Creative Highlight - Photo by Spencer Plouzek
There's a moment I still remember clearly: the first time a creative told me that a client of my agency belonged to them.
It came in an email. A long, emotional one. They were leaving the agency, and they were frustrated about losing the chance to keep working with a client I had introduced them to. Their work had earned them the relationship, whether I represented them or not, and they felt that client was theirs now.
It didn't matter that the agency had made the introduction. It didn't matter that we had been working with that client for years before the introduction was made.
I recognized the feeling right away, the same way I've recognized it in some of the most personal moments of my life. Sometimes it isn't worth the fight. Sometimes trying to explain that your livelihood depends on those projects only adds more hurt to something that's already painful for everyone.
So instead of fighting, I want to explain it here.
The Cafeteria Table
Over the years, I've shared the same analogy with creatives again and again: getting in with a client is like waiting for a seat to open up at the cafeteria table.
There are only so many seats. When an agent introduces a creative to a client, that's a seat being filled. And once someone is sitting there, that seat may not open to anyone else for a long time.
When a creative leaves an agency, or an agency parts ways with a creative, that seat usually stays with the creative. The agent who pulled out the chair, who spent years building the relationship, earning trust and making the introduction, loses the income that came from that connection. Often, there's nothing to be done about it because the creative has no obligation to continue to have the agency receive it’s commission.
Sometimes, the client is open to bringing in someone new. That happens when they respect and value the relationship and understand that this is how the agency sustains itself. Those clients are gold. But they're not the rule.
Why This Matters
I don't share this to point fingers. I understand the creative's side completely. I came from acting, design and production before I became an agent. I know what it feels like to pour yourself into a project and feel like you've earned your place. You have earned it. The work is yours.
But the relationship that made the work possible was built by someone else first. Agents spend years cultivating trust with clients, often long before any creative is booked. An introduction from an agent isn't a favor. It's the product of years of showing up, following through and protecting the reputations of everyone involved.
When creatives understand that, the conversation changes. It stops being about who "owns" a client and becomes about respect for the people who opened the door.
There Was Another Way
What stays with me most is that it didn't have to end this way.
There were no real issues between us. No broken trust, no conflict on set, no unhappy client. This creative could have simply chosen to keep building that relationship through me, as a thank you for the introduction.
And the introduction was significant. This was a Bay Area client. The creative was based in LA, traveling up to work these jobs. That door didn't open because of proximity or a chance encounter. It opened because I had spent years building trust with that client in my own backyard, and I chose to bring someone from outside the market into it.
Continuing to work together would have honored that. It would have kept the relationship growing for everyone: the client keeps a creative they love, the creative keeps a steady opportunity, and the agency that made it all possible stays part of the story.
Leaving an agency doesn't have to mean taking everything with you. Sometimes the most respectful thing you can do is say, "You brought me here. Let's keep doing this together."
What I'd Tell Any Creative Now
If you're working with an agent, or anyone who connects you to opportunities, talk openly about what happens to those relationships if you part ways. Put it in writing. Have the conversation when things are good, not when emotions are high.
And if you ever find yourself sitting in a seat someone else pulled out for you, remember who did the pulling. Gratitude travels farther in this industry than almost anything else.
The lesson in understanding the table, the seats, and who helps fill them has always stayed with me. There is always someone who helped support us in finding our way.
