Here’s the truth bomb: your “too muchness” is not the problem. Their blandness is.
You’ve spent years swallowing your sparkle, shrinking your voice, and sanding down your edges to fit into rooms that couldn’t handle your light. And for what? To be accepted by people who wouldn’t know authenticity if it danced naked on their desk.
Let’s call it like it is: the emotional labor you pour into your work, your clients, your content—it’s powerful. It’s expensive. And it’s time we started treating it like the goldmine it is.
This is your manifesto. For the bold. The weird. The emotionally fluent and the spiritually fed. You’re not too much. You’re the main event. And it’s time to act like it.
The Emotional Load of Client Work
Most people don’t realize that working with a creative, coach, or consultant isn’t just a transaction—it’s a transfer of energy. And that energy? It’s heavy.
When you hold space for others—when you strategize, soothe, stretch, and support—you’re doing way more than delivering a service. You’re offering clarity in chaos. You’re carrying unspoken grief, dreams, and fears. You’re doing psychic labor with a professional smile.
But here’s the kicker: most of this goes unpaid. Unacknowledged. It gets lumped under “value-adds” or “great client experience.” Translation? Free labor.
This isn’t about being resentful. It’s about being real. You’re not just editing copy—you’re untangling someone’s existential crisis. You’re not just designing a logo—you’re creating an identity rebirth.
So why are you pricing like you’re selling widgets?
You don’t need to monetize every emotion. But you do need to recognize that your energetic bandwidth is a resource. One that deserves boundaries. And compensation.
How Discounting Devalues the Whole Relationship
Discounting isn’t generous—it’s dangerous.
When you cut your rates to be “accessible” (read: palatable), you’re not just devaluing your work—you’re setting the tone for the entire relationship. And often, that tone is: “I’ll bend so you feel comfortable.”
Newsflash: comfort is not the goal. Clarity is. And when clients don’t pay you what your emotional labor is worth, clarity gets cloudy real fast.
Here’s what happens when you undercharge:
You overgive. You overdeliver. You overextend.
You start to resent the work, the client, and yourself.
You stay in client dynamics that feel like emotional hostage situations.
And the kicker? The clients who push back on your prices are always the ones who require the most emotional bandwidth. Coincidence? I think not.
Discounts don’t make your work more impactful. They just make it easier to ignore the power behind it.
Raise your rates. Say no to clients who don’t get it. Let money match the magic you’re moving.
Boundaries in Pricing
Here’s the part creatives skip when setting rates: boundaries.
Pricing isn’t just a number. It’s a container. A signal. A structure that tells your clients: “This is how we play, this is how we honor each other, and this is what it costs to be held like this.”
Your pricing should reflect the energy required—not just the output delivered.
Ask yourself:
How much emotional labor is involved in this work?
What support do I need to show up fully?
Where have I historically overgiven—and how do I prevent that?
Then, build pricing around those answers. Include buffer time. Include energy recovery. Include strategy calls that aren’t just tactical, but emotional tuning forks.
And when someone says, “Wow, that’s expensive,” you get to say: “It’s designed to be.”
You’re not here to justify your prices. You’re here to own them.
Educating Clients with Compassion and Clarity
Some clients truly don’t get it. Not because they’re rude—but because they’ve never seen emotional labor named and valued.
So teach them.
Set the tone from day one. Tell them what you hold, how you hold it, and what it costs to be in a container that deep. Be compassionate, but clear. Boundaried, but soft.
You can say things like:
“This work involves more than deliverables—it involves energy. That’s factored into my pricing.”
“I provide emotional support alongside strategy. That’s part of the value—and the investment.”
“Scope creep often looks like unspoken emotional asks. Let’s clarify up front to protect us both.”
This isn’t about being defensive. It’s about being definitive. Teaching your clients to respect your boundaries is part of the work.
Because when you do? You don’t just build better relationships—you build better results.
Reflect: What part of your pricing still comes from people-pleasing?
Where are you still undercharging to be liked?
Where are you still afraid your bigness, your weirdness, your emotional depth will scare them off?
And what if scaring off the wrong ones is exactly how you make space for the ones who will pay—fully, respectfully, and joyfully?
Tell me—what would shift if you priced like your emotional labor mattered?
