Protecting My Energy

Read time: 4 minutes

Welcome to The Ascend Archives, a weekly newsletter where I share a story about a transformation, revelation, or change in thinking that has improved an aspect of my life.

Quick Note Before Today’s Story:
I’ve been working behind the scenes on the launch of my friend Nathan’s new course, Storytelling: Zero to One. It’s been a blast working with Nathan, especially on a topic I love.

I’ve never promoted anything in this newsletter before, but I’ve gone through the content myself and it’s genuinely improved my storytelling. If that’s something you’re working on or want to become a better storyteller, I think you’ll get a lot out of it.

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Let me know what you think if you end up jumping in!

It was my first inbound lead.

I’d just rebranded my LinkedIn—cleaned up the bio, clarified my niche, and tightened the positioning: fractional operator for creators and founders. I was pumped to see where this would take me and then, out of nowhere, that message landed in my inbox.

No cold outreach. No awkward pitch. Just someone who seemed to know what he needed and believed I could help.

We jumped on a call later that week. The vibe was great. Mutual connections, aligned values, and real growth goals. He was doing $200K/month, aiming for $1M/month by year’s end. A fast-growing product, a team that needed structure, and a founder who saw the value of operations.

I left that call thinking: This could be something.

The next day, I sent him a two-page doc outlining how I could help, along with a 7-minute Loom walking through my ideas. His response?

“Looks great. Let’s put together a scope. I can see you working with us.”

We scheduled a follow-up. What was supposed to be a 30-minute scope conversation turned into a two-hour deep dive. I asked a hundred questions. He gave me a tour of the whole business. I walked away stoked—this wasn’t just a one off project. It felt like a rocket ship with no operator.

I spent a few more hours refining the proposal—clear deliverables, pricing, timing. Then hit send.

And then… silence.

Three days passed. Nothing.

I followed up.
He replied—traveling, would get back to me soon.
Another week passed.
Then two.

He sent a voice note from a conference:
“Everything looks good. I’ll send detailed feedback tonight.”

But that feedback didn’t come.

At first, I brushed it off. He’s busy. I have other projects I’m focused on. He’ll circle back.
But over time, something started to shift. Not quite frustration—more like fatigue.

Not because of the hours I’d put in. I’d maybe spent five hours total between calls, proposals, and follow-ups.

But mentally? I’d spent far more.

Checking WhatsApp. Wondering what I might’ve missed. Forecasting how this deal could hit my revenue target. Thinking, if this lands, this will feel really good.

It wasn’t the deal that felt heavy.
It was how much of my energy I’d invested in something that wasn’t real yet.

I was out on a walk when I finally sent the voice note:

“Assuming you went another direction with the operations work. No worries—just reach out down the line if you need my help.”

And I exhaled. That was my moment.

The second I hit send, I felt light. Clear. Proud of how I’d shown up—honest, proactive, direct.

But when he messaged back the next day—apologetic, complimentary, re-engaged—I’ll admit: the hope crept back in.

Maybe this is the moment it finally clicks, I thought.
I started replying again. Updating the scope. Offering ideas.

Sliding back into that old pattern of wanting the yes too much.

Until this week.

We had a call scheduled to finalize everything, but he wasn’t ready and wanted to reschedule for later in the day.

So I said:

“Review my proposal. Send me a Loom or a voice memo walking through your feedback. Please be specific with what is missing from the deliverables. That way we don’t waste time brainstorming on a call and we can get aligned to move forward.”

He agreed.

And I appreciated that.

I told him directly: I hadn’t received enough input to tailor this properly.

I work efficiently, and this process hadn’t felt that way yet. If we were going to do this, I wanted it to start on the right foot.

And in that moment, I realized something important.

Sales isn’t about saying the right things or telling people what they want to hear.
It’s about showing up with clarity—about who I am, the value I bring, and how I work best.

For me, that means helping clients think strategically, make decisions faster, and get things done. That’s how I operate during a project—so it only makes sense to show up the same way during the sales process.

This deal might still happen.
It might not.
But either way, I’m no longer letting it dictate how I feel.

That’s the shift.

When I first drafted this story, I thought the lesson was “I should walk away from unclear clients.” But now I see it differently.

It’s not about the client.

It’s about staying focused on what I can control: doing the work, protecting my energy, and letting the outcome take care of itself.

I will keep having conversations. Sending proposals. Following up with people who show interest. But I won’t hand over my peace of mind in the process.

If this client wants to work together, great.
He knows where to find me.
And now, he knows how I show up.

The real question is: Now that I have this awareness… can I keep acting on it?

Thank you for reading! As always please reply and let me know what resonated, what didn’t, or what you question. I love chatting about this stuff!

Cheers,

Andrew