
Every day, an Innie wakes up, logs in, and stares into the abyss — an abyss filled with rows, columns, and conditional formatting. They spend their lives drowning in reporting data, pivot tables, and the crushing realization that no one else actually looks at the dashboards they build.
Pipeline goals loom overhead like an unmovable boulder, while sales teams demand more leads — faster, better, and with guaranteed conversion. No campaign is ever “good enough,” and no amount of optimization can ever satisfy the hunger of the revenue machine.
They stare at the dashboard. They refresh. They check the MQL count, praying it magically increases. They refresh again. They send a Slack message to sales. They refresh once more. Maybe this time, maybe just this time, the numbers will go up.
“Is it first touch or last touch? Multi-touch? Which model are we using? Why are the numbers different?” These are the questions that plague an Innie’s every waking moment. And just when they think they have an answer, a new executive enters the chat with thoughts.
After months of crafting the perfect nurture sequence, a prospect unsubscribes with a single, crushing click. Worse? They leave behind the dreaded reason: Not relevant to me. An Innie takes this personally.
They mapped the journey. They optimized the ads. They personalized every email. And yet, prospects keep ghosting, leads keep leaking, and sales keeps asking, “Why isn’t this converting?” The Innie has no words. Only pain.
An Innie is running on empty, trapped in a cycle of over-analysis and under-action. But there’s still a chance to bring them back. A human moment—something real that doesn’t require a dashboard to measure—can remind them why they got into marketing in the first place.
Innies have seen too much. Their hope is fading. Their coffee is getting cold. But with a little love—a thoughtful gift, a moment of appreciation, or at the very least, a lead that actually converts—they might just make it through.