What I thought about insurance before entering the industry

When protection doesn't feel personal

Insurance in the background of everyday life

Before I started working at Seamless Insure, I rarely thought about insurance. Not because it wasn’t important, but because it felt distant, complex, and removed from everyday life. Insurance was something you knew you had to have, something you dealt with when necessary, but not something you actively engaged with or felt curious about. It existed in the background, only becoming relevant the moment something went wrong.  

Like many people, I associated insurance with long policy documents, dense wording and systems that felt built around internal logic rather than real human behaviour. It often felt difficult to understand, even harder to trust. Not because the intention was bad, but because the experience didn’t feel designed and targeted.  

When communication creates distance

Visually and tonally, insurance can feel outdated. From websites to language, it was hard to feel represented. Although insurance exists to protect people in very personal situations, the human element felt missing. And while insurance is talked about constantly, in the media and in everyday conversations, it’s rarely explained in a way that feels intuitive or human. It’s discussed as a necessity, not as a service. As protection, but not as an experience.  

I never engaged with insurance, not because I think people should do that on a day-to-day level, but mainly because it often created a sense of uncertainty rather than reassurance. There was always this feeling of “what if I’m missing something” that made the experience slightly more stressful than comforting. I understand the intention of keeping insurance simple, but simplicity shouldn't come at the cost of clarity or identity. In many cases, it felt difficult to understand what actually separated one provider from another. The differences were subtle, the messaging similar, and the value hard to distinguish. To be honest, the insurance provider I ended up with wasn’t chosen because it felt particularly suitable, but because my family used the same company. Since the communication across providers felt largely similar, it did not seem to matter which one I chose. And that, I believe, is part of the problem: when people can’t see or feel the difference, engagement disappears.  

Looking back, I realised that the distance largely comes down to how insurance is communicated, through personalisation, brand message and identity. When something is overly simplified, it can create uncertainty and leave you feeling like just one of many, rather than personally understood. But when it’s overly complex, it becomes inaccessible, and people disengage. From the outside, insurance often appeared to be about selling products and managing risk. But stepping closer to the industry revealed something more interesting: that at its core, insurance isn’t really about selling at all.  

From product to peace of mind

Trust is the real foundation

What became clear to me was that insurance is fundamentally built on trust, or at least, that’s how it needs to be built to truly work. Not in an abstract or theoretical sense, but in a practical one. People rely on insurance in moments when they have little control: when something breaks, when something goes wrong and when they’re already under stress. In those moments, the product itself matters as much as the experience around it. The question isn’t just “what am I covered for?” but also “can I rely on this to work when I need it to?”.  

Policies and coverage are the framework, but trust is built through reliability, clarity and consistency. When those elements are in place, insurance becomes human-centred and easier to understand, removing the need for people to navigate uncertainty on their own, especially in moments that are already stressful. 

In that sense, insurance isn’t all about contracts, but also about confidence.  

When insurance becomes support, not stress

Many of the frustrations people associate with insurance don’t come from the product itself, but rather from how the product is communicated and activated. What struck me the most is how much this friction is avoidable. When insurance is designed with the user in mind, when communication is clear, and the focus shifts from the product to the person, it becomes something entirely different. It moves from being a distant obligation to a practical layer of support in everyday life. Insurance companies serve a wide and diverse audience, but it’s about understanding the shared needs behind that diversity that a real connection is created. When people feel understood rather than overwhelmed, insurance becomes a part of their lives and not another source of stress. 

When technology is used thoughtfully, it can make insurance feel lighter, more responsive, without sacrificing reliability or control. In many ways, this comes down to brand rather than the product. How a company communicates, positions itself and builds trust often matters just as much as what it technically offers. A brand that truly understands its existing and potential customers reduces uncertainty. It makes people feel safer, more confident and more willing to trust the product behind it. Seeing examples of this in practice made me realise that insurance isn’t outdated by nature; it’s often just poorly translated to modern expectations, and to the people it’s meant to serve. 

When all of these pieces come together, insurance becomes something quietly powerful. A system that works in the background, adapts to real life, and offers reassurance when it’s needed the most. Because when insurance is done well, it isn’t just about selling protection, but about enabling peace of mind  in a way that feels natural, reliable and human.