We’ve all had to deal with people we find challenging — the abrupt, the demanding, the unpredictable.
But what if some of that difficulty doesn’t come from them… but from the mental picture we’ve already painted of them?
That’s what Alison a coaching client (not her real name) discovered.
Alison, a newly promoted marketing manager at a pharmaceutical company, came to coaching as part of her personal development programme. But in our first session, one thing was clearly weighing on her: a difficult customer.
From day one, her colleagues had warned her about this particular client — aggressive, demanding, “hard work.” Bracing herself but up for the challenge, Alison approached every meeting like she would be able to successfully manage her customer. She over-prepared, armed herself with data, and stuck to tight agendas in an effort to stay in control.
Despite her best efforts, the customer remained distant, unengaged and even harsh. And after a few weeks, Alison came to coaching feeling depleted and insecure.
“What am I doing wrong?” she asked. “Why doesn’t my client like me?”
The story behind the story
As we explored what was going on, I gently pointed Alison to the story she was carrying in her head — a story that had started before she even met the client. Based on what others had said, her mind had begun to fill in the blanks:
“The client’s difficult.” “The client’s rude.” “This is going to be hard work.”
And as we talked, Alison could see how her brain — like all of ours — had done something it’s incredibly good at: it had created. Not just a summary, but a vivid picture. Her imagination had drawn in the lines, coloured in the background, even added emotional tone to every interaction.
“I feel like I’ve been fighting a version of the client that mostly exists in my own head,” she said.
"Exactly." I said "That’s what our minds do — they take a sliver of data and turn it into a full-blown narrative. One that feels real and creates real emotions: tension, defensiveness, self-doubt."
What Alison came to see is that while the client might be moody or abrupt at times, that didn’t have to mean anything more. She didn’t need to over analyse their mood or make it personal. She could just notice it — and let it be.
That insight alone started to shift her experience. She stopped trying to manage every moment and began showing up with less assumptions in her head. From there, her presence changed. And so did the dynamic.
A reset that changed everything
With this fresh perspective, Alison saw how much effort she’d been spending anticipating, bracing for, and managing the client’s behaviour — and how little of it was actually useful.
There was a moment in our conversation when this really landed. She paused, sat back, and said:
“I’ve been working so hard to be ready for this client. But maybe I don’t have to work this hard.”
That was the turning point.
Not only had she been trying to manage the relationship — she’d also been trying to manage a story in her head about what it meant for her when things didn’t go well. And that pressure had been quietly draining her.
But when she saw that the client’s behaviour wasn’t personal — and that she didn’t need to fix or control every interaction — something softened. She relaxed. Her thinking cleared. And with that clarity, came presence, confidence, and ease.
Instead of defending herself in meetings, Alison started responding in the moment. Instead of replaying conversations in her head, she let them go.
That freed up a huge amount of energy — not just for her work, but for herself.
This wasn’t a new tactic. It was a genuine inner shift. And that made all the difference.
What happens when you drop the label?
Let’s be honest — this won’t magically make difficult people disappear. But it can absolutely change your experience of them.
When you stop feeding the story and show up with curious presence instead, you create the conditions for something better to emerge.
And even if it doesn’t? You leave the room knowing you didn’t get pulled into the drama. You showed up as your best self.
So next time you find yourself bracing for someone “difficult,” ask:
What story am I bringing into the room — and what might happen if I let it go?
Aroha, Judith
