It’s been almost ten years since I started my first business with my dad and my brother. I’m quick to downplay my role in that company, and the next one we purchased a few years later, but that’s how I was raised. Be humble, don’t take credit, and keep your head down. It’s been an adjustment trying to sift through various narratives I have about my career, and writing my book was a helpful exercise for that. All this to say: while it might not make much sense when I say that starting my own consulting company is terrifying – it really is.
I was so incredibly thrilled when I signed a contract with my first client. After a month of quite a bit of work, I was equally excited to send over my first ever invoice for my company. Until my client suddenly ghosted me after a month of nearly daily communication.
Cue all those self-sabotaging thoughts. After a few back and forth emails that still make me uncomfortable to think about, my client paid. It was clear that the intention, from the beginning, was not to pay me for any of my work.
There are just a million reasons to quit, aren’t there? The very first deposit in my shiny new business checking account was tainted with the knowledge that I had to “ask nicely” to get what I had rightfully earned, and they had contractually agreed to pay. It seemed fairly obvious that this client didn’t see value in the business relationship so I planned to just leave it at that, one month’s worth of work.
One of my biggest supporters wouldn’t let me leave it at that.
“They signed a contract, right? With a monthly service fee.”
“Yep.”
“The contract has provisions that very clearly state how and when to provide notice of cancellation, correct?”
My face heating up at this point, “Of course.”
“Aaaaaaand they didn’t provide any notice of cancellation.”
Fully embarrassed at this point, “Correct.”
“Well! It looks like you’re with them for another month then!”
“It’s pretty obvious they don’t want to work with me.”
“Listen, Netflix doesn’t care if you have it playing nonstop the entire month or if you never turn your tv on, you still gotta pay. Be Netflix.”
This was incredibly difficult for me to process and even harder to take action on. But I did it. I sent an email half way through the month reminding the client to let me know of any projects I could help with. And at the end of the month, I sent an invoice.
I didn’t get ghosted this time. The client responded immediately that payment was initiated and that they wouldn’t be needing my services next month.
I’ve written before how easy it is for me (and for women, statistically) to advocate for everyone but themselves. From job duties, pay raises, schedule flexibility, we always evaluate everyone’s needs before our own. I have learned to advocate very strongly for my companies, but that clearly didn’t translate to advocating for myself.
You get to define how you’re valued. If you’re working for yourself, you get to dictate literally the dollar value that your time, effort, and expertise are worth. You have to land on some sort of valuation in order to negotiate, sign a contract, and eventually invoice the client. If you work for a larger organization, you might be surprised to learn you have the exact same power. You value your work in how you negotiate your pay. You value your time in how you create and adhere to work time boundaries. You value you effort and expertise by how your team responds to your leadership.
I’m not attempting to oversimplify the many considerations that go into hiring negotiations and staying at a job versus trying something new. But it’s important to pay very close attention to how you might be inadvertently devaluing yourself. The client that calls you after hours knowing that you’ll always pick up. The boss who won’t give you a raise because they assume the benefits they provide will prevent you from ever leaving. The team member that always slacks off and doesn’t do their work because they know you’ll cover for them so that you don’t look bad. It happens gradually, and maybe even unintentionally at first. Remember, they all have an incentive to devalue you. And you’re the only one who can ever assert your true value to those around you.
