Fifteen years ago, I sat in a room with 39 strangers and learned something about myself that changed everything.

I was at the Hoffman Process - this incredibly intense week-long personal development retreat. The kind where, by day three, everyone in the room has seen your ugly cry and knows things about your childhood you've never told your closest friends.

I was there because my life was falling apart. I was stuck in a job going nowhere. I'd just had my fourth boyfriend in a row cheat on me. I felt broken. Unwanted. Unlovable. Like a complete and utter failure as a human being.

And then came the exercise.

They brought all 40 participants into a room, plus about 15 staff members. Each person had to stand up and name three people they'd had an immediate, visceral reaction to - positive OR negative - and explain why.

No apologies. No softening. Just raw, honest truth about how someone made you feel simply by existing in the same space.

But they had a rule. One we all thought wouldn’t really matter. The rule? Once someone gets named five times, no one else can name them.

I was the first person to hit five. And it happened quickly.

Three positives. Two negatives.

I still remember one of the negative ones. A woman said my laugh was too loud. My laugh offended her. It made her angry. She was convinced it was fake and made me untrustworthy.

She's just too much.

I'd heard that my entire life. And here it was again, in a room full of people who'd seen me at my most vulnerable.

After the exercise ended, one of the facilitators found me. She could tell I was wrecked.

"Can we talk about what just happened?"

I nodded, trying not to cry again.

"I just..." I finally said, "I just wish I could be more likable."

She looked at me for a long moment. And then she said something I think about almost every single day:

"I need you to understand something about people in general, but especially about you. Every person is a magnet. We all have an energy that both attracts certain people AND repels others. You just happen to have a very strong energy."

She continued, "That means you're going to magnetically attract certain people. They'll feel your energy, they'll love it, and they'll be drawn to you. But there will also be people who feel the exact opposite. They're repelled by you. Not because you did anything wrong - just because of who you are.

I started to ask how I could fix that. How I could make the people who found me so distasteful... like me. Even a little.

She stopped me.

"I know your instinct is to figure out how to make the people you repel like you more. You're going to try to lessen the force by which you repel them."

She paused.

"It's impossible. There is literally nothing you can do that will make them like you. Not really. And you need to understand that anything you do to lessen the force by which you repel them will ALSO lessen the force by which you attract others. That's just how magnets work."

Then she asked me the question that changed everything:

I think about this conversation constantly. Especially when I'm working with clients on positioning.

Because I've learned one truth time and time again. Every time we sand down our edges to seem more "professional," we weaken both forces. We repel less, sure. But what’s more? We attract less, too.

We become... forgettable.

The word for that in business is commodity. And commodities blend into the background, forced to compete on price.

Here's something I've never written on a landing page or in my content:

My ideal clients are people for whom the standard corporate playbook just doesn't work.

Women. People of color. LGBTQ+. Neurodivergent. Introverts. Indigenous. Anyone who spent their career navigating spaces that weren't built for them.

I don't say it explicitly. But I talk constantly about how the "more is more" approach - scale your team, work more hours, grow bigger, grow faster - isn't what I teach. I'm honest about my failures. I challenge the conventional wisdom that keeps people stuck.

And you know what happens?

If you look at The Collective right now, it's over 50% women. There's a well-represented neurodivergent contingent. About 30% or more of people of color.

I didn't recruit for that. I attracted it.

Because my contrarian stance isn't just positioning. It represents something deeper. It signals who this space is actually FOR.

It’s incredibly rare for me to attract someone who doesn’t fit the vibe. No assholes, no bigots, no hustle bros (or gals).

Think about that for a second. How many business owners can say that about their client base?

That's not luck. That's what happens when you stop trying to be likable to everyone and start being magnetic to the right people.

Here's the uncomfortable truth about being "professional":

Professional has become code for generic.

It means sanding down everything that makes you interesting. Hiding the opinions that might ruffle feathers. Performing a version of yourself that feels safe but also feels like absolutely no one.

And the cruelest irony? It doesn't even work.

The people who were never going to like you? They still won't like you. You just made yourself invisible to the people who would have absolutely unabashedly LOVED you for you.

You weakened both forces. And now you're stuck in the middle, wondering why you can't seem to stand out no matter how hard you try.

Here's what I want you to understand about magnetism:

It's not just about your messaging. It's not just about your positioning.

It's about the entire business you build.

My role as a coach isn't to hand you a formula and watch you execute it. My role is to help you find smart, strategic ways to refine your business so you can be more yourself. Not less.

→ That means structuring your services so they play to your actual strengths.
→ Shaping your delivery model so it lets you show up authentically.
→ Leaning into contrarian points of view instead of hiding them.
→ Celebrating your quirks, your weirdness, your unconventional background - all the things you've been told to downplay.

Because here's the magic that nobody talks about:

When your business is built around who you actually are, you don't just attract better clients. You do better work.

Work that flows. Work that feels like yours. Work that lets you be unapologetically, authentically yourself.

Which means you're less likely to feel that creeping impostor syndrome. Less likely to feel insecure. Less likely to feel the drain of wearing a mask eight hours a day while you pretend to be someone you're not.

Is it scary? Absolutely.

When you're being authentically yourself, it feels risky. You're exposed. There's nowhere to hide.

But it's a risk that pays off in every possible way.

You get to do work you were actually meant to do. With people who appreciate it - and you - for exactly who you are.

That's not just good positioning. That's a good life.

I spent years trying to be more likable. More palatable. Less... much.

It didn't make the people who disliked me suddenly come around.

It just made me exhausted. And forgettable.

And it filled me with self-doubt, amplified my imposter syndrome, and drained my energy (and my bank account).

The version of me that builds a business where over half my clients are people who never quite fit the corporate mold? That's the version who stopped apologizing for laughing too loudly.

That's the version that decided the people who love me for who I am matter more than the people who never will.

So let me ask you…

Because I promise you - the energy you're spending trying to be palatable to people who were never going to hire you anyway? That's the same energy that would be attracting your actual people.

You don't have a visibility problem. You have a magnetism problem.

And the only way to fix it is to turn the dial UP, not down.

Be more you. Not less.

Let them feel something when they encounter you - even if that something is "not for me."

Because "not for me" is just as valuable as "hell yes."

It clears the path for the people who are actually yours.

Focus on them, and every single part of your life and business will improve. I promise.

In love, growth, and magentism,
Kasey