No, You Can’t Have My Email Address
Surviving the age of the mailing list

Since stores re-opened, I’ve been trying to shop locally where I can. But I’m noticing a disturbing trend. At least half the places I’ve frequented have asked me to provide my email address at the cash register.
“That way, you won’t miss our great deals for members,” says one cashier. I’m not a member.
“It’s so I can send your e-receipt,” explains another.
“If you give me your email, you get an automatic 5% discount on your next purchase,” reports a third.
“No, thank you. I’m good.” I respond, always politely. It’s not the cashier’s fault, after all. This is part of their job now.
The other day, a cashier showed me a link on my receipt which led to a survey. “If you provide us with your information, you’ll receive two dollars.”
Two dollars.
Two dollars.
Who thinks I’m pimping out my email address for two dollars?
We’re in the age of the mailing list, and I’m not a fan. A few months ago, I made it my mission to clean out both of my active email addresses. Digital organization isn’t my forté, so they were in horrendous condition. If my email accounts were a representation of my physical space, you’d call me a hoarder.
Each of them had more than 10,000 unopened emails just sitting in my inbox. I didn’t know who half the people or stores sending me emails were, and I had no recollection of signing up for whatever product or service they provided.
Every night, I listened to a podcast and worked on cleaning one of my inboxes. When the podcast finished, I was finished for the day. That means I spent somewhere around an hour each day searching emails, filing emails, responding to emails, unsubscribing from emails, and deleting emails.
This went on for weeks. Finally, the day came when I was able to call a friend, bursting with pride, to tell her I had zero emails in either of my inboxes.
Conservatively, I spent 16 hours of my life cleaning inboxes and unsubscribing from things I hadn’t used in years, if ever.
The right company or person can legitimately provide you with value in an email. There are a few stores that are my ride-or-dies that I allow to send me their promotions. There are a few cultural and entertainment-related organizations as well.
But from now on, the rest of the world can pry my email address out of my cold, dead hands.
Those are some pretty dramatic words from a woman who, a few years ago, tried to make a go of selling online courses for freelance service providers who are introverts. To do that, I had the requisite lead magnet so I could build an email list. A few of them, actually. And they weren’t bad.
But they didn’t do well. I suspect there were a variety of reasons for that. It wasn’t for lack of a target market because I see a lot of introverted freelancers who hate sales on social media.
I think a big part of it was my own discomfort with asking people for an email address and their understandable aversion to handing over that information to a virtual stranger.
Now, I don’t think anyone should be embarrassed asking for compensation for their insights. I’ve signed up for a number of lead magnets in the past. I’m sure a lot of you reading this have, too. I’ve gotten PDFs and short online courses as well.
The thing about a lead magnet is it has to walk the fine line between providing enough information to be valuable and not so much that the person feels their issue is now resolved and needs no further assistance.






