Let’s stop pretending you’re one polished sentence away from building a full practice.
If you think memorizing some elevator pitch is gonna get you more patients, you’ve been drinking the same “business coach Kool-Aid” that left half our profession broke and burnt out.
“Hi, I help busy professionals realign their energy through ancient modalities rooted in Eastern wisdom.”
Cool. What the f**k does that mean?
Here’s the real talk: most of these elevator pitches are just vague, over-rehearsed BS. They don’t sound human. They don’t connect. And worst of all, they’re boring. You’re not in a WeWork trying to pitch your startup to an investor. You’re a healer. A technician. A problem solver. And your ability to explain why someone should see you should not sound like it came out of a templated webinar.
Years ago, I went to one of those healthcare networking meetups—you know the kind, all muffins and small talk. I was still early in practice, still playing “professional.” A chiropractor asked what I did. I gave my perfectly practiced pitch: “I integrate East Asian medical theory with advanced neuromuscular therapies to address complex pain.”
His eyes glazed over before I finished the second syllable of “neuromuscular.” That’s when it hit me: I was saying what I thought sounded smart, not what actually landed.
So I tried something new.
Same guy. New answer.
“I help people who’ve tried everything else for chronic pain and are still suffering. Especially when it’s pelvic, invisible, or weird enough that no one else wants to touch it.”
He lit up. “Oh damn, I have like three patients I should send you.”
That’s the difference.
You don’t need a pitch. You need clarity. You need guts.
Ask yourself: if someone met you at a party and asked what you do, could you say something so specific and compelling they’d remember it?
Try this on:
- “I work with people whose pelvic pain has made them feel invisible or crazy.”
- “I help post-op patients recover faster and avoid another surgery.”
- “I’m the person you see when your pain doesn’t show up on an MRI but still ruins your life.”
No jargon. No BS. Just you, saying what you do with a heartbeat and a spine.
Here’s the takeaway:
Your job isn’t to sound like a LinkedIn robot. Your job is to connect. To be remembered. To tell the truth—your truth—about what you do and why it matters.
So yeah, f**k the elevator pitch. Start speaking like someone who’s done time in the ranks. Who’s treated the cases no one else could. Who knows, deeply, the people they’re meant to help.
That’s how you build trust. That’s how you get referrals. That’s how you grow.
Not from pitches. From presence.
