Today, I report the loss of a much-loved monkey.

We didn’t leave the hotel resort complex all week for fear of losing patience, sanity or possessions, but somehow, we’ve still managed to lose one of my child’s many cuddly monkeys during our family holiday abroad.

I feared the loss when I carried out the eighth ‘final’ sweep of the hotel room ready for check-out, but hoped and prayed that the lengthy-limbed plush would turn up in one of our already over-stuffed cases; cocooned in a heavily sun-creamed beach towel somewhere.

Sadly, not the case. Not in the case, rather.

Prior to this devastating discovery, we’d gone on holiday to escape everything from back home, and business was at the heart of the stress we needed to leave behind for a few days. Of course, I still thought about work whilst I was out there, and it came up in a many a discussion over late-night drinks on the balcony, as we kidded ourselves that our child was even attempting to sleep, but there was no way I was going to do any work whilst I was out there. That’s not a holiday, and lord knows that having a swimming pool-splashing, ice cream-bingeing, hotel mascot-chasing toddler in tow was work enough in itself.

It was always going to be the case, however, that I’d find myself reflecting on a couple of things surrounding the past, present and future of my work with agoodwriteup, and in some ways, they tie in with the missing monkey.

Before suffering the loss of Lily’s most precious of toys, I’d lost four clients in the previous 15 months. I panicked, worried and stressed about each of them, even though it was a tiny minority in what is thankfully a nice and healthy (and bloody lovely) client base.

I lost the two clients who disappeared and never paid me – or even acknowledged me – once the work was done. You call them ghosts, I call them arsewipes.

I lost the client who didn’t like it when I changed my Payment Terms. It needed to be done, and he was one of the reasons why, to be honest.

I lost the client who no longer wanted to be associated with me because of my ‘persona’ on LinkedIn. I know, “Only one, Jo??”

Losing a client for any reason is a natural part of business, but I think sometimes freelancers take it a bit more personally than bigger organisations, because it feels like we only have ourselves to blame. At the time, you go through the personal hit on your self-esteem, the financial uncertainty of your books, and the general ‘ugh’ of what it feels like when you find out you’re no longer wanted and/or valued.

Admittedly, a bit of reflection in the sunshine and a step back with a sangria in my hand showed me that those four losses were probably more of a gain for me in the long-run. The non-paying vanishing act clients ended up giving me an education in how to run my business more effectively and efficiently, so definitely a gain for agoodwriteup there. The client who didn’t like it when part of that education forced me to change my payment terms… well, seeing as none of my other clients had an issue and positively championed the move, I’m guessing that this guy was never going to be in it for the long-haul with me anyway. And the client who had the problem with how I put myself out there on LinkedIn? I’m still sad about that one, to be honest, but I fully respect his decision. My aim with my social media posts is for people to get to know me and my style prior to working with me, but I guess I never really thought about how it might impact those who were already working with me prior to me seemingly not giving a damn online. Not everyone is going to be enamoured with what I do and how I do it. Yep, that one does still feel like a loss, although I’m surprised he stuck with me as long as he did! Have you seen my posts?

There were many things I thought about on holiday, and of those that were related to agoodwriteup, my focus was to find positives in the negatives, and a gain for every loss, which I hope I’ve done. At the very least, any loss can only ever give me more free time to attract and work with fantastic new clients; many of whom are reading this now.

Does any of this make the loss of the monkey any easier to deal with?

Does it bollocks. I’m devastated, and god only knows how my infant is going to react when she realises that one of her many favourite toys is probably still in a hot climate supping baboona coladas somewhere, having no doubt taken a tumble from the third floor balcony of our room at some point during our stay. I don’t even want to think about what else we’ll realise has gone over that edge…

The monkey was a tenuous link for this post, I know.

I’ll put it down to grief.