Hi everyone,

Second issue of Your Money, Your AI. And 200+ of you subscribed in the last week, which is more than I expected - yet, exactly the kind of maths I like!

Thank you for the trust. And remember this word. We start here today and we end there too.

Now, to the topic.

One of the things I do is run a consultancy for startup founders.

Back in June, my team worked with a client - a founder - on their B2B sales strategy. It went well. Everyone was pleased.

But the payment date in the contract passed weeks ago. My assistant has reminded them to pay, multiple times. I asked about the payment, multiple times.

Nothing.

And here is the part I want to talk to you about.

They broke the agreement. They are ignoring the obligation. The money is mine.

Yet, I am the one who feels awkward.

The absurd part is…

…I do this for a living!

I have conducted hundreds of negotiations, sometimes with very hostile people, I have opinions about term sheets, liquidation preferences, and Elon Musk’s mental state. I hired, I fired, I have said no to people I liked. You name it.

And I could not write the fifth email asking for money that is already mine.

Instead, I kept finding reasons: objectively, the market is hard now. It’s summer, things are slow. Surely it lands next week, they promised us. Finally - I don't want to be that person.

And that last one really hit hard.

What I was actually protecting

Not the relationship or the founder's feelings. But an image of myself that I wanted to see.

The generous, relaxed, easy to work with investor who is above all this. The one who is obviously not in it for the money. Not a difficult woman in business.

Keeping that perfect picture intact was, apparently, worth more to me than that invoice being paid.

What finally unlocked it for me

It took me embarrassingly long to see how much time I spent hunting for the perfect wording.

How do I say it without sounding pushy? How do I ask firmly but not aggressively? How do I chase without looking like I'm chasing?

I rewrote that message in my head about nine times.

But the problem was never the message.

It's not that I didn't know WHAT to say. It's that I was afraid of WHO I'd be after I said it.

Greedy. Petty. Needy. Difficult. A woman who is asking for too much. Terrifying, right? :)

To be clear

This is not about becoming difficult.

It's about noticing that somewhere along the way, a very normal behaviour got marked as off-limits. And just taking it back.

I can be generous and hold someone to a contract. I can be a good person to work with and write, for the fifth time: the payment was due three weeks ago, please confirm the exact date. I can think money isn't the most important thing in life and count the money my team is owed very carefully.

None of those cancel each other out. Let’s remember that.

Two questions to help untangle this

If next time you catch yourself redrafting a message about money for the ninth time - like myself - I encourage you to spend your time reflecting:

1. What kind of person am I afraid of looking like right now?

Greedy? Unpleasant? Needy? Someone who asks for too much? Bitchy?

2. What am I losing while I work this hard at not being perceived as that person?

My money. My time. My boundaries. My good mood. My self-respect and respect of my team. The ability to have a normal, adult conversation with another adult. Truth. Trust.

Because sometimes the price of a nice girl image is just: the invoice.

Trust in yourself. Send it.

​Are we connected on LinkedIn yet?​
That's where I write more about business, negotiations, AI and startups. Gender neutral.

And share this article if you feel you know your sister, a friend or a colleague​ needs to read it. I’ll keep writing!