I think most people would describe me as relatively “fearless.” I have no problem speaking in front of a crowd. During a performance, I don’t hesitate to plop down on the lap of some unsuspecting fellow just to see him squirm and get a laugh from the crowd. Aside from heights and snakes, there is not much that sets off fear in me especially when it comes to dealing with people.

Well, there IS that one thing…

Cold calling. Oh my goodness, how I loathe the “cold call.” It literally makes me feel ill to think about picking up the phone and bugging someone in the middle of the day to tell them something they didn’t ask about. I will come up with 101 other things to do to avoid cold calling. For example, I decided to write this blog post today instead of cold calling. Don’t judge me!

In order to come to terms with why I hate cold-calling so much, I made a list and uncovered some themes:

• I don’t like bothering people. I don’t like to be bothered so the last thing I want to do is bother someone else.

• I don’t want to get in a confrontation with someone when they feel bothered. People get really mean, especially on the phone when they don’t have to look you in the eyes.

• I’m afraid they are going to ask me a question that I don’t know.

• They are probably going to let it go to voicemail anyway, so why bother.

• I don’t want anyone to think bad thoughts about me or my business by making a bad first impression.

• Cold-calling is a fishing game. Most of the time you don’t really know why you are calling the person other than you feel they could probably use what you’re selling. You just hope that you can quickly spew out a bunch of info and something will spur a deeper conversation. That isn’t fun. I like to be pointed with my interactions with others.

• Is cold-calling even an effective method of sales engagement anymore?

When I was young, I told everyone for years that I wanted to be an astronaut. I said I would study astronomy and work at NASA and fly in rockets and cool stuff like that. I said all this and fully believed it, even though I was marginal at math and science bored me to tears. No one ever told me that I couldn’t do it, but surely my teachers and parents must have been thinking that it was a rather ridiculous quest for my future. Ah, to be young again and to wallow in such self-belief! Reflecting on this made me think about something. At what point did we grow up and start talking ourselves right out of our dreams?

I think most folks would say that “real life” took over. Our “dreams” were replaced by bills or early parenthood or all the “adulting” we were expected to do the day after we turn 18. Others might attribute it to lack of money for lessons, or a parent who told them their dream was unachievable or asinine. And still others would blame a lack of belief in themselves, or all out fear of failure. Whatever the reason, too many of us leave our inner most desires behind only to be left with the yearning of “what if.”