I Signed My First Client. And Then I Fired Him.

This week, I signed my first client. That felt good.
What felt great was what happened in our first session where we agreed to part way and I gave him a full refund.

I found him unhappy, pissed and feeling like he was trapped in a marriage that was eating him alive. I could see the weight and stress in his body language when I ran into him recently (he's an old friend from law school who got smart and went into teaching). That blah-ness about everything in life except his kids and hobbies. And a bit too much excitement for another drink. It's the familiar pain of someone who’s been lying to themselves for too long.

Old me? I would have sniffed the money and gone straight into divorce lawyer sales mode.

“Here’s what we’ll file, here’s what it’ll cost, here’s how we win.”

Because back when I practiced family law full-time, that was the game. I’d tell people whether they should stay or go based on how much they could pay. The strategy wasn’t emotional, it was purely financial. If you were a walking retainer, I'd give you every reason to run.

But that’s not who I am anymore. That’s not what this thing or my philosophy are about.

Now, I get to really help people.  Not just bill. But guide. We aim now toward the truth, toward peace, toward a version of life where they can finally breathe again.

It turns out, that’s not just more fulfilling; it’s also way more lucrative. People can feel when you care more about their happiness than your invoice. And men, especially men, are starving for that kind of guidance.

So my buddy/client tells me in so many words: “I’m scared to leave, scared to date again. What if I catch something?”

His imagination was torturing him. Using the fear of an STI to keep him miserable. That’s what fear does; it makes you suffer future pain to avoid present change.

So I told him a story. My story.

When my wife and I started dating, she told me she had the decent herpes, the face kind, not the crotch kind. And I didn’t even blink. I didn't know for sure, but I thought I probably had it too. But more importantly, I didn't care because I knew she was the one. I knew it when I met her. And no matter what she had, it wouldn’t matter. We were going to build something real. And we did.

Then I asked him:

“Would you rather be stuck in this marriage for another week or month, scared of a hypothetical? Or would you rather have the day I'm about to have, walking into Comerica Park, about to watch the Tigers play the hated Yankees on a Tuesday afternoon with a ticket my wife gave me? I'm grateful I have a loving marriage with a wife who expects and accepts my truth without conditions. I know you can't say that.  Are you willing to be honest with yourself today? Are you going to admit the truth of your situation? Are you going to do something about it or wallow in the cesspool of fake fear with all the other losers?”

Those combination of words hit him pretty hard. He agreed to file and we spent the rest of the time getting him an attorney who will help him out with the money he paid me.

Fear lost its grip and I was proud to watch a man take a meaningful step forward. And then I fired him. One shot, one kill, I guess.

It's not at all ironic my first client lasted one session. That's how this is supposed to work. It’s the difference between pushing paper and leading people. It’s The Stoic Method.

Need a push. Come find me. Let's talk.