I had an unexpected gap in my copywriting diary yesterday. A new client ditched me at the last minute as her “mate is going to write it” for her instead. FFS. My sister in law offered to treat me to a massage in the free time, after I got on the phone to moan to her about being left high and dry for the morning.

She didn’t do the massage herself, just to clarify. She paid for me to go and partake in the services of a trained professional. She’s lovely like that.

Much as I love a good spa visit, I’m not a naturally relaxed person. I don’t mean that I’m always rushed off my feet or that I’m constantly caught up in something either for fun or as a result of a drama, but instead I mean that I just can’t switch off very easily. I’m always thinking about something that needs to be done, even if I’ve not actually struck up the motivation to physically do it.

Being this kind of person, massages aren’t that great for me, even though they are probably an essential tool in ensuring I don’t die (or kill someone else). I usually only tend to get into the relaxing vibe of a massage right about the point when the therapist softly and gently tells me to take my time getting up off the bed.

Because I know I won’t switch off as I ultimately hand over control to another being, I suddenly start getting a bit defensive and negative about the experience I’m about to have. So, when the therapist asked me if there were any particular areas I wanted her to work on in order for me to get the best out of my massage, I defaulted to my position of telling her exactly what I didn’t want.

“Please don’t touch my feet. I know most people like it but I really don’t and I’ll end up involuntarily kicking you in the face by way of demonstrating my convictions. Oh, and on that note, please don’t touch my inner elbows or the backs of my knees, either. I don’t want to get into it but I have a real phobia of those places being touched, and to be honest I can’t even look at them – on me or anybody else – and even the thought of those veiny crevices makes me really uncomfortable, so I’m going to stop talking before I hyperventilate… Oh oh, and also, please don’t use anything cinnamon-y or vanilla-y on me because those scents actually make me retch like a diseased street fox digging through a wheely bin…”

Having verbally attacked the patient therapist with this list of don’ts and don’ts, I didn’t even think about answering her actual question, which was of course, “What do you want?”

Typically, as I proceeded to lie face down on the heated bed – two elements that would send anyone else into a comfortable slumber – I instead started planning this bloody blog in my head, because all I could think about was if I should be making more of an effort with my clients to ask them what they don’t want when they give me a copywriting brief, as opposed to just asking about what they do want. It would certainly make sense for me personally, seeing as it’s seemingly ingrained in me to lead with the ‘don’t wants’ whenever I’m buying into the product or service of someone else.

I have no idea if asking ‘what don’t you want?’ is the best or even a relevant conversation for anyone else out there in business, but it’s looking like it’s going to be quite important to me moving forward, as I believe it avoids any discomfort in the long run – quite literally, in yesterday’s case.

This all really reminds me of that time a (still very much long term) copywriting client gave me the heart-breaking instruction of, “Jo – seriously, no puns, love.”

Bastard.