Why I’m giving up my monthly clients

If you’d told me a year ago that I’d voluntarily step away from every one of my regular monthly retainer clients, I genuinely wouldn’t have believed you.

Like many consultants, I’d spent years working towards exactly that goal. Regular monthly income, long-term relationships with businesses I cared about, a diary that was consistently full and a reputation that had taken years to build.

From the outside, it looked like I’d finally created the business I’d always wanted.

The reality, however, was very different.

Over the past year, I’ve realised that it’s possible to build a successful business that no longer feels right for the person you’ve become.

Every month my calendar was full of meetings, deadlines, campaigns and client calls. I loved the businesses I worked with, but somewhere along the way I’d stopped leaving enough space to think, to learn, to create or simply to breathe.

My days had become about delivering work rather than exploring ideas, and for someone who is naturally curious, that slowly became exhausting.

This wasn’t caused by one bad client or one difficult project. In fact, I can honestly say the opposite. I’ve been incredibly fortunate to work with business owners who trusted me, valued my advice and became genuine friends.

That actually made the decision even harder, because there wasn’t an obvious reason to leave.

Nothing had gone wrong.

Instead, something had changed in me.

Losing my mum, and later my stepdad Mick, shifted my perspective in ways I wasn’t expecting. Grief has an uncomfortable habit of making you question the life you’re building.

It makes you wonder whether you’re spending enough time with the people you love, whether you’re enjoying the work you’re doing and whether the version of success you’ve been chasing is actually your own, or simply the one you thought you were supposed to want.

For years, I’d measured success by a growing client list, increasing turnover and a diary that was booked weeks in advance.

Gradually, though, I realised that my own definition of success had changed. I found myself craving something I’d rarely prioritised before: peace.

Not the kind that comes from taking a week off, but the deeper feeling of having enough time to think, read, research, create meaningful content and enjoy life outside of work without constantly feeling guilty that I should be answering another email.

Perhaps the biggest irony of all is that I spend my career helping businesses make better marketing decisions.

I encourage clients to pause, review where they are, question what’s working and have the confidence to change direction when something no longer serves them.

Eventually, I had to admit that I wasn’t following my own advice. I was so busy helping everyone else steer their businesses that I’d stopped checking whether I was still driving mine in the direction I actually wanted to go.

Why the fractional model wasn’t what I thought it would be

Over the last 18 months, I’ve described myself and acted as a fractional Head of Marketing, and in many ways it suited me perfectly.

I loved becoming part of a client’s business, getting to know their team, understanding their customers and helping them make better marketing decisions over the long term. It was rewarding to see businesses grow and to know I’d played a genuine part in that journey.

However, the reality of delivering that service wasn’t quite what I’d imagined.

When you’re someone’s outsourced Head of Marketing, you’re never really “off”.

Even when there isn’t a meeting in the diary, you’re thinking about their next campaign, the email you still need to send, the issue that cropped up yesterday or the idea you had whilst walking the dog.

You’re carrying several businesses around in your head at the same time, constantly switching between industries, priorities and personalities.

The challenge wasn’t that my clients expected me to work around the clock; they were brilliant. It was that I cared deeply about doing a good job, and with several retained clients at once, I found myself permanently connected to work.

There was always another message to answer, another website to tweak, another strategy to review or another deadline just around the corner.

One of the biggest realities of being self-employed is that, unless you’ve built a business that can operate without you, time away comes at a cost.

Holidays require weeks of preparation beforehand and often a mountain of work when you return. If you’re unwell, the work simply waits for you. There isn’t a colleague who quietly picks things up while you recover.

The responsibility doesn’t disappear just because you’re taking a break.

I reached a point where I realised I’d built a business that relied entirely on me always being available, always thinking and always delivering. Whilst I was incredibly grateful for the work, it wasn’t the kind of business I wanted to be running for the next twenty years.

Why running a traditional marketing agency also sucked balls

Before this, I was the owner of Nurture Marketing, a small marketing agency based in Norwich.

After freelancing from my shed for a few months, I looked at building a traditional agency model because, on paper, it seemed like the obvious next step.

The idea was simple. Charge a monthly retainer, create content, manage social media, build websites, oversee campaigns and gradually grow a small team to deliver more of the day-to-day work.

It’s a model that works brilliantly for many agencies, and for a while I genuinely thought it was the direction I should be taking.

The problem was that the more I built it, the more I realised it simply wasn’t playing to my strengths.

What energises me isn’t managing content calendars, approving graphics or overseeing day-to-day delivery. Whilst those things are important, they weren’t the work that made me excited to get out of bed each morning.

I found myself spending more time managing projects and people than actually thinking about marketing, asking bigger questions or solving the strategic problems that had attracted me to this profession in the first place.

I also became increasingly uncomfortable with the traditional retainer model. Clients would pay around £1,500 a month for ongoing marketing support, and whilst they received content, campaigns and regular activity, I kept asking myself a difficult question:

Was this genuinely moving their business forward?

Sometimes the answer was yes. But sometimes, if I was being completely honest with myself, we were producing marketing because marketing was expected, rather than because it was the biggest priority for the business at that moment.

That didn’t sit comfortably with me.

I’ve never wanted to be the person who simply keeps a content machine running. I want to help business owners make better decisions.

Sometimes that decision is to invest more in marketing. Sometimes it’s to pause, refine their offer, improve their customer experience or focus on something completely different before posting another video or writing another blog post.

Managing a growing team wasn’t a natural fit for me either. I have huge respect for agency owners who build brilliant cultures and lead large teams, but I realised that my strengths lie in curiosity, research, teaching and problem-solving rather than people management.

I don’t want my days to be filled with recruitment, performance reviews, resource planning and internal meetings. Those responsibilities are incredibly important, but they aren’t where I do my best work.

The more honest I became with myself, the clearer everything else became.

I’m not trying to build the biggest marketing agency in Norfolk.

I’m trying to become one of the UK’s most trusted voices on helping owner-managed and micro businesses make smarter marketing decisions.

Those are two very different ambitions, and once I recognised that, my path suddenly became much clearer.

So, what’s next?

Far from stepping away from marketing, I feel like I’m stepping towards the part of marketing that excites me most.

This autumn I’ll be starting my Master’s in Marketing and Management at the University of East Anglia, something I’ve wanted to do for years.

Going back into higher education feels like opening a new chapter, not because I need another qualification, but because I have so many questions I want to explore.

I’m fascinated by how owner-managed and micro businesses make marketing decisions, why good strategies often fail despite everyone’s best intentions, and how we can bridge the gap between academic research and the messy reality of running a small business.

Alongside my studies, I’ll be dedicating much more time to creating content. That means regular YouTube videos, writing more in-depth articles like this one, speaking at events, delivering workshops and continuing to develop The Marketing Shift - the philosophy and framework I’ve been building to help business owners make smarter, more confident marketing decisions.

I’m also looking forward to having the time and headspace to read more, think more deeply, test ideas and have conversations that go beyond the latest social media trend or algorithm update.

The work I produce may reach fewer people in a single day than a busy client diary once did, but I hope it will have a far greater impact over the years to come.

For the first time in a long time, I don’t feel like I’m walking away from something. I feel like I’m running towards something that genuinely excites me, and I can’t wait to see where it leads.