I Grew a Moustache Over Christmas Break. Here’s What It Taught Me About Fundraising

Over Christmas break, I grew a moustache.

Not a “trying something new” moustache. Definitely not a “this feels authentic to my brand” moustache.

This was a commitment-free, mildly concerning, definitely polarizing moustache.

And because it’s 2026 and I’m back from a nearly four-week digital blackout, I figured I’d do what every online influencer does:

Pretend this completely unnecessary personal choice taught me something SUPER DEEP about business, leadership, and fundraising.

Additionally, you get to look upon this moustache masterpiece and be haunted by it.

You’re welcome.

Lesson #1: People Have Opinions (Even When You Didn’t Ask)

The moustache has been live for approximately five minutes and already there are a boatload of people who love it, a crapload of people who hate it, my children have said it makes them deeply uncomfortable, and at least one person asked me if I lost my Fantasy Football league this year and wondered if this was the collective punishment for placing last.

By the way, these are nearly exactly the reactions you will get when you do fundraising differently.

The moment you change your appeal language, or ask for a bigger gift, or stop running that same tired event or say “no” to something that no longer works.

People react.

And here’s the truth we don’t say out loud enough in fundraising: Neutral reactions don’t move money.

If everyone feels “fine” about your work, you’re probably playing it safe.

And safe doesn’t inspire generosity.

Now, I’m not saying you need to commit fraud or blow up your entire programming or mission to get attention. (In fact, please don’t do this at all.) But I do want to encourage you to think in ways that reject our common agreement that the way we’ve always done it, is the most dangerous phrase in the English language.

Lesson #2: You Can’t Please Everyone. So Stop Trying

I could shave this moustache tomorrow.

But if I keep it, some people will be relieved (my wife, for an example) and others will mourn its loss (my brother, who thinks it’s hilarious, for an example.)

Same thing happens when nonprofits try to make everyone happy. Whether it is donors, board members, staff, volunteers, or that one person who gave $15 in 2014 and still emails you opinions about how you should run the organization the way he remembers it 37 years ago.

Here’s a nice little reminder for 2026: Clarity beats consensus.

The organizations that raise money well know who they’re for, know who they’re NOT for and they’ve stopped chasing universal approval.

Fundraising isn’t about being liked. It’s about being understood by individuals with capacity and influence.

(Also, if your board wants everyone to love your message, you’re about to grow a metaphorical moustache whether you like it or not.)

The best fundraisers I have ever worked with know that trying to be everything to everyone makes you nothing to anyone. You know your niche. Lean all the way in.

Lesson #3: Commitment Is the Point

Here’s the thing about moustaches: They’re awkward before they’re impressive.

That’s what I keep telling myself anyway.

There’s a weird middle phase where people aren’t sure what’s happening. That phase is straight up growth.

Gross, uncomfortable, itchy and really unappealing growth.

Sound familiar?

That’s launching a major gifts strategy with no identified major donors. That’s shifting your donor journey to include impact statements when you’ve not tracked impact before. That’s investing into your own systems instead of patching everything with duct tape. That’s becoming really curious about your supporters by asking bigger, clearer and more transparent questions.

And if it feels uncomfortable? Good. That’s because it is. But if you quit too early, you never get to the part where it works.

Fundraising success almost always looks awkward before you look back, smack your forehead and think to yourself, “Well duh. That was obvious.”

Think about just being consistent in picking up the phone to call donors and supporters to say “thank you.” No ask, just gratitude. That work, every single day committing to conversations rarely results in immediate gifts coming your way. But months from your initial voicemail simple acknowledging their generosity (and continued updates throughout the year) your consistency pays off with a larger donation or recommitment to the organization.

You’ll never get there if you don’t commit to the bit. The very hairy bit.

Lesson #4: Not Everything Needs to Be a “Personal Brand Moment”

This moustache is not a thought leadership strategy. It is not a rebrand. It is not a lifestyle choice. (Ok, maybe a little bit of a lifestyle choice.)

It’s just a thing I did.

Over my 3 week sabbatical from work/emails/socials I decided that shaving was overrated. This is just the end result of extra relaxation with no urgent tasks or to dos.

And that’s another reminder for fundraisers (and to me, frankly): Not every story needs to be optimized. Not every post needs a takeaway. Not every moment needs a call to action.

In a world that is being constantly pushed AI, automation and ease – I think the trend for 2026 and beyond will be a bit more raw and real.

I’m convinced more than ever that authenticity will beat polish. I’m obsessed with the idea that humor will win over perfection. And I know for a fact that donors will connect with you because you’re an incredible human, not because your copy was “strategic.”

(Yes, I see the irony and am self aware about all of this. And yes, I wrote a whole blog about it. And I have zero shame about it.)

Final Thought (Before Someone Tells Me to Shave)

The moustache might go.

Or it might stay.

That’s a 2026 decision (or an ultimatum? HA!)

But the lessons?  Bold beats boring. Clarity beats comfort. Commitment beats consensus.

Those will stick.

If growing a questionable moustache helps remind us to fundraise with more confidence, more honesty, and less fear of internet opinions?

Worth it.

And if nothing else?

It’s a hell of a fun conversation starter.

-Patrick