The moment before the wheel spins

I was setting up the seasonal promotion, the one with the wheel. My cursor hovered over the email field, and I paused. I didn't want it to feel like a transaction, like we were just trading data for a chance.

That hesitation, and what it meant

I realized my own inbox was full of sign-ups I'd forgotten. The last thing I wanted was to add to someone else's clutter. It felt important to make the ask feel separate from the fun part, to let the wheel be its own thing.The goal wasn't to gather addresses. It was just to offer a little surprise during a busy season. If someone wanted to join in, great. If not, that was perfectly fine, too.

Leaving the choice entirely open

So I built it with a clear 'skip' button, right next to the submit one. The language was simple: 'Your turn' and 'Maybe later'. No asterisks, no tiny print about future emails. Just a straightforward moment of choice.It felt cleaner that way. The wheel itself held the value—a small, genuine gesture. The participation was just an optional door to it, one you could walk past without a second thought.

What the wheel actually held

The discounts were modest, things you might actually use. Nothing felt like a trick to get you to spend more than you intended. It was more about the gesture of luck than the size of the number.