How I Got My Email List Back
I love Mailchimp, an email marketing tool and use it to organize my email list and deliver emails to my readers, the people who made me who I am today. Mailchimp isn’t cheap, and I spend thousands of dollars for their service. But I care about my readers much, much more than money. So the money spent on good software is worth it. After all these years, Mailchimp and I are like an old couple.
That said, just like any relationship, my marriage with Mailchimp hasn’t been without rocky periods. In fact, for a moment, it looked like we were headed for a pretty nasty divorce. But the skills I’ve learned through the Power of Rejection saved our marriage.
Here is how it went down:
One day in June 2019, I received a message from my publisher (the company that published my book - Rejection Proof) telling me that they will run an Amazon promotion on June 26 to sell my book for only $1.99 on Kindle. They implored me to announce this deal to my readers.
Great deal right? What could go wrong?
You know what? That was an incredible deal. I loved writing my book and put all my energy and effort into writing it back in 2015. But in 2019, I had long moved on from marketing my book, or even trying to make money from it. At that point, Rejection Proof was only there to help others. So if my price-conscious (cough *cheap* cough) readers have the chance to read the book for the price of a pack of gums, I should let everyone know. Right?
Moreover, I was laser-focused on building a mobile app at the time. I hadn’t written emails to my readers for a long-time, and I felt guilty for neglecting them. So I thought I should send them a public service announcement email informing them of the deal.
So on June 26, I wrote the following to my email list:
I was trying to inform my readers about the deal while being self-deprecating. And after sending it, I didn’t think too much of it. Who bought the book, or how many have bought it, I didn’t know and didn’t care. With $1.99 per book, I wouldn’t make a penny. But this should build goodwill, and nothing bad will happen. Right? Right?
Boy, was I wrong? All hell broke loose after I sent this email.
Two days later, I got the following email from Mailchimp:
I was flabbergasted. What happened?
I right away replied to Mailchimp looking for answers. As it turned out, I made a big rookie mistake. Since I hadn’t sent any emails to my readers for over a year, many people had already forgotten who I was and how/where they signed up. When my first email was seen as “promotional,” without any fancy banners or graphics, many people mistook me for a spammer/scammer, so they complained and even unsubscribed. It triggered a red flag to a “large Internet service provider” (maybe AT&T, or Comcast, who knows), which sent a warning to Mailchimp.
For Mailchimp, a business built on delivering emails to readers, pissing off any “larger Internet service provider” was bad for business. So they questioned my use of email lists and suspended my account.
To restore service, they asked me to:
Delete all emails that were dormant for over a year. Justification: These emails are stale. They have probably forgotten who you are, so you should delete them, so they don’t complain.
Delete all emails I’ve manually collected outside of online forms.
Delete my social security number and birth certificate from the government. Announce to the world that I have sinned and should die.
I made the #3 up, but it sure felt like it at the time. And both #1 and #2 were true.
I was irate. What Mailchimp was asking was truly unacceptable.
At the time, since I hadn’t sent an email to my readers for a long time, almost ALL my emails would be considered dormant. So I would have to lose my entire list. Then what’s the use for Mailchimp?
At the end of my live speeches, I would verbally recruit people interested in testing my app to text me their emails. I would then manually load them up on Mailchimp and send them instructions. Deleting all these emails would make me unable to manage this group.
Over the years, I’ve paid tens of thousands of dollars to Mailchimp to use their service. I had never made any infractions, but only this one time. And even this one time was with innocent intent. I couldn’t believe Mailchimp would treat a loyal customer this way.
So I angrily wrote back to Mailchimp as such.
No. Mailchimp wouldn’t budge based on my “reasoning” and complained. They also added this line:
That’s it!!! At this point, I was happy to oblige.
Over the next three months, I tried all kinds of alternative software: Convertkit, Aweber, ActiveCampaign, etc. But here is the issue: switching was hard when you have used a service for so long and have been happy with it. All the other products didn’t feel right. For what I was trying to accomplish - newsletters, blog posts, and some interactions, Mailchimp was perfect for what I was doing.
More importantly, I started having second-thought about switching because of the reason in the first place. I had a fight with Mailchimp, if I were to keep using the marriage analogy. It wasn’t anything related to features, prices, and user interface. It was all based on emotions and a sense of injustice. Emotions, no matter how justified, usually result in lose-lose outcomes.
If somehow Mailchimp and I could kiss and make up, I would be happily back with them.
Do you ever get the feeling for your old software?
Here is where the marriage analogy falls short: with your estranged spouse, you have to sit down with her to figure things out. You are still dealing with the same person. And the person might not change after all.
But with business. Business is… well, business. Mailchimp is not a person with a single personality. It’s made of hundreds if not thousands of employees. So it’s worth to try with a different person.
Through the Rejection Therapy training, I knew what to do:
So I wrote them the following as the last ditch effort:
Dear Mailchimp Support Manager,
It's been three months since my account has been suspended. Before I migrate my entire list to another service, I feel there is a sense of reluctance and sadness within me. I have been using Mailchimp since 2013, and I have grown to become familiar with the service. I love Mailchimp, and it has served me well. Looking at what caused our issues and your demands, I want to give it one last shot to see if we can achieve a compromise before having to say goodbye permanently.
1. Removal of all contacts collected offline. I have already done this. In fact, I have deleted an entire list of emails that didn't specifically opt into my newsletter.
2. Removal of all inactive contacts added over 12 months ago and who have not opened any emails recently: this one is the one I had issues with because of its impracticality and unfairness in my case. I sent out one campaign in the past six months, ONE! What you are requesting is that I delete all long-time readers who didn't open that one campaign, which is the majority of my list. I was never informed that I needed to fulfill this requirement in order to keep the list active. I understand it's a suggestion and best practice, but not a requirement.
So here is my suggestion: you restore my account. I will be very cautious in sending out future campaigns. I will also ask them to unsubscribe if they don’t want to hear from me. My list is composed of my fans, and they are very loyal and engaged. But if they don't want to hear from me, I will be happy to remove them.
If my campaign triggers another warning, I would also be happy to shut down the service and leave.
I hope you can see my attempt and effort in trying to find a reasonable compromise to salvage our business relationship. Let me know your thoughts.
Thanks!
A long-time customer
In this email, I used three different tools in the Power of Rejection:
Loss aversion: I mentioned I had been with Mailchimp since 2013 to show my loyalty. I talked about the great relationship we have enjoyed. If we were to say “goodbye permanently,” it would be a loss for both Mailchimp and me. No business wants to lose loyal customers who buy from there over and over. So there were also incentives for Mailchimp to preserve the relationship.
Reciprocity: I mentioned that I’d made compromises to resume the relationship. People are emotional beings. Emotions can go either way. It can both hurt or help. In this case, I demonstrated goodwill by making an effort. People naturally want to return in kind when they see the other party making sincere compromises.
Solutions: I spelled out concrete and reasonable solutions to our current issues, including actions from both parties. For me, I wanted my service restored. For Mailchimp, they wanted to make sure I wouldn’t abuse their services, which I didn’t any way other than the one-time snafu.
When you take emotions out of business discussions and use these Rejection-salvaging principles, conversations would turn positive in a hurry.
A rep from Mailchimp replied right away, thanking me for reaching out and wanting to find a compromise. After explaining their original position, here is what they wrote:
And that is all it mattered. My service was restored.
Since that day, it has been all happiness and satisfaction between Mailchimp and me. I’ve continued to spend thousands of dollars every year. In fact, Mailchimp hired me as a speaker at one of their marketing events this year, so I made some of my money back. Hey Mailchimp, you are not the only one who charges people for service!
For the vast majority of us, this IS life. Our life is made of thousands of tedious negotiations. What if, through training and knowledge, you can maintain composure, restore and enhance relationships, and get what you want more times than not? Wouldn’t it make a difference?
Take the Power of Rejection course if you want to learn and practice the skills to win these negotiations in the face of rejections, whether it’s for spectacular victories or everyday small successes.
Jia