Want to know how to build a strong pitch?
August is here.
Cities soften. Work slows, at least for a little while.
For many of us, this is the time when we finally step away from the urgent to make space for the mindful. I'm not sure if summer holidays are as joyful as social media often portrays them to be. Research by Kabat-Zinn and others (2003) on mindfulness-based stress reduction (MBSR) suggests that periods of relaxation or breaks, including holidays, can help individuals become more aware of their thoughts and feelings. A process that can evoke both positive and intense feelings; it is nevertheless invaluable.
Before the Pitch, the Person
But how are summer holidays related to the perfect pitch? Addressing one of the classic questions I receive in my intro calls with entrepreneurs before summer could be a stepping stone for a bigger notion. So the question is: "How do I build a strong pitch?"
There are, of course, practical answers. There are structures, hooks, narrative formulas, and tools that can clearly and persuasively shape a company's story.
But before we build the story of a company, there is a more important question to ask:
What story do you hold about yourself?
How do you talk about yourself, both to yourself and to the rest of the world? I am not asking whether you are overselling or underselling yourself; I am inviting you to go a bit deeper.
Your story isn't just what you tell others, it's what you believe about yourself. And that belief, your self-concept, influences everything:
Your presence.
Your confidence.
Your body language.
Your tone.
Your ability to connect—and to persuade.
Philosopher Katherine Cheng writes: affective connections to our past, whether regretful or triumphant, can sometimes harden into inflexible self-images. We might take a past mistake and carry its shame so fully that we come to believe we are undeserving of trust or love. Or we might cling to an old achievement and silently convince ourselves we can never fail, creating pressure we don't know how to name.
In both cases, the story becomes rigid. And when it does, it can limit us just as much as it once defined us.
The philosopher in this paper argues that this isn't the fault of emotion or memory themselves, but of affective identification: the way we emotionally attach to certain self-narratives so tightly that they begin to feel absolute. When that happens, our stories cease to evolve. And we stop evolving with them.
We often see this in rooms where communication and identity intersect.
Let's take the example of an entrepreneur whose first company failed. If the experience left him not just with disappointment, but with a deep sense of shame, it's easy for that story to harden: I am someone who couldn't deliver. I am not cut out for this. Even as he begins again, that unspoken belief may color his posture, his presence, his pitch. Every sentence can carry the weight of proving he's no longer that person—or worse, the fear that maybe he still is.
Or consider the founder whose first venture was a huge success. A well-known exit. Recognition. Praise. The kind of accomplishment that rewrites your bio overnight. But what happens when the story becomes I always succeed? When does the fear of not living up to past glory begin to shape every next move? Even in confidence, there's a subtle strain. Every sentence now carries a second purpose: maintaining the myth.
Both are examples of affective identification in action. Not because memory is the problem, but because we confuse past experiences with present identity. Emotions such as shame, pride, fear, and pressure attach themselves to the story and make it static.
But the human condition is not static. And neither is our story.
A Summer Invitation
So consider this blog post an invitation:
Take a little time to sit with the story you're telling yourself.
Not the one in your pitch deck. Not your LinkedIn summary. The real one. Not the polished version. The version you carry in your alone moments.
We often think about how to describe our company in one compelling sentence.
But the stories we tell ourselves silently shape the way we communicate our ideas to the world. They shape the energy behind the words. They stand as hidden proof of whether one can trust us or not.
So maybe before the pitch deck, the homepage, the bio—we pause. And ask:
What experiences have most deeply shaped how I see the world—and myself?
What beliefs about myself do I carry from the past, and are they still true?
What do I fear people might misunderstand about me?
What values do I want to be visible—not just in what I say, but in how I show up?
And perhaps most importantly:
The work isn’t to forget the past. It is to hold it with care and gentleness. To listen closely enough to recognize when it still speaks truth and when it is time to let it go. Knowing yourself is the beginning of all wisdom, Aristotle reminds us. And perhaps that wisdom begins not with answers, but with the courage to revisit the story you have been telling and the freedom to begin a new one.
Further Readings & References
Cheng, Katherine Chieh-Ling (2023). Self-Narrative, Affective Identification, and Personal Well-Being. Journal of the American Philosophical Association, Cambridge University Press. Read here
Kabat-Zinn, J. et al. (2003). Mindfulness-Based Stress Reduction and Health Benefits: A Review of the Research. Groundbreaking research connecting relaxation, reflection, and mental well-being.
Markus, H., & Nurius, P. (1986). Possible Selves. American Psychologist, 41(9), 954–969. Explores how imagined versions of ourselves influence motivation and identity.
McAdams, D. P. (2001). The Psychology of Life Stories. Review of General Psychology, 5(2), 100–122. A foundational text in narrative psychology and identity theory.
Gallagher, S. (2011). Narrative Identity and the Embodied Self. Journal of Consciousness Studies, 18(1), 1–19. On how bodily awareness and memory shape narrative identity.
Bruner, J. (1990). Acts of Meaning. Harvard University Press. Explains how storytelling serves as a central tool for meaning-making and self-understanding.
McConnell, Doug (2016). Narrative Self-Constitution and Recovery from Addiction. American Philosophical Quarterly, 53(3), July. Investigates how narrative reframing supports recovery and long-term identity reconstruction.
