How I Learned to Stop Selling Features and Start Telling Stories

Or: Why your company's real story is the one thing AI can't steal
I used to think "brand storytelling" was marketing fluff—the kind of thing agencies charged $50,000 to discover your company's "archetype" (which always turned out to be "The Hero").
I watched smart founders obsess over features, A/B test button colors, and churn out "ultimate guides" that were SEO-perfect and soul-crushingly boring. Their metrics stalled, so they shouted louder.
Then I stumbled across a forum post titled simply "Storytelling..." The conversation inside was electric. It confirmed what I'd suspected for years: we were all doing it wrong.
The Problem with "Valuable Content"
We're drowning in sameness. The advice to "provide value" has created an internet full of articles that feel written by the same polite, boring robot. Your competitors target the same keywords, use the same AI assistants, and build the same "definitive" checklists.
The result? Your audience is numb. They've learned to scroll past anything that smells like a transaction.
People don't hate content—they can smell a formula from miles away. When your "authentic story" is just a template you filled in, people notice. You're not building connection; you're asking for a click. And your audience is tired of being asked for things.
What Actually Works: Three Stories That Don't Suck
1. Tell the Real Origin Story (Not the Polished "About Us" Page)
Forget the corporate timeline. Nobody cares that you incorporated in Q3 of 2021. They want the human story.
Every company starts because a founder gets personally, deeply frustrated by a problem. That's your story.
Real origin stories sound like this:
"I got fired because our servers went down, so I decided to build something that would never fail."
"We couldn't afford rent, so we threw air mattresses on the floor and started a business."
"I built this tool for myself because every other solution was clunky and overpriced."
These work because they're about struggle and real human motivation. You can't fake the frustration of a problem you lived with every day.
The key: Your product is the solution that arrives at the end of the story, not the hero. The hero is you (or your customer).
2. Share the Scars (Not Just the Trophies)
Corporate wisdom says project strength at all times. This is terrible advice. Perfection is intimidating. Vulnerability connects us.
Showing your mistakes, wrong turns, and hard-learned lessons proves you're human. It gives people a reason to root for you.
Posts that work:
"Our first product launch was a total flop. Here's what we learned."
"Why we just killed our most popular feature (and why it was the right call)."
"The terrible advice I followed that almost sank our company."
Admitting you screwed up doesn't make you look weak—it makes you look honest. In a world full of posturing, honesty is a superpower.
The key: Don't share failures for pity. Share them to teach. "We messed this up, and here's how you can avoid doing the same."
3. Let People See the Mess (Build in Public)
Stop waiting until everything is perfect. Invite people into the process. The messy sketches, heated debates, half-finished features—that's the good stuff.
When people feel part of the journey, they stop being customers and start being co-conspirators. They're invested.
Good examples:
"We're debating two pricing models. Here's our thinking—what are we missing?"
"Here are the ugly first mockups for our new dashboard. Roast us."
"We're sharing our revenue and metrics every month. Here's the latest update."
The key: This isn't about asking for validation. It's about showing your work and proving you're listening. You're building a community, not just a customer list.
The Real Rules of Storytelling
This isn't just about writing feel-good posts. Get this wrong, and it backfires.
Tell the right story to the right people. A developer sharing his build-in-public journey with other developers is cool. But if he's trying to sell to marketers, he's telling a great story in an empty room. Tell the story where your customers are, in a way that resonates with their problems.
Don't let AI write your story. Use it for outlines and research. But the moment you ask AI to write about your "vulnerability" or "founder's struggle," you've lost. AI has no scars. It can't replicate the feeling of near-failure or the thrill of a first sale. It generates clichés, and your audience will sniff them out instantly.
Weave it into everything. This isn't a "content strategy"—it's a business strategy. Your sales team should tell these stories. Your fundraising deck should open with one. Your job descriptions should reflect your mission. It's the thread that holds everything together.
What This Actually Looks Like
A while back, my team made a huge pricing mistake. We were way too cheap and attracted the wrong customers.
Instead of quietly changing it, I wrote a post: "We completely screwed up our pricing, and it almost broke us." I laid out our flawed logic, the painful data, and the lessons learned.
Result: We got more thoughtful engagement on that one post than on our previous ten "5 Tips for X" articles combined. A handful of ideal customers signed up, with several saying, "I appreciate the honesty." They weren't buying a product—they were buying into a company that wasn't afraid to be real.
The Long Game
Storytelling isn't a growth hack. It doesn't deliver 1000 leads overnight. It's about building a brand people actually care about—something with a soul.
This takes time. Months, not days. But the payoff is a brand that people trust, remember, and talk about. When someone has the problem you solve, you're the first one they think of—not because they saw your ad, but because they remember your story.
Getting Started (Without the Consultants)
Pick one approach above: The Origin Story, The Scars, or The Mess.
Think of one real, specific event. Not a concept—an event.
Write it like you're telling a friend over a beer. Don't sanitize it. Don't add jargon.
Post it on your personal social media or send it as plain-text email to your list.
Be patient and do it again next month.
That's it. No "narrative frameworks." No "brand workshops." Just sharing something true.
The Bottom Line
Great marketing works when it doesn't feel like marketing. When you sell features, you're just another vendor. When you share a real story, you become a person—someone they can relate to, root for, and trust.
The best brand story doesn't feel like a story at all. It feels like getting to know a founder who's obsessed with solving a problem you have.
And that's not a strategy you can fake—it's just being human.