Late to the party
An Adviser Asks…
Is an agony-aunt style column where all members of the Financial Services community are invited to write in to ask for advice on any relational or ‘soft skills’ questions, dilemmas, issues or conflicts playing out in their working lives.
Got a question for Emma? If you’d like to ask for some advice on a dilemma or issue at work, please submit your question anonymously below.
TLDR
A financial adviser writes in to An Adviser Asks after the terminal diagnosis of a long-standing client prompts some honest reflection. Despite working with the couple for over twenty years, he realises he’s never built much of a relationship with the client’s wife, Lucy—and now worries she may walk away after her husband’s death, taking their children with her.
In response, Emma recognises the familiarity of this situation amongst the financial professionals she speaks with, but suggests all is not lost. She introduces the idea of ‘rupture and repair’, and encourages ‘Late to the Party’ to brave a courageous conversation - one that requires humility, responsibility, and a willingness to listen without defensiveness.
Dear Emotional Finance,
I’ve been working with a couple - Dave and Lucy - for over twenty years. They’re now in their late sixties. A few years ago, at Dave’s suggestion, I also started advising their two adult children.
At a recent meeting, Dave shared that he’s been diagnosed with terminal cancer. Very tough news.
From a planning perspective, everything is in good shape. But after speaking with a few colleagues facing similar issues at the moment, and as selfish as this sounds, I’m worrying what this means for me.
I’ve never really built much of a relationship with Lucy. I’ve always found her a bit off hand if I’m completely honest. She always stays quite quiet during meetings while Dave does the talking. But really, once they are home, I know she’s the one who wears the trousers.
To be blunt, I’m concerned that when Dave passes away, Lucy might not want to continue working with me. And if she walks away, there’s a fair chance their kids might go too.
I’d like to do something about that - not just for business reasons, though I won’t pretend that’s not part of it. I know I’ve dropped the ball here and there’s an important lesson to learn going forward. But right now, I don’t know how to suddenly start engaging her more without it seeming awkward or manipulative.
So here’s my question: is it too late to turn this around? Or is there still a way to open up a better professional relationship with Lucy without making things uncomfortable?
Yours,
Late to the Party
Dear Late to the Party,
Your letter stood out to me because of how relatable it is. We’ve all experienced that thud of realisation that we might have left something too late. Your question also echoes the quiet confessions and concerns I hear so often from thoughtful, well-meaning financial professionals who have just simply dropped the ball in exactly this way. I want to reassure you that you are not alone.
But yes, your concern is real and unfortunately well founded. Research suggests that up to 70% of widows change advisers within a year of their husband’s death (Money Marketing, 2021). And as wealth increasingly shifts into the hands of women; building meaningful, mutual relationships with all your clients—not just the ones who speak loudest or most often—is essential.
The good news is that it is rarely too late to repair a relationship. Or rather it’s never too late to try. Of course, you can’t control how Lucy responds, but you can take responsibility for your part in this dynamic.
In psychotherapy, we talk about ‘rupture and repair’ - which includes the idea that relationships inevitably involve moments of disconnection, misalignment or carelessness. Whilst not intentional of course, your complicity with Dave taking the lead, leaving Lucy in the background, may have left her feeling unimportant or unseen by you. On the flip side, her ‘off-handedness’ appears to have left you a little bruised too.
But all is not necessarily lost. I invite you to see this rupture in your relationship with Lucy as an opportunity rather than a closing chapter. Because in fact repair can often deepen trust and connection more than if the rupture hadn’t ever happened at all.
That said, it will take courage. The kind of courage and vulnerability that asks you to put aside your professional mask and meet Lucy human to human—with authenticity, humility, and a willingness to hear what’s true for her, even if it’s hard to hear.
You might find your own words to say something like:
‘Dave’s diagnosis casts a different light on our work going forward Lucy. It’s made me realise that I haven’t served you as well as I could have. I regret that and am sorry I haven’t had the insight or the courage to face it sooner. It’s hard to admit, I’ve sometimes felt like you were less interested in my advice than Dave was, and I suppose I have taken the easier path of focusing on him. That’s on me. But I’d really like to understand your perspective. How has that felt to you? Perhaps it has felt like I was the one dismissing you’.
And then you need to listen. Not to rebut. Or reply. Or justify. Or explain. But to build a shared understanding that you can move forward from.
I realise I’m asking a lot of you here, Late to the Party. I’m asking you to listen in a way that’s very different from the way we usually do it. I’m asking you to take responsibility for your part, without defensiveness. I’m also asking you to be vulnerable with someone you fear might brush you off.
But as Brené Brown reminds us, “Vulnerability is the birthplace of connection.” And connection is what builds trusted, loyal and allied client relationships. It’s what creates the conditions for Lucy and her children to remain in your custodianship.
That of course, is in Lucy’s gift alone. If she does brush you off, if she does decide to find another adviser after Dave dies, you’ll know you tried. And you’ll be able to stand tall, knowing you didn’t hide behind professionalism or compromise your integrity. You took a risk. You showed up fully. Better late than never.
One final perspective to offer. I’ve leaned into your personal responsibility in my response to your letter. But another route might have been to pause on something else you mentioned: that your colleagues are facing similar issues which suggests this might be part of a wider pattern, not just a one-off.
So I’d also encourage you to take a wider lens and wonder whether there’s something happening at a cultural level in your firm? Something around how attention is given, whose voices are drawn in, and who might be left quietly in the background. These things are rarely intentional, but they do shape the client experience in powerful ways. Sometimes what’s needed isn’t just individual insight, but a shared willingness to reflect, realign, and occasionally, to navigate a bit of rupture and repair together.
Warmly,
Emma at Emotional Finance
Got a question for Emma? If you’d like to ask for some advice on a dilemma or issue at work, please submit your question anonymously below.