Am I okay to talk about a holiday for this blog?

Or is the topic a sore point, given the fact that a lot of us are struggling in some way or other with the concept of taking (or getting) a holiday right now…

Cancellations from providers, issues with vaccination passports, getting struck down with the dreaded virus…

The sky high cost of going anywhere half-decent now that providers are keen to start making back the money they’ve lost in the pandemic…

Everything being booked solid as people desperately try to claw something back of a life as the world slowly starts to open back up (and before more places get thrown onto a red list)…

My blog isn’t about any of those concerns or complaints – although I’ve certainly got them. I mean, FFS, just say we can go or we can’t – stop fucking about with traffic lights.

On this occasion, my blog is about what the search for a holiday – in any given year – throws up in the way of ‘help’ when you put your requests for the perfect jaunt to friends, acquaintances, and complete strangers on social media. In particular, I’m talking about LinkedIn. It’s a place where opinions are given whether they address the question at hand or not. It’s a place where there’s a fine line between great advice and opportunistic posturing. It’s a place (for me) where a picture is painted of what a person will be like to do business with, even when you’re not talking anything about business with them.

Let me tell you what I mean.

On several occasions, I’ve taken to LinkedIn to ask my professional network of (largely) lovely and helpful people for recommendations of things – both in business and in pleasure. But one thing I’ve learned over the years to be careful of asking for, is a recommendation for a holiday.

It never goes well, and I end up feeling shit about my life choices.

Well, it doesn’t, but I can imagine it really annoys a lot of people and leaves them frustrated and questioning their decisions, so this blog is for those guys!

It goes something like this.

You want to book a holiday. So far you have your dates, your family members, and your preferred choice of location. You then share those parameters in your quest to get the best resort or hotel to fit the bill, only to be met to some extent with a load of responses that make you wonder what in the Judith Chalmers you even asked for.

My own example:

Going to take some time off at the end of September. Want to head back to The Canaries with the other half and the small child. Recommendations for a great family hotel with a bit of luxury as well as child-friendly entertainment, please!

Now, this is in no way me having a go at anyone who commented on that particular post (in a pre-pandemic year), because it’s nice that people took time out of their day to participate in the conversation. But, straight away, I could see the different motivations.

There were people who didn’t have a recommendation to make, but said lovely things about the fact I’d be looking forward to a much-deserved family holiday. Supportive, kind, empathetic… I’d always want to work with someone like that in business if the opportunity ever came up.

There were people who zoned right in on what I’d said – and asked for – and put forward suggestions that could fit the bill. Attentive, helpful, informative… I’d always want to work with someone like that, too, if the opportunity in business ever came up.

But then we had the people who wanted to have their say, yet had either paid no attention to what I wanted/needed, or indeed noted those things yet decided to completely disregard it anyway.

For example…

“There’s a fantastic Adults-Only hotel…”

Does this mean you’ll be babysitting my child at a nearby family complex? Or shall I just drop her off at your house on the way to the airport?

“We’ve been in September and didn’t like it. Much hotter weather in June – go then.”

Sure thing. I’ll just move everything we’re doing in June to September and go two months early. And bake to death, you say…? Great.

“You don’t want to go to the Canaries. Portugal is much better”.

You’re right. I’ve got no idea why I mentioned the Canaries at all when I clearly don’t want to go there, stranger on the internet…

Now, I’m not averse to an open mind, so if people chirped in on the conversation with a recommendation and then went on to add something along the lines of, “If you book again next year and you want the best value on a family holiday, it’s cheaper in June”, for example, I am all over that good advice. Love it, in fact. That person has clearly read what I’ve asked for, taken it into account, and commented accordingly. Being told I’m simply wrong in what I want, though… or just plain being ignored or dismissed so that someone can swoop in and tell me all about themselves and their own lovely holidays… that just straight up pisses on my mojito.

I know, I know, take it to Facebook, Jo…

I could, but then this blog is about business.

Is it, Jo? Really?

Yes.

You see, I don’t use LinkedIn to actively or directly promote my business. No. I use it to show people who I am, how I do things, and what I’m like to work with. I do all that – and show that I’m a beautiful writer – through a beautifully written post or two. It builds relationships, and this in turn builds my business. As a result, this opportunity for a real conversation is exactly what I look for when I read other people’s posts on LinkedIn. I’m not looking for a pitch or a promotion – I’m looking for a personality. I’m looking for who I might one day want to work with, and who I’d be more than happy to throw money at should I ever need to trust someone with a product or service I need to purchase.

So, if you’re the kind of person who either doesn’t take notice of what I want or need when I ask you something, or decides straight off that my opinion is irrelevant, I’m wrong, or that you have a better idea of what I want or need (despite the fact I don’t know you), then this tells me everything about the kind of person you would be like to work with in business. It’s not the best start, as I’m very unlikely to trust, respect, or feel at all comfortable with you.

I wonder if people ever think about how they come across on the personal posts when their business guard is down, because for me, personal and professional personas are much more closely linked than we might have initially thought.

And so, the next time someone asks for a seemingly non-business piece of advice on LinkedIn, think about how you respond. Are you reading it? Are you responding effectively to it? Are you respecting it?

Finding the perfect hotel in The Canaries with your family in September may not be ideal for you, but when a potential client comes to you with their thought process, it’s not about you. You can give your opinion to a client without completely disregarding what they’ve come to you with, and if this is something you struggle with, it’s possible you’re going to lose some great opportunities. That person asking you for a holiday recommendation today could easily be a future client. Let’s not forget that.

And before anyone starts with the fact that we shouldn’t be talking about holidays on LinkedIn in the first place – oh I know you’re reading – I have several points to make:

1. Why is it okay to ask for a recommendation for a co-working space in Crewe, but not for a top hotel in Tenerife? It’s all money going into a business, isn’t it?
2. If you’re working your arse off in your business and happy to post all day about that, why is it unthinkable that you’d use your hard-earned money and spend your hard-earned free time going on a holiday as wonderful ‘objective’?
3. I’ve already made my point clear around how I feel about people wading in with opinions that have fuck-all to do with the full context of a post, so…

Now, if you’ll excuse me, thanks to a lot of wonderful people on LinkedIn who clearly are a dream to talk to (and perhaps one day do business with), I’m off to start packing for a holiday that I actually want and asked for.

Who knew?!

If you loved/hated this blog, you’ll absolutely adore/detest my blog about not giving a shit about the concept of an ‘Ideal Client Avatar’.

Photo by Ethan Robertson on Unsplash