Why Most People Bomb Their Intros (And How to Finally Get It Right)

Still here? 

Good.

Because this isn’t just another post about communication tips you’ll forget tomorrow.

This is about why most introductions fall flat—fast—and what to do about it.

But let’s rewind a bit.

Jerry Seinfeld nailed it in a short clip that still makes me laugh and wince.

"I saw a thing, actually a study that said: speaking in front of a crowd is considered the number one fear of the average person. I found that amazing. Number two, was death. Death is number two? This means, to the average person, if you have to be at a funeral, you would rather be in the casket than doing the eulogy."

Funny?

Sure.

But he wasn’t kidding.

Most people would rather die than speak in front of a crowd.

But here's the thing nobody tells you.

It’s not just speeches that freak people out.

It’s introducing themselves. 

It’s those tiny moments—the handshake, the first hello, the opening line—that turn even the smartest people into a mess.

Because an introduction is public speaking.

One person or one hundred—it’s the same fear.

“What if I screw this up?”

And most do.

Not because they’re bad speakers.

But because no one ever taught them what a real introduction is supposed to do.

And that’s a real problem if you care about being remembered, trusted, or hired.

Most intros are dead on arrival. (Nouns are boring, use verbs)

If your intro sounds like this:

"I’m a front-end developer. (silence)”

“I’m a project manager. (silence)”

“I am a head of medical. (silence)”

...you’re already losing them.

Not because you said the wrong words.

But because you stopped at a label.

You gave them a title—and nothing to care about.

Most people won’t ask what that title actually means.

They’ll just nod, smile politely, and forget you two minutes later.

You might as well be invisible.

You won’t stick.

You won’t get remembered.

The function of an introduction isn’t to impress.

It’s to connect.

Let me repeat that.

The function of an introduction isn’t to impress.

It’s to connect.

A title doesn’t tell anyone who you are.

It doesn’t show what you value or why they should care.

It doesn’t invite curiosity.

It confuses.

And if you confuse people, you lose them.

So—how do you introduce yourself without sounding like a robot?

You build an intro that punches above its weight, sparks curiosity, and opens a door.

Answer four simple questions:

1. What you do

2. Who you help

3. How you help

4. Why this matters to you

That’s it.

No scripts.

No buzzwords.

No hiding behind job titles.

Here’s an example in real life:

"I’m Marian Chrvala, a communication coach.

I help bold thinkers—founders, leaders, and teams—say what they mean and make it stick.

If your message feels messy, or your pitch gets polite nods but no real traction, we’ll fix that together.

We’ll cut through the noise, sharpen your voice, and build the kind of clarity that gets people to lean in—not tune out.

We’ll write, speak, rewrite, rehearse.

In real time. With real stakes.

Why?

Because nothing drives me more than seeing a smart person with a great idea finally get the response they deserve.

Not just a clap.

Not just a click.

But a yes.

That moment when their words land—and something shifts in the room.

That’s why I do this work.

Because the right message, said the right way, can move people—and move the world."

Notice something?

It has structure.

It tells you a little about my work—and a lot about what I stand for.

Instead of dropping a job title like “Scrum Master" or “SAP Consultant” and hoping people get it, you give them context.

You give them a reason to care.

You make it easy for them to lean in and ask, "Tell me more."

Want another example?

"I’m Marian Chrvala, a copywriter who builds websites that grab attention, build trust, and move people to act.

I help tech companies—from hungry startups to well-known giants—turn complex products into clear, bold messages that sell.

I dig into what makes you different, then build sharp copy that captures attention, earns trust, and drives action.

From your homepage to your headline, every word does its job.

No fluff.

No filler.

Just clear, confident copy that makes people say, ‘I get it’ and ‘I want it.’

Because I’ve seen what happens when great products get ignored: it’s not the tech—it’s the messaging.

And I hate seeing smart teams lose momentum because they can’t explain what makes them great.

When the message finally clicks, everything changes—traction, trust, growth.

That’s why I do this work.”

That’s what it looks like when you stop hiding behind a title.

Now it’s your turn.

Grab a pen—or hit record—and say who the hell you really are.

Not just what you do.

But what you bring.

Why it matters.

And why anyone should care.

Because if you can’t say it clearly, you’re not just losing their attention—you’re losing your shot.

PS. Do you struggle to set yourself apart from your competitors? Does your tone of voice lack a little personality? Either way, get in touch and I’ll help you become remarkable. Or get more communication advice that doesn't suck here.