“We neither of us perform to strangers.”
—Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice
Have you ever had to perform for strangers? Did you enjoy it? Is it easy and natural for you, or something you dread?
I’m thinking back to my 7th-grade spring piano recital. For years, I begged my parents for piano lessons—almost as relentlessly as the kid in Where the Red Fern Grows pleaded for his hound dogs. He drove his poor parents to tears!
Well, after proving my determination by teaching myself with a beginner book and a tiny keyboard, I finally got those lessons. And just like that kid and his dogs, I was proud of my hard work and so grateful. I even surprised myself with how much I accomplished that first year. It was fun. I loved it. But then I realized—I wasn’t just doing it for myself.
I had to perform. For other people.
All these years later, I still think about that recital with a mix of horror and pride. It was hard, but I got through it. And now, as I take on something new, I catch myself feeling the same way—like I’m back on that stage under the glare of a thousand spotlights (there probably weren’t any), while the whole world waits for me to sink or swim.
Today, I really want to swim.
I’ve been tasked with reinvigorating an agency that needs attention, encouragement, and maybe even a little poke in the side. Our clients count on us for valuable, high-quality content. Our employees depend on the company’s success. I need to perform well—not for my own recognition, but because others are relying on me.
We all know those people who love the spotlight. They thrive on every opportunity to showcase their talents. I admire great orators, actors, leaders—people who step onto the stage of their world, however big or small, and unapologetically declare, “I’m here! I’m worth your attention!”
But awkward, 7th-grade me—in my brand-new floral polyester dress (below the knees, of course)—was not that person. And if I’m being honest? She still isn’t.
Yet, some things just have to be done. Then and now.
And for those of us whose natural tendency is to whisper to a neighbor rather than shout to a crowd, we have to find a way to captivate our audience while staying true to ourselves.
That’s really what Mr. Darcy meant in Pride and Prejudice when he told Elizabeth Bennet they had something in common: “We neither of us perform to strangers.” At this point in the book, Darcy is beginning to admire Elizabeth—despite her “reprehensible relations.” One thing he sees in her is that, like himself, she doesn’t shape-shift to suit other people’s expectations. She remains unapologetically herself in a world that expected women (and men) to fit a mold.
Sound familiar?
In business, as in life, we all face this challenge. We have to perform for strangers—but we shouldn’t perform to them. We have to take the stage, stand in the spotlight, and share what we offer. But we have to do it genuinely. That starts with knowing who we are, what we stand for, and what makes us unique.
So ask yourself: What is it that makes you tick? What are your brand’s values, mission, and ethos? What motivates you to get up every day and do what you do?
This is where partnering with a company like Audience Ops makes all the difference. We don’t just churn out content—we dig deep to understand who you are first. That way, we help you create content that is aligned with your values, speaks authentically to your audience, and—most importantly—sounds like you.
And like anything worth doing, this takes time, energy, and consistency. You probably already know that—but you may struggle with one (or all three) of those components. You’re big enough to know content matters but busy enough to know you can’t do it alone.
Enter AO, stage right.
We provide high-quality, consistent content so you can focus on higher-level strategy. No chasing freelancers. No missed deadlines. No feeling like a number in some massive agency pipeline. Your success matters to us, and we’ll prove it with real attention and reliable results.
That night, despite my nerves, I actually played Für Elise fairly well—and even won “Most Improved” that year.
And while I dreaded the stage because I feared the judgment of others, once it was over, all I saw was the pride and love of my family and friends. They weren’t there to critique my performance. They genuinely cared. They wanted me to succeed. They wanted me to be myself.
So, are you ready to take the stage and be unapologetically yourself? Your audience is waiting.
They may just be strangers for now, but with a bit of gumption and the right team alongside you, you may surprise yourself at how much you can captivate and inspire. And by being consistently, reliably yourself, their attention grows into meaningful relationships that last.
The kind of relationships that look less like performing to strangers and more like performing for friends. And you can’t get more authentic than that.
