You're Not Being Inclusive. You're Disappearing.
Why your sharpest drafts keep going flat before you hit publish
She reads the draft. It was sharp when she started. Specific. She knew exactly who she was talking to.
Then she imagined her former colleague reading it. Her cousin who doesn’t get what she does. That guy who commented last time asking why she didn’t include his situation.
So she softened. Made room.
She was me.
The Pattern
By the time I’d hit publish, the piece sounded like it was written by committee.
Every edge filed down. Every hot take cooled off.
I called it “being inclusive.”
But the person who actually needed to hear it didn’t recognize herself in the writing and scrolled past.
What’s Actually Happening
Daniel Kahneman and Amos Tversky, psychologists who reshaped how we understand decision-making, spent decades studying how humans weigh risk.
Their research uncovered a pattern so consistent it became foundational:
we feel losses more intensely than we feel equivalent gains.
Kahneman said, “Losses loom larger than gains.”
Translation: The fear of losing something, even something you don’t have yet, weighs heavier than the potential upside of gaining it.
We will work harder to avoid a loss than to secure a win of equal value.
My Untrapped perspective:
In content creation, loss aversion shows up as broadening your scope.
You start with a clear, niche audience.
Then you think:
But what about the people who don’t fit this description?
What if they could benefit too?
Am I leaving money on the table?
Am I being exclusionary?
So you expand and make room for everyone.
And the piece flattens.
Before I named this niche, women who write, teach, and speak, I struggled with solely focusing on women. I’d think, But this could apply to men too. Why leave them out? Am I leaving opportunities on the table?
I didn’t realize that I wasn’t protecting potential readers. I was protecting myself from the discomfort of choosing.
2 Meanings That Keep You Widening the Net
“If I’m too specific, I’ll lose potential readers.”
What it makes you do: broaden language until it applies to everyone and lands with no one.
The truer meaning: Specificity isn’t rejection. It’s recognition. The right reader doesn’t feel excluded. She feels found.
“I should make room for everyone.”
What it makes you do: write as if anyone could be reading. Which means you write as if no one specific is.
The truer meaning: Making room for everyone is how you erase the one person who actually needed this.
“If I pick one person, I’ll be wrong.”
What it makes you do: second-guess every choice of audience until the piece never ships.
The truer meaning: You don’t need to be right about every reader. You need to be specific enough that one reader feels found.
The Takeaway
The pattern is loss aversion dressed up as inclusivity.
You’re not being generous. You’re hedging.
And it’s costing you the connection you actually want.
The tool below is how I pull myself back to one person when the widening starts.
🔒 Subscribe to continue reading. Paid subscribers get the full protocol, including the exact prompts I use to stay specific when my brain wants to widen.
The Untrapped Move
When I reframed my writing from producing articles to writing letters to a friend I am helping out, the blank screen lost its power. I wasn’t broadcasting anymore.
I was talking to one person.
Before you edit again, answer these three questions:
Who is my person? Not a demographic. Ex. A woman with a specific situation. What are they doing right now? What are they avoiding? What are they yearning for?
What does she need to hear that no one is saying? Not advice that applies to everyone. The thing that only makes sense if you’ve been where she’s been.
What would you say if this was a voice note to her, not a post for “your audience”?
Write that.
When to Use This
Before you edit. Before you widen.
Before you add the qualifier that protects you from being “too much.”
The moment you catch yourself thinking “but what about people who...”, stop. Return to her.
A Tiny Example
You’re writing about pricing hesitation. You start thinking:
But what about people who aren’t coaches?
What about people who don’t sell services?
Pause. Ask: Who is she?
She’s a corporate trainer who just started a side business offering workshops.
She’s about to send a proposal and she keeps lowering the number before anyone even asks.
Write to her. Not to “anyone who struggles with pricing.”
If You Want a Simple Add-On
Give her a name. Not a real name, a placeholder.
Write the whole piece as if you’re explaining this to her specifically.
It’s harder to widen when you’re talking to Sarah who teaches middle school and is about to pitch her first paid webinar.
Track Prompt
After you finish the piece, ask yourself:
Did I name her clearly enough that she would recognize herself in the first two lines?
Where did I widen?
What was I protecting myself from?
Final Thoughts
Specificity is not exclusion. It’s an act of respect.
When you name who you are talking to clearly, you’re not leaving people out.
You’re letting the right person know this was written for them.
The ones who don’t see themselves?
They were never going to be moved by the watered-down version either.
Write to one. Release the rest.
Next Step
If you want more on how to clarify your message without overbuilding, there will be other articles in the Message section soon. Check out whichever title names what you’re negotiating with this week.