Your Clients Aren't Your Parents (But Your Nervous System Doesn't Know That)

All through my life, the same thing would flare up.

In school, handing in a late assignment.

In corporate, sitting across from a supervisor.

In freelancing, when a client asked for more than I felt I could give.

The sensation was always the same: my stomach knotted, my face drained, my hands went clammy. And worst of all—the link between my brain and my mouth just vanished.

My brain had things to say, but my nervous system had already pulled the plug.

It took years for my to realize my body didn't know the difference between being a grown man running a business and being a kid cornered by authority. The moment those dynamics showed up, it reached for the only script it knew—shut down, disappear, survive.

Your nervous system doesn't have a calendar. It doesn't know you're an adult running a business. When certain dynamics show up, it pattern-matches to the earliest version it knows. And suddenly you're not a professional having a business conversation—you're a kid trying to earn approval, avoid punishment, or prove you're enough.

Every time you send an invoice, you might be twelve years old asking for your allowance. Every client who questions your work becomes the authority figure you could never please. This is why business feels so personal—and why that brain-mouth disconnect happens at the worst possible moments.

The Dynamics We Recreate

The Never-Quite-Pleased Parent → The Impossible-to-Satisfy Client

You know this client. No matter how much extra work you throw in, how many revisions you do, how perfectly you deliver—there's always something. And instead of setting boundaries, you work harder. You over-deliver. You add more. You're still trying to get that A+ that will finally be enough.

The Withholding Parent → The Late-Paying Client

They have the money… or maybe they don’t. But instead of following up firmly, you wait. You make excuses for them. You feel guilty for wanting what you're owed. Because asking for money feels like asking for love—and you learned early that both could be withheld as punishment.

The Critical Authority → The Client Who Questions Everything

Every suggestion feels like criticism. Every question feels like doubt in your competence. You defend, over-explain, justify every decision. You send novels where a sentence would do. Because somewhere inside, you're still defending your worth to someone who made you feel small.

The Emotional Caretaker Role → The Client You're Rescuing

They're struggling. They "can't afford" your full rate. They need this to work. And suddenly you're discounting, working weekends, carrying their emotional weight. You're the responsible oldest child again, taking care of everyone else at your own expense.

Why We Choose These Clients

Here's the thing that will bake your noodle: you're not randomly ending up with difficult clients. Your nervous system is seeking what it knows.

Out of ten potential clients, you'll unconsciously be drawn to the one who recreates familiar dynamics. They'll feel "right" in a way you can't explain. The easy client who pays on time and respects boundaries? They might even make you uncomfortable. Too easy. Too unfamiliar.

Your nervous system goes: "I don't know this dance. Give me the difficult one—at least I know those steps."

The Body Keeps the Score (In Your Business)

Notice what happens in your body with certain clients:

• Voice gets smaller or higher

• Chest tightens

• You start over-explaining

• Shoulders creep toward your ears

• You suddenly can't access your expertise

• Time moves differently (calls feel endless or fly by in anxiety)

• You check email obsessively or avoid it entirely

These aren't business responses. They're childhood responses. Your body is responding to a ghost.

How to Break the Pattern

1. Name the Ghost

When a client triggers you, ask: "Who does this person remind me of?" Not literally—energetically. Is this your critical father? Your withholding mother? Your unpredictable sibling? Name it. Sometimes just seeing the pattern breaks its power.

2. Separate Then from Now

Create a physical anchor for the present. I keep a photo of my current self at my desk—grown, capable, running a business. When I feel young, I look at it. "That was then. This is now. I'm an adult. This is a business transaction."

3. Reframe the Dynamic

• You're not asking for allowance. You're collecting payment for completed work.

• You're not seeking approval. You're providing a service.

• You're not being punished. You're navigating a business negotiation.

• You're not responsible for their emotions. You're responsible for your deliverables.

4. Adult-to-Adult Energy

Before client calls, spend two minutes embodying your adult self. Stand tall. Speak in your full voice. Remind yourself: "We are two adults exchanging value. I have expertise they need. They have money to exchange for it. That's all this is."

5. Practice Disappointing People

Start small. Say no to a small request. Deliver exactly what was agreed, nothing more. Let someone be mildly inconvenienced. Notice: they survived. You survived. The world didn't end. Your worth didn't disappear.

6. Choose Different Clients

Once you see the pattern, you can start choosing against it. That client who triggers every authority wound? Don't take them on. The one who respects boundaries and pays promptly? That's your people—even if it feels weird at first.

The Reparenting Happens in Business

Here's what nobody tells you: business is where we reparent ourselves. Every boundary you hold that you couldn't as a child, every payment you receive that you're worthy of, every client you release who doesn't respect you—it's all reparenting.

You're teaching your nervous system: "It's different now. I have power now. I can say no now. I can ask for what I need now. I can disappoint people and still be valuable."

When You're Still Triggered

Some days, despite all the work, a client will hit that old nerve. You'll feel twelve again. That's okay. The difference is now you know what's happening. You can say to yourself:

"This feeling is old. This client is not my parent. This is business, not survival. I am safe. I have choices. I can respond from my adult self when I'm ready."

Then take a break. Walk around. Breathe. Come back when you can access your grown-up self again.

The Path Forward

Your clients aren't your parents, your teachers, or your childhood critics. They're just people who need a service you provide. The charge you feel around certain clients isn't about them—it's about old patterns asking to be healed.

Every time you hold a boundary, quote your price without apologizing, or decline a project that feels familiar in all the wrong ways, you're rewriting the pattern. You're telling your nervous system: "We don't have to dance that dance anymore."

The beautiful thing? Once you stop casting clients as authority figures, you can meet them as equals. Once you stop needing their approval, you can focus on delivering value. Once you stop recreating old dynamics, you can build new ones based on mutual respect and clear exchange.

Your business becomes a place of healing instead of repetition. And that changes everything.