Untemplate Sites

“I love coaching. I effing hate marketing.”
The Untemplate Site bridges that gap.

Your website is how you can reach more people, help more people, and create the impact your business deserves — without sacrificing your integrity.

“Most coaches weren’t told this is part of the job.”

One night while on Reddit, I got sucked into a discussion on r/Coaching. It was about how people fall in love with coaching and helping people, only to find themselves doing the one thing they hate: hustle marketing. 

As an introverted public servant who loves cats and despises social media, I immediately related to the coaches in that post. 

Marketing yourself sucks.
Asking people for money sucks.
Networking and grinding on social media sucks.

It’s a struggle for solo business owners in all industries. But the more I thought about it, I realized this runs so much deeper for coaches. 

As a coach, you aren’t just facing the typical “marketing your business is hard” bullshit — you’re facing a full-on identity crisis. 

If you’re like the coaches I know and see, you aren’t driven by money. I’ve never met anyone who started coaching to become a millionaire. 

They do it because they want to make a positive impact in the world.
They do it for the lightbulb moments that come from asking the right questions.
They do it to see people ignited by a conversation and using that energy to make progress towards a goal. 

One coach described the experience as feeling almost like magic. 

If you can relate, marketing probably feels like betrayal. And you’re right to feel that way.

Marketing betrays your motivations. Your values. Your heart. The very magic of what you do and why you do it.

But you can’t avoid it. If you don’t spend 98% of your time marketing and selling, you don’t get clients. And then you aren’t helping anyone. 

It’s a catch-22 that you didn’t sign up for. 

But it doesn’t stop there. 

Coaching is a really hard sell, even if you aren’t repulsed by sales. It’s intangible. Difficult to guarantee results. People don’t understand what it is. And to top it all off, there are more coaches around post-COVID than there are people who need (and can afford) coaching. 

What’s a gal supposed to do?

You just want to be a coach and make decent money.

If your dream looks like working as a coach who isn’t perpetually broke, you need new clients. And the BEST way to get new clients? It’s getting them to pursue you. 

Easier said than done. But if this were easy, it wouldn’t be the dream now, would it?

Okay, so one way or another you need new clients, but ideally, they will come to you without you having to hard-sell them. How the hell are you going to do that?

The answer is marketing.

Hear me out. I know marketing feels bad. One coach on Reddit described it perfectly: 

“I’d rather go to the dentist, gynecologist and have a mammogram on the same day instead of do “marketing” stuff. Yuck.”

(I told you I found some interesting discussions on there.)

But maybe, just maybe, the reason marketing feels so bad is that the way you’ve been doing it has you pretending to be someone you’re not. 

It could be forcing yourself to make videos because “that’s the best way to get leads” even though you hate video. So. Damn. Much. 

It could be that you think you have to present a certain image on socials, but that’s not what you’re like in real life. 

Or it could be that, like most people, you aren’t good at sales, but admitting it feels like failure, so you just carry on and hope it gets better with time.

You see, marketing itself isn’t inherently bad. But the wrong marketing approach for your personality and business is. 

The key is finding the right approach for you. 

Treat people like people, not like targets, prospects, or leads

Traditional marketing, with its funnel optimizations and lead-gen strategies, comes across as sterile and uncaring. And don’t get me started on the “marketing bro” culture.

Good marketing is about understanding people. What are their struggles? What are their dreams? What holds them back? 

These ideas are deeply relevant to coaching. They are not in conflict with your work. 

If you know someone has a headache, and you have ibuprofen, offering it isn’t unethical. Asking for a fair trade, like I’ll give you an ibuprofen if you give me a breath mint, isn’t unethical either. 

The same goes for coaching, even when money gets involved.

Listen to people. Have empathy. Do good work. In other words, be a coach. That’s your marketing message. 

Say goodbye to the polished, generic website that doesn’t feel like you. 

To escape the template trap, a real human has to do the work. That human doesn’t have to be you. In fact, you’ll get better results if you step back and get outside help. 

Positioning and writing for your own brand is hard. It’s damn near impossible to do it well.

The challenge is that you are too close to your own work to see it clearly. You can’t experience what it’s like to encounter you for the first time. You can’t see your business from the outside in. 

That missing perspective is how others see you. And it’s the perspective you need to understand most to truly connect with your people. An outside expert doesn’t have that problem; they’re already on the outside. 

But an outsider can’t know you as well as you know yourself. How can they understand you and your vision if you don’t even have the words to describe it yourself?

My answer: by studying the religious beliefs of a 16th-century Italian peasant who was burned at the stake for heresy. 

Yes, I am being serious. 

Studying history taught me how to translate your vision into something real.

My educational background isn’t in graphic design, computer science, or business. It’s in history. 

History isn’t about memorizing names and dates. It’s about narratives. 

Historians are trained to analyze sources, pull out the threads that connect them, and then make an argument. That argument is often a story. That story often gives a voice to someone who can no longer speak for themself — like Menocchio, the Italian heretic.

(He’s the subject of a popular microhistory. Microhistories focus on everyday individuals and give history a human face, rather than on prominent individuals or larger societal movements.)

My history degrees taught me how to look at a collection of random-ass documents, extract someone’s voice, and turn it into a persuasive narrative. 

That skill set is exactly what an outsider needs to understand you and your vision. 

Voice Mining — how someone else can nail your voice and make your vision real.

So many people worry that if they hire someone to write their website, it won’t actually sound like them. 

It’s a valid concern. And it’s something that I’m very conscious about. That’s what Voice Mining is for.

What is Voice Mining, you ask? 

It’s my personal approach to copywriting using a historian’s methods. I don’t know anyone else writing websites this way. 

Here’s how it works.

I look for ideas, words, and quotes from you and your audience and then reassemble them into compelling copy. It has two parts.

You are the first half. When a project begins, I ask you to answer my questionnaire and upload your existing content to a private Google Drive. Those sources tell me how you think and speak. 

Your audience is the second half. I also do independent market research on your ideal clients. Those findings tell me how they think and speak. 

Then, when it comes time to write, I pull from both sources. My job is not to write original words — it’s to heavily plagiarize you with the right framing. 

I’m not changing your words or putting new ones in your mouth. I’m rearranging things you already say into the right order to resonate with your audience. 

We’re probably strangers right now, but without knowing a thing about you, I am confident that you have good ideas. The problem is rarely the ideas — it’s the order, the framing, and knowing which parts to repeat. 

That’s why you need a historian. We’re great at recognizing patterns and turning them into a convincing story. 

Content always comes first, but neglecting your website’s other layers would be a mistake. 

Every website has four layers. Most people recognize content, design, and tech, but they overlook strategy as the overarching layer that ties it all together. 

While I believe you should always start with content, it can’t carry a website all on its own. 

Design supports the content by making your message clear and easy to understand. It’s also the first thing people notice. 

Fair or not, people make snap judgments about you based on your website. An amateurish or outdated design makes you look less professional, which makes you seem less legitimate. 

Tech is how your website is built and works. 

If it takes too long to load, people will leave.
If links are broken or your website doesn’t work, people will leave.
If it doesn’t resize to a phone screen, people will leave.  

As you can see, bad design and bad tech have costs. If one area of your site is bad, it can be enough to push people away, even if the other parts are amazing. 

Hiring a copywriter only fixes your copy. The design and tech could still be bad.
Hiring a designer only fixes the appearance. The content and tech could still be bad.
Hiring a developer only fixes the tech. The content and design could still be bad. 

You need to hire three experts to fix each layer. But three different freelancers working independently won’t have the strategic vision to bring it all together with the fourth layer.

What you really need is a web strategist — someone who understands how content, design, and tech work together and what each layer needs to do to be successful. 

Work with the lead strategist behind a 47,503-page website that gets 79 million annual visitors.

Earlier, I explained my background as a historian. That’s an admittedly weird qualification for someone who claims to be a web expert. 

The truth is, I’ve never actually worked as a historian. After completing my master’s degree in 2018, I joined the U.S. Department of State’s web team as an editor for the agency’s main website, http://www.state.gov. After a few role changes, I’m now the creative lead, where I’m focused on major design and user experience improvements. 

Everything I know about websites I’ve learned in the trenches of a massive government website. 

Granted, my hands-on experience is at a scale your coaching website will never match. You wouldn’t be wrong to think that State.gov and your website exist in two completely different realities; there is no overlap. 

To that I say: yeah, they’re very different, but after wrangling the monstrosity that is State.gov, a 5-page website is a piece of cake. Hell, a 50-page website is too.

So, why is a government web strategist helping coaches who hate marketing get more clients with a true-to-yourself website?