End of term 4. Sometime in the 90s.

The ubiquitous end-of-year class clean-up. Turfing unloved art projects. Excavating dust bunnies from corners. The kind of organised chaos only a classroom of 10-year-olds can produce.

I'd been tasked with cleaning the bathroom mirrors and, feather duster in hand, I headed down the corridor.

Then—I spotted them.

Cory.

Toni.

Laughing…

Having ENTIRELY too much fun together.

Ahh Cory.

Kind-hearted and sweet. One hazel eye, one green. A smile like a cool breeze on a warm summer's day. Ten-year-old hearts never stood a chance.

I'd had a thing for Cory foreverrrrr. Like, at LEAST since Term 3.
I dreamed of passing notes with Cory. Playing foursquare with Cory. Munching canteen paddle pops with Cory. (Rainbow, obviously.)

But the inner monologue was loud: He'd never feel the same. He wouldn't even notice me. I just couldn't get up the guts to do anything about it.

And now, here he was… with Toni. Easy-going. Fun. An actual sports-liker.

Good for her.

Heart thumping, sweat moustache forming on my sweat moustache—I decided:

I had to get his attention before it was too late.

I looked at the feather duster in my hand.
Colourful and cute, with tickly little feathers.

I made a snap decision.

I changed course from my bathroom mission and sauntered (stumbled) toward Cory.

(And Toni. 😬)

"Hey, Cory!" I called—coolly delivered, I thought.

I charmingly waved (awkwardly flapped) the feather duster at his face…
And waited for his sunbeam smile to shine on me.

I gave Cory a black eye.*

Because where I'd pictured flexible, pliable feathers for days, there was, in fact, a HARD WOODEN STICK wrapped in feathers.

Which connected, quite firmly, with Cory's eye.

I had reacted, rushed in, and missed the mark entirely.

I didn't show Cory the real me.

And just like that, I'd blown it.

That is precisely what I don't want for your brand.

A crush and a brand have a lot in common.

Me + Cory = Your brand + your customer.
Cory + Toni = Your customer + your competitor.

A proper love triangle.

Your brand needs to intentionally show Cory (your audience) why he'll choose you. It needs to stand out without giving anyone a black eye. And it needs to make the choice obvious. Not Toni. You.

Luckily, I’m better at brands than winning over my childhood crush.

Here’s where to start

1. Brand audit.
What have you got? Do you look and sound consistent everywhere your audience finds you? Consistency is what makes you recognisable, and recognisable is memorable.

2. Market audit.
What is Toni doing? You can't stand out if you don't know what you're standing out from.

3. Your point of difference.
What do you do differently? It can be small. But something specific, told with conviction, is what makes people remember you. Get that into your visuals and your copy, and Cory will know EXACTLY who he wants.

Moral of the story?

I know how to snuff out a budding childhood crush (less helpful).
AND—if you want your audience to know you’re the brand for them, you’re in the right place.

Lynley @ Lannd.

*I genuinely don't know if it was actually a black eye. Added for drama.

P.S. Cory and Toni—if you're reading this—I wish you both all the very best.

Image credits:
Top: @jojofalkillustration via Giphy
Middle: @womenshistory via Giphy
Bottom: 4gifs.com via Giphy

First published March 2026.
This content is for general information only and not intended as specific advice.

A love-triangle and a brand

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