Remember That Time I Charged $2.50 for Like Forty Hours of Automation Work?
And then I literally couldn't pay my bills? Yeah, that was a fun month. (Spoiler: it wasn't.)
For years, I had this nasty little gremlin living in my brain. You know the one - it sounds suspiciously like your third-grade teacher mixed with that one judgey aunt. "You're being GREEDY!" it would hiss. "Someone else will do it cheaper!" "Who do you think you ARE?"
Well, I finally told that gremlin to shut up and take several seats.
Here's what hit me like a ton of bricks one Tuesday afternoon (I was eating leftover pizza and contemplating my life choices, as one does): Charging what I'm worth isn't about being grabby or selfish or whatever other guilt-trip word my brain wants to throw at me.
It's about being HONEST.
Like, actually honest! With myself! With you! With the universe!
When someone asks me to build them an AI strategy - whether it's my neighbor who wants to automate her dog-walking business or a big fancy company that doesn't want their chatbot to sound like a confused robot from 1987 - I'm not just showing up with a laptop and a prayer.
I'm bringing YEARS of mistakes (so many mistakes, you guys). I'm bringing the time I accidentally made a bot that only responded in haikus. I'm bringing every late night I spent figuring out why the automation kept sending birthday emails to everyone at 3 AM. I'm bringing actual, real, hard-won expertise.
And here's the kicker - when I charge properly, magic happens. I show up better. I care more. I don't resent you or myself or the work. I can actually afford groceries AND Netflix! Revolutionary!
Plus - and this is the part that makes me want to shake past-me by the shoulders - when you charge what you're worth, you attract people who VALUE what you do. People who get it. People who don't haggle over every penny while expecting miracles.
Charging my worth isn't bragging. It's not being "too big for my britches" (thanks, imaginary judgey aunt). It's literally just... math? Like, this is what it costs for me to do excellent work and also eat food and live indoors.
You know what IS greedy? Expecting people to work for peanuts. Thinking expertise should come free. Acting like someone's years of experience are worth less than your morning latte.
So yeah, I charge real money now. And my work is better for it. My clients are happier. I'm happier. My creditors is DEFINITELY happier.
The Moral of This Rambling Story?
Stop apologizing for knowing your worth. Stop letting that weird guilt gremlin run your pricing strategy. You're not charging for your time - you're charging for all the times you messed up and learned something. For all the problems you can solve in your sleep now. For actually giving a damn about doing good work.
That's not greed, friends. That's just good sense.
Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go invoice someone a completely reasonable amount of money and NOT feel weird about it. Growth! She's happening!
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