Clients Matter

I stood in a meeting with a foundation when they mentioned a client's passing. They thought I already knew. I didn't.

The shock hit me like a physical force. We weren't halfway through our meeting, and I couldn't break down there. So I focused on my business partner's button-down shirt, counting each button methodically as I took deep breaths. One, two, three, four... Each number was a small anchor as I tried to maintain my composure.

After the meeting ended, one of the members took me aside. "Your response showed us you genuinely care," he said quietly. Only then did I let the tears come.

In the helping professions, we often talk about maintaining professional boundaries. We discuss the importance of separating ourselves enough to remain effective while being present for our clients. But those boundaries don't diminish the connections we form or the genuine care that develops over time.

Through experiences like this, I've learned that grief doesn't follow professional protocols. It arrives unexpectedly, in the middle of meetings or ordinary moments, and demands acknowledgment. The depth of our response isn't unprofessional—it's human.

Sometimes, in our most difficult moments, we find unexpected anchors—like the buttons on a shirt—that help us navigate our emotions. And sometimes, in those unguarded moments of genuine feeling, others see the depth of our commitment.

People matter. Clients matter. Each person who walks through our door carries a world of experiences, hopes, and struggles. They entrust us with parts of themselves that they may share with few others. Whether I've seen them once, multiple times, or for years, each interaction leaves an imprint. When they share their vulnerability, courage, and trust, it changes us both.

This work isn't just about services rendered. It's about honoring each person's humanity and creating spaces where people feel seen, heard, and valued. When we forget that each client matters, we lose the heart of what we do.