In a friend’s newsletter, I read that she left a comfortable consulting job to start her own company because she wanted to earn more money. Not because she wanted to move to Bali and live in a van (nothing against that plan, by the way). It’s still pretty rare for a woman entrepreneur to say out loud that she’s doing it for economic reasons. Men say it more often — I don’t have stats, I’m drawing on nearly ten years of listening to and reading founders’ stories. I’m certainly biased, but you get the idea.

In my view, the decision to launch a business to earn more money comes from understanding that when we’re employees, we’re building someone else’s dream. Working for yourself means working for your own dream. I think Gen Z has understood very clearly that when they work for a company, they’re a means to an end — and they’re not afraid to assert the value they create. Let’s not throw stones at people who know what they’re worth; that would be foolish — and I’m choosing my words carefully.

So… how do you do that when you’re working for your own dream?

Espiègle is turning five in almost exactly five months. When I left my last corporate job, I did not say to myself, “I’m going to earn more money.” I’m not going to make up a story. I was at the end of my rope, and I quit. My philosophical reasoning at the time boiled down to: “If I can put myself in that state for people who barely value me, imagine what I could do for myself.” Worst case, I’d go back to pulling pints in a bar (which I did in the second half of 2022 — and it did me a world of good; another story for another time).

Along the way, I learned how to set my prices. I’ve worked with flat fees, day rates, hourly rates, fully packaged offers from A to Z… in short, I’ve sold my expertise in a lot of different ways. I’ve often heard, “That’s too expensive,” “You don’t spend that much time on it,” “You get paid for that?” People made me doubt my value by doubting the value of what I produce. They tied the quality of my work and my expertise to the time spent executing a mission.

I keep asking myself the same question because the skills and capacities I develop over time improve and multiply. I could talk for ages about everything I’ve learned in nearly five years on my own — but that’s not the point today. If I tell you that now I perform the same missions faster in some cases, and at higher quality, you’ll probably think: that’s good for me and for the business — I’ll save time, generate more value in less time, and potentially grow. True… but there’s a catch.

I was reading Sahil Bloom’s newsletter — which I really enjoy — where he breaks down the locksmith paradox. It struck me as essential at a time when we’re being bludgeoned with “your time is your most valuable asset,” while satirical TikToks about Gen Z at work are everywhere. And yes, it might seem unthinkable to my dad’s generation (he’s months from retirement after 40 years in the same company, climbing the famous corporate ladder) to switch off the work phone on holiday, to stop saying amen to every absurd request from a new manager, to refuse a late night at the office because you have a personal commitment — or to quit a job that no longer makes sense. But I think what’s changing is our perception of the value we create for the companies we work for.

The paradox that gets expensive

Back to our paradox. The story is simple: a locksmith charges €100 for service X and delivers it in one hour. The client is happy — all good. A year later, the same client needs service X again. The price hasn’t changed, but the locksmith has upskilled and now completes the job in 30 minutes. The client is not happy; they don’t understand that they’re paying for service X, not just the locksmith’s time, and they balk at paying the same amount for half the time.

There’s a similar story about Picasso you can look up — go sharpen your curiosity. What’s interesting is how quickly people equate the value of a service with the time the provider spent… when in reality, what’s being sold is know-how and expertise — which represent hours, even years, of work that made that quality possible.

That mindset is exactly what feeds toxic presenteeism in companies — employees won’t dare leave early for fear of being called lazy, when in reality they might just be more efficient that day.

Why I bill both hourly and by project

These days I switch between hourly/day rates and flat project fees depending on the mission — to avoid shooting myself in the foot and to price my expertise fairly.

I still encounter clients who don’t understand the rates and find me “too expensive.” I no longer waste hours justifying my value. I worked hard to acquire my skills (and I keep studying and training), I know what my work is worth — and if someone doesn’t perceive that value, honestly, that’s their problem.

There’s a market for every price range — just like in beauty or fashion. I’ve chosen my positioning, and I no longer make the mistake of squeezing into the budget of clients who clearly aren’t ready to invest at the price points I offer. I’m (almost) no longer afraid to say no to contracts, and I keep redirecting people who aren’t a fit to colleagues who might be.

I hope this article helps you sit more comfortably in your convictions — and assert a pricing structure that truly reflects your value.