Why I Don’t Call Patrons ‘Clients’ Anymore

When I was a kid, maybe 12, my parents took me on a trip to Kenya and Tanzania — one of those childhood experiences that leaves a mark so deep, it echoes for years. Long hours on bumpy roads with a child can be a challenge, so my uncle came up with a game to keep me curious. He’d throw out a word — one he figured I didn’t know — and I’d have to guess what it meant.

One of those words was mecenas.

It’s Spanish for "patron of the arts." And when I understood it, I lit up. I told my uncle, without hesitation: That’s what I want to be when I grow up. A mecenas.

It’s funny how certain things stick. That word never left me.

Neither did the word symbiosis — the ways in which living beings support one another. Like clownfish and anemones. Maybe you remember the lesson from school, too: the clownfish finds protection within the anemone’s stinging tentacles, while the anemone benefits from the clownfish’s movement and scraps. They thrive because they trust each other.

I think about that a lot.

Because what I do now isn’t a job, not exactly.

It’s a lifestyle. An art form. A way of being.

I’m the anemone sometimes — providing safety, space to be oneself, a soft container where one can feel heard, understood, even loved (in the Agape sense, not the Hollywood one). A protector. A sanctuary.

But I’m also the clownfish. A performer. A multi-disciplinary artist. A bit of a wild thing. I express what others might find difficult to say. I let emotion move through me. I play. I create. I seduce and sing and stumble — and it’s all part of the art.

This is why I no longer call those who walk this path with me "clients."

With a client, the dynamic is: quien paga, manda. The one who pays, calls the shots.

But with a patron, we co-create. A patron sees the artist, the muse, and says — I believe in your project. I want to pour abundance into your life so you can create more freely. So you can heal, and through your art, maybe others can too.

This dynamic is sacred. It’s intimate. It’s not transactional, it’s relational.

A subtle shift in language changes everything. And the ripple effect — well, that’s where the magic is.

So let’s play in the waves. I’ll be your clownfish, you my anemone — protective, embracing, and safe. Then let’s reverse. Let me offer you a soft place to land. A wild place to rise. A haven where you can be frisky, or ugly, or soft, or powerful. Whatever you need to be. Without judgment.

We’re not just exchanging time. We’re building a little ecosystem of mutual care.

That’s why I don’t call you a client. That’s why you’re my beloved patron.