The 5 Part Quirky Rebel Email Framework for Sharing Your Story

There was a time when I wanted to disappear.

Chemo had stripped me down. Physically. Emotionally. Spiritually. I felt hollow—like a shell of the person I used to be. But even in that emptiness, something in me still wanted to speak. I wanted to tell the truth about what I was going through. The grief. The loss. The slow, aching process of rebuilding a life that no longer looked like the one I had before.

But when I tried to write about it, I hit a wall.

I either said too little—hiding behind vague, polished language that felt like small talk (and I don’t like small talk)—or sharing too much. I’d spill raw emotion and unfiltered pain onto the page, only to realize I had shared more than my audience signed up to hold.

Neither felt right.

I didn’t want to be pitied. I didn’t want to be the coach who only wrote from their wounds. I wanted to be real—without unraveling. Honest—without oversharing. I wanted to connect, without turning my emails into a confessional.

And maybe you’ve felt that tension too.

Maybe you’ve sat down to write an email wondered:

• How much is too much?

• Is this story for them—or still for me?

• Will this help someone feel seen—or am I hoping they’ll help me feel okay?

That’s the tricky thing about storytelling in our work: the most powerful stories often come from our own pain, our own growth, our own messiness. But just because something is true doesn’t always mean it’s time to share it.

So I created something to help me navigate that line—to stay connected without spilling over. Something that gave me structure, clarity, and a way to honor both my voice and my reader’s capacity.

It’s called The Quirky Rebel Framework for Sharing Your Story—and it’s here to help you share stories that are real, resonant, and respectful. Not just of your reader’s bandwidth, but of your own boundaries, too.

The 5 Part Quirky Rebel Email Framework for Sharing Your Story

This is the framework I created—and still use—to write stories that are real, resonant, and respectful of both my boundaries and my readers’. It gave me a way to speak clearly, truthfully, and powerfully, without feeling like I was either hiding or hemorrhaging.

Because we need more stories. We need more truth. We need more voices willing to show what it actually looks like to move through life. To heal. To question. To create. To start again.

And we need to share those stories in a way that’s intentional. That honors the storyteller and the listener. That respects emotional bandwidth and builds meaningful connection.

This framework does exactly that.

Part 1: The Hook

The hook is the moment that draws your reader in. It’s not the full story—it’s the spark. It should feel immediate, compelling, and emotionally present. It should make the reader pause and want to keep reading.

Example: "I almost quit coaching the day after I launched my list."

It’s direct. It’s honest. It opens a door.

Part 2: The Human Moment

This is where you invite your reader into a specific moment of emotional truth. Not your entire story—just a moment. A detail. A glimpse into your lived experience.

Example: "I was still recovering from chemo. I’d poured so much into launching my list, and then... no one opened the email."

This is vulnerability with structure. It lets people see you without overwhelming them.

Part 3: The Shift

Here’s where you reflect. What did that moment teach you? What insight did you take away? It doesn’t have to be groundbreaking—just real. The goal is to offer a turning point.

Example: "That moment taught me that fear doesn’t mean I’m doing something wrong. It means I care."

This is where your experience starts to hold meaning—not just for you, but for your reader.

Part 4: The Tie-In

This is the bridge between your story and your reader’s world. Take your insight and relate it to something they might be facing. Help them see themselves in your words.

Example: "Maybe you’re staring at a blank screen too, wondering if it’s even worth sending that next email."

This is how a personal story becomes an invitation.

Part 5: The Invitation

Wrap it up. Offer a reflection, a gentle next step, or simply a question to carry with them. Don’t leave them in the emotional fog—guide them toward something solid.

Example: "What if your next email was written like you already belonged in their inbox?"

This is the close. Not a pitch. Not a push. Just an open hand.

Ethical Storytelling for Coaches

A good framework means little without strong intention. Here are the guiding principles that shape how and when I share personal stories in my coaching business.

Share from the Scar, Not the Wound

Writing from the wound means sharing something that still stings. It’s unprocessed. It’s raw. And while that can be powerful in private spaces, sharing from the wound in your emails can unintentionally place emotional labor on your audience.

When you write from the scar, you write from a place of reflection. You’ve done enough healing to hold the story responsibly. You’re not seeking validation—you’re offering insight.

Ask yourself:

• Am I grounded enough in this story to share it without needing something back?

• Can I hold this story without needing my reader to hold it for me?

• Have I made meaning from this yet?

You Are the Guide, Not the Guru

As coaches, it can be tempting to cast ourselves as the main character in every story. But you’re not the star—you’re the guide. Your job is to walk slightly ahead and shine a light.

Stories are most powerful when they serve the reader, not just spotlight the storyteller. Your reader doesn’t need you to be perfect. They need to see what’s possible.

Ask yourself:

• Is this story meant to impress, or to illuminate?

• Am I creating connection or reinforcing a pedestal?

• What’s in this story for my audience?

Emotion = Connection. Drama = Distraction.

Emotion is welcome. It’s what makes us human. But it needs to be held with care. If your story feels explosive or chaotic, it might not be ready to share.

Unprocessed drama can overwhelm your reader. Grounded emotion, on the other hand, invites them in.

Ask yourself:

• Is this emotion honest and integrated?

• Am I telling a story—or performing an unhealed part of it?

• Will this help my reader feel closer to themselves?

Be Real, But Be Responsible

Your story doesn’t have to be tidy. It doesn’t have to be polished. But it does have to be shared with care.

Responsibility in storytelling means knowing why you’re sharing and being clear on what your reader is walking into. If you’re still in emotional urgency, it may be worth holding the story a little longer.

Ask yourself:

• Am I sharing from reflection or from reaction?

• If no one replies, will I still feel okay about this email?

• Is this something I’d feel okay reading if I were in a tender place?

Always Land the Plane

Every story needs a landing. Not necessarily a lesson or a solution—but a sense of closure. Otherwise, you risk leaving your reader open-ended in a way that feels unresolved.

Landing the plane is about giving your story a center. It’s about saying: here’s why I told you this.

Ask yourself:

• Did I bring my reader somewhere they can stand?

• Did I offer something to take away?

• Did I leave the door open with care?

This Is Storytelling That Builds Trust

This is how you share stories that create clarity, not confusion. That offer support, not weight. That build connection without making your reader the container.

Whether you're writing weekly emails, welcome sequences, or returning to your list after a long break—this framework gives you a grounded way to connect.

You don’t need to overshare to be seen.
You don’t need to be polished to be powerful.
You just need to share what’s true—and ready.

That’s how we build trust. That’s how we build sustainable businesses.
That’s how we build email lists that last.

One grounded, generous story at a time.