Today, I fired a $5,500 month client.
- 2 days ago
- 4 min read
Today I walked away from an organization I had served for four years.
It was a good chunk of my income. I had let go of other clients to show up fully for them. I built their communications from the ground up, rebranded the organization, redesigned the website, created a voice that was consistent and could sustain them as they grew.
It was a behind-the-scenes arrangement. Nothing flashy. Exactly the kind of work I love.
And I walked away, anyway.
What happened?
The organization made a change in management, and I spotted the inefficiencies almost immediately. I voiced my concerns. Not because I was looking for them, or I was invested in that way, but because I come from a world that trained me to do so. Since I was 19 years old, I've been I breaking down complex information in ways people couple understand simply.
When you do that for so long, you develop a special aptitude for communication and documentation. You're always looking for inefficiencies. You spot patterns. You learn to rrelly ead people on the fly in order to ensure they're grasping what you're sharing.
And although, it was obvious to me that this new entity was doing some real shady shit, upper management didn't know about my extra skill sets [and frankly they never cared to ask any questions] so any voiced concerns came across as complaints. They knew me as their communications person and deduced my contributions to only graphics, emails and websites. That's what I was brought in to do and that's what I did. I didn't broadcast everything I'm capable of. I was happy that way.
When I realized the person they intentionally placed in management was not qualified for the position, I started planning an exit. The person was very dishonest, not forthcoming, openly reduced themselves to seat warmer. And the funny thing is they knew they didn't deserve to be there based on skill. They just needed to collect a paycheck and survive the day. And they didn't care what anyone else contributed. That's a very specific character. That's not a partnership. That's a dangerous person to work with.
But here's what I've come to understand about that dynamic:
Someone like that is what they call a C-player. And when a C player is placed in an environment surrounded by B and A players, one of two things happens.
They either learn from the people around them and grow.
Or they feel threatened - and they sabotage. They make moves to protect themselves from being exposed. They don't want their cards pulled. They don't want a light shining on what they don't know.
I thought I was being disrespected and dismissed.
I wasn't.
I was being feared.
The lesson I've heard but never fully understood until now
I've listened to enough podcasts to have heard the saying a hundred times: C players will never hire A players.
I thought I understood it.
I didn't. Not really.
When someone in a position of authority feels threatened by your competence, they will not celebrate you. They will not expand your role. They will not ask you to bring more of what you have. They will find ways, subtle and not so subtle, to minimize your contribution, question your value, and make you feel like the problem.
You are not the problem.
What I want you to take from this
Some of you are in rooms right now that cannot hold you.
You are making yourself smaller so someone else can feel comfortable. You are watching your work get taken for granted by people who don't fully understand what it took to produce it. You are staying because it's the bulk of your income, because you've invested time, because leaving feels like losing.
I understand that. I stayed longer than I should have for all of those reasons.
But I want you to hear this clearly:
Know when a room no longer serves you. Step away to protect your peace. Not everything is meant to last forever, and walking away from what no longer fits is not failure.
It is discernment. It is self-respect in action.
Standards aren't just what you accept of yourself.
They're also what you accept from everyone you let into your circle.
The moment you accept low standards from others, you lower the bar for yourself.
Don't do it.
Build your own room.
Fill it with people who can actually hold your level.
That's what I'm doing.
If you're building something of your own and you're tired of shrinking yourself for rooms that can't hold you — you belong in DtBW. [Come join us →]

HOW I GOT HERE
I am the founder of Do the Boring Work, a community for women building VA businesses. With 15+ years in the VA industry and a background spanning investment banking, marketing, and communications, I help VAs skip the guesswork and build businesses that last. My hometown is in Brooklyn, New York and I know live on a cute little lake in NJ.


