I've spent the last 17 years working with clients. Building relationships, growing accounts, navigating difficult conversations, and delivering commercial impact for some of the biggest retail brands in the UK and the US.
It's been an education. Not just professionally, but personally. And the most important thing I've learned isn't about strategy, or growth metrics, or how to turn a $50,000 proof of concept into a multi-million dollar account.
It's about change. And knowing the difference between change that moves a partnership forward and change that doesn't.
The cult of change in client relationships
We talk about change like it's inherently good. Businesses rebrand it as evolution, transformation, the next chapter. Client-side leaders frame restructures as opportunity. The language is always positive, always forward-looking, always designed to make you feel like resistance is the problem rather than the thing being resisted.
And sometimes they're right. I've watched client organisations transform themselves brilliantly, making hard decisions, communicating honestly, bringing their agencies and partners with them. When change is done well in a client relationship, it's genuinely exciting to be part of.
But I've also watched change get used differently. A reorganisation that reshuffles the deck without answering anyone's real questions. A new framework with impressive language that, when you strip it back, is just a different arrangement of the same problems. A procurement process dressed up as strategic realignment.
The difference isn't always obvious from the outside. But after enough years, you learn to feel it.
Knowing the value you actually bring
The other thing many years in client partnerships teaches you is what you're actually worth to a client. And how rarely that's reflected in how you're treated.
Not just commercially, though that matters too. I mean the broader question of whether the client you're spending enormous energy on genuinely values what you bring. Whether the trust goes both ways. Whether the people making decisions about your relationship have actually thought carefully about the partnership, or whether you've become a line in a procurement spreadsheet.
I've been fortunate to work with clients who genuinely cared about the partnership as much as the output. Who pushed back hard but fairly. Who held you accountable and also had your back. Those relationships are the ones that last, and the ones that deliver the most.
And I've experienced what it feels like when the gap between being told a partnership is valued and actually being treated as though it is becomes impossible to ignore.
The uncomfortable truth about loyalty in partnerships
I've always believed in showing up properly. Fixing problems when they need fixing, not when it's convenient. Investing in client relationships over the long term rather than playing short games. Going above and beyond because the work matters, not because someone is measuring billable hours.
That approach has served me well. And I don't regret it.
But I've learned that loyalty without reciprocity is just habit. That doing excellent work and letting it speak for itself only works if someone is actually listening. And that the longer a partnership continues without genuine mutual commitment, the more you have to ask whether the problem is the client, the model, or your own unwillingness to demand better.
It isn't always the client. But sometimes it is. And recognising the difference is one of the most important commercial skills you can develop.
Not all change in a partnership is progress
There's a version of commercial wisdom that says embrace every change, stay adaptable, trust the process. I don't entirely agree.
Some change is worth embracing. New scope, genuine progression, a structure that reflects what both parties actually contribute. That's worth leaning into even when it feels uncomfortable.
But change that asks you to accept less than you've earned, delivered with confident language and positive framing, is something different. A partnership model that quietly shifts the terms without an honest conversation. A renewal that looks like growth on paper but feels like retreat.
Recognising the difference isn't resistance. It's clarity.
What it comes down to
The most important skill I've developed across 17 years of client partnerships isn't account management or commercial strategy or stakeholder relationships, though all of those matter.
It's the ability to look at a situation clearly, without wishful thinking, and understand what it's actually telling me.
The best partnerships I've been part of have had that quality of honesty on both sides. The ones that didn't last, or that stopped delivering, were usually the ones where one side or the other stopped being honest: about expectations, about value, about what they actually needed.
The work I do now is built on that understanding. I take on a small number of clients at a time, on terms that work for both of us, and I stay in them properly. Not because that's a clever commercial model, though it is, but because that's what a real partnership looks like.
And after 17 years, I'm not interested in anything less.
Work with me
If this resonates,
let's have a conversation.