people either need to coach him to make sure he’s clear on where he stands on the issues and what he wants to say before he takes the stage, or persuade him to step down, to remove himself from the race and save us all the embarrassment of watching this man continue to make a fool of himself.

Fumbling and stumbling during one debate is understandable; it might even be funny and can be chalked up to nerves. But failing to remember what you want to say or being unable to clearly express yourself every single time you’re asked to state your case is inexcusable. For the President of the United States, all the world is a stage. Perry’s camp needs to do the right thing and convince him to clear the way for someone who at least exhibits the ability to command it.

I thought that way for a long time, until I noticed a pattern: each time I came up for a raise or promotion, I was passed over. Those always went to the people who were the most vocal about their accomplishments (and often, it seemed to me, the most obnoxious). These people consistently voiced their opinions during staff meetings; they repeatedly volunteered projects; and they went to great lengths to make sure all the managers knew about their current or next big assignment.

In my naivete, I called them all the derogatory terms we associate with people who talk openly about their accomplishments: butt kissers, brown-nosers, and egomaniacs. I even justified their promotions by saying that they must have been in cahoots with management. Now that I’m self-employed (and oh, so much wiser), I realize those people weren’t braggarts; they were master self-promoters.

Self-promotion v. bragging

Self-promotion is a dirty phrase for those of us who were taught that talking about ourselves is bragging. Not so. Bragging means you inflate your sense of self by looking down on others. Self-promotion, on the the other hand, means you’re confident in and willingly articulate, your skills, talents, and ability to make a viable contribution to something bigger than yourself. And it’s absolutely vital if you want to make an impact in business, at work, or any other area where your success or failure depends on people knowing who you are and what you stand for.

If, like most people–especially women–you wrestle with promoting yourself, it’s time to get over it. Here are five, easy ways to help you get comfortable tooting your own horn.

• It’s not bragging if other people ask. Bragging is telling other people how great you are when they haven’t asked. Answering their question by promoting your assets is self-promotion. For example, if a hiring manager asks, “Why should I hire you?” a confident self-promoter would say something like, “There are several reasons. Here are the top three.

• Talk about results. There’s no shame in the truth. Did you consistently make record sales in your last job? Are you a spectacular networker who has a knack for connecting people? If so, say it. If you can back up your statements with numbers and concrete results, you’re not bragging. You’re merely talking about what you’ve already done.

• Let other people brag for you. Do clients rave about the results you’ve achieved for them? Did previous employers say you were an indispensible part of the team? Own those compliments. Letting other people brag about you is one of the easiest ways to overcome the potentially icky feeling that you’re bragging. Try it. The next time someone says, “So, tell me about yourself,” think about what those who know you best would say, and respond with something like, “Clients tell me I’m the most down-to-earth CPA they’ve ever met.”

• Find a cause and promote it. This works especially well if you’re self-employed. Find a cause you’re passionate about, and use your platform to move it forward. For example, as a writer, I’m passionate about education and literacy. If I’m reluctant to talk about myself, I can find an organization that supports either of those issues and write blog posts, articles, or speak to groups about the topic. I’m still getting my name and company in front of prospective clients, but I’m able to take the emphasis off of promoting “me” and still make a difference for an important organization.

• Feel the fear and do it anyway. The only way through it is to do it. Think about what you do well, remember what others have said you do well, and be ready to talk about it when the occasion arises. Your next raise, promotion, or new client will likely depend on it.

Do you struggle with promoting yourself? How has that fear kept you from getting ahead? Share your thoughts in the comments below or on Facebook.

Rarely do you find the person who can eloquently, simply state what they’d like you to do and why.

Recently, I received an email from someone who needed my help, but struggled with this very issue. This individual had assembled a team of professionals to create an innovative jobs initiative geared toward the un- and under-employed. His email was a synopsis of the organization and a couple of documents he had prepared, with the intention of securing a federal grant. He asked how I might be able to help.

I replied that the documents were well-written, but could use some minor editing. Once the organization received funding, there would be an opportunity for social media, press releases, media pitches, etc., but those should wait until the new company won a grant.

Simple, straightforward response, right? I thought so, until I received another email, along the lines of this: “Thank you for your feedback. Could you tell me which of those areas you’d be equipped to help with?”

**Crickets**

I re-read the response several times before it hit me: (potentially) grant-funded startup organized by highly-skilled, but (mostly) under- or unemployed individuals, looking for very cheap, or ideally–volunteer–help. Why hadn’t he said that in the first place?

Whenever you are reaching out to other people for help–whether for volunteer expertise, mentoring, funding, whatever—you absolutely cannot afford to be vague. Eloquently state your case and say what you mean. If you need free professional help, cut to it. Simply say something like this: “We’re trying to get funded, and while I’d love to pay your fee, we can’t afford it. Might you be willing to donate maybe ten hours a month to our organization in the area of your expertise?”

You have a 50/50 chance of your contact responding either way. If they say yes, you get want you want. If they say no, ask them to refer you to someone who might be able to help. Whatever you do, don’t waffle. Tell them what you need and know that you have a right to ask for it.

And in case you were wondering, I responded to the email by saying I’d be happy to help, for this here fee, thank you very much. To which my contact didn’t respond, because apparently, that wasn’t quite the answer he’d hoped for.

What about you? Do you freeze up when asking for what you want? Tell me in the comments below, or let’s talk about it on Facebook.

We both know why I signed up for your webinar in the first place: you wrote a slamming squeeze page that showed me you “get” the very thing that keeps me and others like me up at night. You spoke my language, seemed to read my mind, and promised to do what no other service provider has been able to do so far: solve my problem. Give me peace of mind. Make the pain go away.

Simply put, I signed up for your webinar because you. Get. Me.

So, then, why is it that when the time comes to dial in to your call I must spend the first 20 minutes of our 60 minutes together listening to you talk about…you?

Have you tuned into a webinar lately? If so, you know too many of them start something like this:

“Hi. I’m Nichole, a copywriter and owner of Simply Stated Solutions. You know, I’m so grateful you’re here and I want you to know I have a wonderful lesson in store for you today. I truly believe that you have the power within to write attention-grabbing copy and attract all the money and clients you need to your business, and I’m going to show you how to do that in the 90 minutes we have together. But, before we get started, let me tell you a little about me…?”

(Raises hand) How about you don’t, and just cut to it, with something like:

“Hi. I’m Nichole, a copywriter and owner of Simply Stated Solutions. I’ve been writing for 15 years and help people get clear about their message and cut to the chase in their communications. We’ve got a lot to cover on today’s call, so let’s get started, shall we?”

Do I want to know more about you? Of course, I do. That’s why I appreciate the link you provided to your bio in the emails that preceded this webinar. And rest assured, if I didn’t have the chance to fully vet your credentials before this call, I will do so immediately after, especially if you demonstrate in your teaching that you really do “get” me. But for now? In the short time we have together? It needs to be about us, your listeners, and what you can do for us.

All the self-appointed marketing “gurus” agree. Focus on your listeners, not yourself, right off the bat. That’s the best way to show us that you understand us. Which also makes it the quickest, easiest way to turn us passive listeners into raving fans.

Try it. Before you do your next webinar, set a timer for five minutes. In that time, introduce yourself, give your listeners an outline for what you’re going to cover, and get to it. Sounds quick, but that’s more than enough time for most people to decide if they’re going to stay with you or tune you out. Clock’s ticking. Make it count.

I know this works, because not only have I obtained clients, but I’ve also established wonderful, real-life personal and professional relationships with people via social media. Most of the time, doing so involved little more than sending a simple email to someone I wanted to connect with and setting aside time to chat via phone or, if they lived locally, inviting them out for coffee.

Easy enough, right? Almost always. But my latest attempt at “connecting?” Not so much.

Earlier today, I reached out to a writer whose work, I believe, is simply awesome. And by that, I mean it’s engaging, clever, powerful, and always dead-on. Most impressive to me is the fact that this writer creates work across multiple genres—online, print and broadcast—something very few writers do well.

So, I got the bright idea to contact her, via one of the social networking sites on which we (were) connected, to tell her how much I enjoyed her work. I took it a step further and asked her how she does it, where she gets her creativity, and what advice she would have for other writers wanting to maximize their talent. Hers was undoubtedly the rudest, most arresting 140-character response I’ve ever heard (I’ve never received a rude response from anyone I’ve reached out to): “Sharpen you mentoring request,” she answered.

And, lest I dare consider reframing my approach, she sent two more flippant messages to inform me that 1) she didn’t have time to waste “mentoring” me, and 2) (the real hum-dinger), if I really wanted to maximize my talents, I needed to “connect with God, do what you want to do.”

I’ll give you a minute to pick your jaw up off the floor.

Herein lies the risk in attempting to really connect via social media: you never really know if the person you’re engaging or interacting with is as they appear online or, in this case, something far worse. You really only know that after you make the effort to reach out. The writer in question is funny, smart, engaging, and dare I say, even encouraging, via her tweets. But take her offline, and I’ll call it like I see it: she’s an ass.

Maybe she had a bad day. Maybe her dog died. Maybe someone else tweets for her. No matter. There is simply never a reason to respond so rudely to a simple request to connect. Of course, everyone has the right to not want to connect via social media, and the proper way to decline such a request might go like this: “Thanks so much for the positive feedback. Unfortunately, I’m not going to be able to answer your questions. I wish you the best of luck.”

Or something to that effect. Just civil, decent, humane.

Funny the writer suggested I connect with God. Seems she’s the one who’s long overdue for her own “Come to Jesus” moment.

To connect implies that you have a meeting of the minds on some level. But to engage, or interact, doesn’t mean that at all.

It means only that you show up and let your voice be heard. You give those who follow you in social networks a taste of the way you see the world, even if that means you’re the only person in the room who’s brave enough to raise your hand and ask the one dumb question everyone else is thinking but too chicken to ask. When you do this, people may or may not connect with you, but when you show up and speak your truth, they have no choice but to interact—or react.

Case in point: the other night, I was hanging out on Twitter, as I normally do in the evenings. One of the people I follow there is Neal Boortz, an outspoken, crass, polarizing talk show host in Atlanta whose life mission is to demonize Democrats, especially President Obama. To be clear, I don’t follow Boortz because I agree with his politics; I follow him because I believe it’s important to know how other people think, especially when they stand against the things you stand for.

So, on Boortz went that night, ranting about how dismal a job the President is doing with the economy. After several, rapid-fire, Obama-bashing tweets, I’d had enough, so I chimed in: “Why don’t U just run for Pres since U have all the answers? Oh, wait. Then ppl will know you’re full of shit, too.”

Boortz didn’t respond. But what he did do was retweet, or pass along, my comments to his followers. Here’s just some of what I got back (all punctuation and grammar are exactly as they appeared in my Twitter feed):

“She appears to be pretty high brow with that language, but not all that well read it seems.”

“Neal, nichole is full of dog squeeze.”

“Classic example of a lib keepin’ it classy, lol! Implode much?”

“a copy writer accusses you of being full of shit, ha ha now that is creative writing huh! Jeez a copy writer.”

“Wow! Someone is PMS’in today.”

One person even took a jab at my hair. Now, you can criticize my politics all day long, but when you mess with my hair, all bets are off!

I’m kidding, of course. I didn’t respond to any of these comments, because doing so would have started a game of back-and-forth insults that would’ve done nothing to bring us any closer to seeing eye-to-eye.

But that exchange did give me pause and make me see how powerful a personal platform can be—and how necessary it is, especially in the digital world, where millions of voices clamor, but painfully few stand out—every day. Neal Boortz has done what too few venture to do in the social media space: take a stand, voice an opinion, state his truth—even at risk of isolating, insulting, or offending those who oppose him. And because of his willingness to take a stand—to lead—if you will, he has a chorus of raving fans who will chew you up and spit you out for standing against him.

That’s what it means to engage via social media. It means to risk not being the most popular person on the planet. It means being willing to be singled out and called to task for what you believe. That’s also precisely why so few people take that risk. Businesses don’t do it on their websites or in their marketing materials; that’s why you can surf the Web for hours and feel like you’ve read the same thing repeatedly (you have; it’s just titled differently). Individuals don’t do it on Facebook or Twitter, and they certainly don’t do it on LinkedIn.

We shrink and cower and hide behind a chorus of similar voices. I wrote about my own experience with being afraid to stand out in this post last year. But the thing is, people are looking for someone to take the lead—to do and say the things they themselves are afraid to do or say.

When the leader emerges and is attacked, he or she doesn’t have to say anything. Their bands of supporters will absorb the wrath in their place. At least, that’s what I learned a few nights ago, after my experience with Boortz’s cheerleaders.

And in case you were wondering, I did not unfollow Boortz, who goes by the Twitter handle @talkmaster. I rather enjoy his rants and musings. They remind me that there are a lot of kooks in the world, who need the voices of people like me to balance them out.

You are on Twitter, right? Follow me @nicholebazemore and let me have it anytime I say something that gets your goat! But be ready for pushback—I mean, engagement.

• 5 Ways to Conquer Fear
• 3 Things You Can  Do Right Now to Feel More Confident
• 10 Ways to Live Boldly and With Purpose

Okay, so maybe there aren’t a trillion articles like these, but there are enough floating around the Web to let us know one thing: everyone, regardless of his or her title, wealth, prestige, etc., is scared as hell on some level that they don’t or won’t measure up.

Sometimes, it manifests as arrogance cleverly disguised as overblown self-confidence. Sometimes, it manifests as workaholism. Other times, it manifests as self-sabotage, where we play small—or not play at all—and hide behind excuses like, “I’m not good enough,” or “I don’t know enough.”

Last week, I listened to a workshop on retooling one’s mindset delivered by Fabienne Frederickson, a master marketer and business coach. In the workshop, she dealt specifically with mindsets that hold us back in business and in life. One thing she said resonated loudly with me: “If we talked to our children the way we talk to ourselves, people would call social services on us.”

Wow. That not only made me think about what I say to myself when no one is listening, but it made me realize that people who get on with making a difference in the world don’t silence the self-defeating self-talk. I’m convinced they just move on, in spite of it.

Think back (you probably don’t have to think too far back) to a time when you came across the work of another expert in your industry. Maybe it was a speech they gave or an article they wrote or a comment they posted on a forum. Was everything they said on point, or did they get everything mostly right, except for an inconsistency or two? Did you think, while listening to or reading their information, “Duh! I could’ve said that!”?

The point here isn’t to point fingers; it’s to show that they forged ahead, regardless of whether their work was perfect, or despite what they were feeling, and despite whatever non-sensical self-doubt they might have been dealing with. Of course, you could’ve done it better, ’cause you’re awesome…Duh!

But you didn’t, because you were waiting for—pick your poison—the right time, more money, the right connection, to feel better, for your kids to go to sleep/school/leave home, everybody’s approval. To feel like you measure up.

How’s this for some poison? It ain’t gonna happen.

You will never feel like you measure up. None of us will. It’s the nature of being a spiritual being in a physical body.

All we can do is decide what we want to do, make a plan, put one foot in front of the other and get to work, and say the kindest, most loving, most nurturing things we can to ourselves to encourage us on our journey.

And if it’s any consolation, there will always be those trillion or so online articles promising to help us eradicate our fears—forever—if we just follow a few, easy steps.

Your turn: what do you say to yourself about yourself that you know you shouldn’t? And how to you get over it so you can “keep it moving?”  Let’s talk about it in the comments, or if you want to really put it out there, hop on over to my Facebook page and we’ll talk about it there, too.

Case in point, I was spying on other business owners doing some competitive research earlier today, when I came across a website that got my attention. The business owner, a writer, talked about how he was a “rock star” at what he did. Lest we doubt that the blood of Bono runs through his veins, he provided plenty of social proof—testimonials from happy clients—were sprinkled in between every few lines of website copy. I was caught up in his flow, bobbing along wave upon wave of hyped-up text, when suddenly, I choked on the following phrase: “My brilliance is unmatched.”

**Crickets**

Okay, now that you’ve finished choking, let’s carefully consider this phrase and discuss why it’s not only untrue and not confident, but obnoxious.

Your unique and perfect gift

Each of us was born with a unique gift or talent, something we do that—although second nature for us—blows the socks right off people who witness us do it. It might be singing or playing sports, acting or solving complex math problems. For me, it’s writing. But here’s the thing: neither you nor I am the only person on the planet who has this gift; there are millions of gifted singers, athletes, actors, mathematicians and writers. But it’s something about the way we do what we do that makes people take notice.

Our gift might make us awesome, or amazingly talented, or absolutely brilliant in some respect. But that awesomeness or talent or brilliance is not unmatched. Unmatched means, simply put, that no one on earth is as brilliant in a particular area as we. No one.

The writer in the example above didn’t get this. In using this phrase to describe his talent, he thought he was showing how superbly confident he is in his work. Unfortunately, he doesn’t sound confident. He sounds like an arrogant ass. Which brings me to my next point: do you know the difference between confidence and arrogance?

Confidence v. arrogance

Confidence sounds like this: “I am a highly intuitive writer. I really listen to my clients, so I can find the underlying message in their story. Clients say I read minds, but I know I just listen. Plus, I’m meticulously detailed, work super fast, and have never missed a deadline. I’m sure I’d be an asset to a high-production, high-stress business like yours.”

Confidence basically says we can all get along. It says that I can let my light shine, yet still appreciate yours, because I know it takes all types of people to make success happen. I don’t have to make myself feel “more than”  or make you feel “less than” in order to do my best work or prove I have value.

Arrogance, on the other hand, sounds like this: “I’m the best there is. Look at my work. You need my unmatched brilliance.”

Arrogance is the bastard stepchild of collaborative creation. It’s based on me. Me. Me. Me. Did I mention that it’s based on me? I don’t care what your real issue is. He-lloo? The real issue here? It’s me.

Now, it’s your turn. Think about your own communication style and ask yourself, are you truly confident, or are you arrogant? Has your confidence ever been mistaken for arrogance? Do you refrain from talking about your achievements for fear that others will think you’re arrogant?

Let us hear your thoughts about confidence versus arrogance, in the comments below.

Yeah, they do. Maybe it’s a nightmare boss who seems hell-bent on setting you up to fail by giving you more work than any human can handle. Maybe it’s that nagging co-worker, the one who, it appears, had her lunch money stolen every day from sixth grade through college and is getting her payback now—by tormenting you every. Chance. She. Gets. Or, maybe it’s an obnoxious client who can’t get it together and has you convinced he needs therapy more than your product or services.

Whatever the case, every person reading this post knows someone who simply works their nerves. And thanks to the immediacy and accessibility of technology and our ability to feel connected to and perhaps even prematurely familiar with strangers online, the impulse too often is to reach out—and vent our frustrations—to our peeps via social media.

Think about it: Who among us doesn’t stand a bit taller on our soap box or feel a  bit more vindicated in our outrage when we share a status update that garners multiple “likes” or “shares” by people who not only get us, but who also really feel our pain? And what fun would life and social media sharing be if we didn’t get to take part in a collective WTF? fest at least once a week, thanks to the latest celebrity gaffe or video on YouTube?

But no matter how irate you are, how slighted you feel, or how much you’re tempted to give someone the virtual middle finger via social media…don’t. It’s always a bad move.

But wait, you say. I’ll write about a client or co-worker and change their names, so they won’t know. Oh yeah, they will. Why? Because even the best laid plans to omit names and all identifying details of the guilty parties always fall short. Maybe your readers are just highly perceptive, psychic, or eerily paranoid. Maybe you just need to accept that anonymity does not exist online. So, those who know your business know exactly who you’re talking about and silently shake their heads because you’re airing your laundry in public. And those who don’t know who you’re talking about just think you’re a bitchy, mousy, passive-aggressive ass.

Social media exchanges cannot be erased. Conduct yourself accordingly.

Confronting your problem with another person is never easy, but when you do it correctly, you not only clear the air, but maintain your dignity, in the process. Here are three easy tips to help you resist the temptation to vent online, when a client or co-worker makes you want to go there.

Tell the person how you really feel, via phone or in person, because it can be difficult to determine a person’s tone via email. Clearly, simply state your concerns. But don’t stop there. Suggest ways to resolve your issue collaboratively. If your issue is with your boss, perhaps it’s time to renegotiate your job duties or talk about a raise or promotion. If it’s a petty co-worker, you might have to candidly discuss how you can work together effectively, without being best friends. If it’s a problem client, it might be time to part ways.

Get it all down on paper. Write a pointed, candid letter to the object of your irritation. Spare no details about how you feel. Curse. Suggest they play in traffic, if it helps you breathe easier. Write and vent until you feel better. Just. Don’t. Send. It.

Call a friend and vent. But not a co-worker, who could potentially rat you out to your boss or other co-workers. And if the friend is in your social media circles, make sure they have the good sense not to air your dirty business online.

Easier said than done? Perhaps. But is properly channeling and addressing your communication conflicts necessary in order to save your name and reputation? You betcha.

Because remember, while it feels good to have so many “friends” or “followers” and people in your “circles” who get where you’re coming from, you don’t want your online venting to become the object of someone else’s digital WTF? fest. You want to be the one who’s known for stating your case, working to resolve conflicts collaboratively, and keeping your head when those all around you seem to be losing theirs.

Now it’s your turn. How do you deal with people who make you want to go there? Tell us, in the comments below!