When I first opened my direct pediatric care practice, I discovered a skill that none of my previous jobs had ever required of me: marketing. During my years working for a community health center and later for a hospital system, patients simply appeared on my schedule. At the time, I never gave much thought to why. Looking back, it seems almost funny. Of course patients didn’t magically find me. Entire teams of people were working behind the scenes on branding, advertising, referral relationships, physician recruitment, community outreach, and search engine optimization. I was simply insulated from all of it. My job was to practice medicine.
Then I opened my own practice, and suddenly I was the marketing department.
Like many physicians—especially those of us who identify as introverts—I found this incredibly uncomfortable. I had to write the copy for my website, record an introductory video, create social media posts, network in my community, and answer inquiry calls from prospective families. None of those tasks resembled anything I had been trained to do during medical school or residency. They certainly weren’t activities that came naturally to me.
Over the years, however, I’ve learned that confidence in marketing is not a personality trait. It’s a skill that can be developed. Some physicians are naturally charismatic and extroverted, while others are quieter and more reserved. Some enjoy public speaking, while others would happily avoid it forever. That’s perfectly okay. Every personality type can learn to communicate the value of their practice effectively. As I often tell the medical students in my advanced medical Spanish course—where they are thrown into mock clinical encounters entirely in Spanish every week—you have to become more comfortable being uncomfortable. Confidence is rarely something that arrives before action. More often, it develops because you’ve repeatedly stepped outside your comfort zone.
One pattern I’ve noticed while coaching other DPC physicians is that many of us unintentionally undermine our own marketing. We lead conversations with the aspects of our practices that make us feel the most self-conscious.
I used to answer inquiry calls something like this:
“Well…I don’t accept insurance, and I don’t stock vaccines…but I do offer longer visits and direct text access.”
Notice what happens in that conversation. Before I’ve said a single exciting thing about my practice, I’ve already framed the discussion around limitations. Whether or not those details ultimately matter, I’ve inadvertently communicated that they’re the most important features of my practice.
Over time, I learned to reverse that order.
Now I begin by describing the experience families receive.
“Parents love our membership because they receive an hour for most well-child visits, they can text me seven days a week, and we build genuine long-term relationships. Just yesterday, a mother texted because her baby was waking throughout the night with teething pain, and I was able to guide her through several strategies without anyone needing to leave home. Last week, a family was vacationing in Costa Rica when their seven-year-old developed diarrhea. We texted back and forth, I helped them identify medications available locally, and together we navigated the situation from thousands of miles away. That’s the kind of relationship our members experience.”
Only after painting that picture do I explain practical details like insurance, vaccines, or other logistical aspects of the practice.
The facts haven’t changed. The story has.
As physicians, we’re trained to be balanced, objective, and careful in how we communicate. Those are wonderful qualities in the exam room, but they can sometimes make us hesitant to fully own the value we provide. Marketing isn’t about exaggerating your services or becoming someone you’re not. It’s about accurately communicating the tremendous value that already exists.
Remember that families aren’t purchasing “one-hour appointments” or “direct texting.” Those are features. What they’re really investing in is peace of mind. They’re investing in having a pediatrician who truly knows their child, who has time to uncover root causes instead of simply managing symptoms, and who is available to guide them through countless moments of uncertainty that would otherwise lead to unnecessary urgent care visits, emergency department visits, or sleepless nights.
Perhaps the biggest lesson I’ve learned is that marketing isn’t only about the words we choose. It’s also about the energy behind those words.
Think about people promoting products on social media. Some clearly believe in what they’re recommending. Others sound like they’re simply reciting a script because someone is paying them to do so. Even if the words are identical, most of us can sense the difference almost immediately.
Prospective families sense the same thing.
One exercise that has helped me tremendously is to picture one of my favorite patient families whenever I’m talking about my practice. Every pediatrician has one: the family you’ve cared for for years, whose children light up when they see you, who trust you completely, and who tell everyone how grateful they are to have found your practice. When I imagine speaking directly to that family, my confidence naturally changes. I’m no longer trying to convince strangers that my practice has value. I’m simply describing something that I know has profoundly benefited people I care about.
That subtle shift changes everything. My voice becomes more relaxed, my enthusiasm becomes genuine rather than rehearsed, and the conversation feels less like a sales pitch and more like an invitation.
It’s also worth remembering that confidence grows from evidence. In the beginning, almost every new practice owner wrestles with self-doubt. I certainly did. I wondered whether families would understand direct care, whether they would see enough value to justify the membership fee, and whether I was asking too much. Those doubts gradually faded—not because I learned better marketing techniques, but because I accumulated hundreds of experiences confirming the value of the model. Parents expressed gratitude for being able to reach me after hours. Children with chronic conditions improved because we finally had enough time to address root causes. Families referred their friends because they wanted others to experience the same kind of care.
Those experiences gradually transformed belief into conviction.
Ultimately, I don’t think most DPC physicians have a marketing problem. I think they have a belief problem. Deep down, many of us are still uncomfortable acknowledging just how extraordinary our practices truly are. We worry that confidence will come across as arrogance, when in reality the opposite is often true. Genuine confidence is simply an honest recognition of the value you provide.
If you truly believe that your model delivers better access, stronger relationships, more thoughtful care, and a better experience for families, don’t be afraid to communicate that clearly. You’re not trying to persuade every family to join your practice. You’re simply helping the right families recognize what they’ve been looking for all along.
And once you genuinely believe in the awesomeness of what you offer, everyone else begins to believe it, too.
If you’d like more help with marketing, check out our free “Marketing for Introverts” masterclass! Or, book a one-on-one consultation with Marina or Phil.
