What to Charge a Friend Who Wants to Hire You
When a friend asks to hire you, the impulse is to undercharge or give it away. Here's why both are mistakes, and what to do instead.
Sooner or later, a friend will ask to hire you. Maybe casually, over a glass of wine: can I pick your brain about something? Maybe more formally: I'd love to work with you, what would that look like? Either way, you'll feel the floor tilt slightly.
The instinct is one of two things. Either you offer it for free, because charging a friend feels wrong, or you quote your normal rate and immediately feel like a mercenary. Both are mistakes, in different directions. The first quietly kills the friendship. The second makes the work harder than it needs to be.
There's a cleaner shape, but you have to know what you're looking at first.
Why charging a friend feels wrong (and why it usually isn't)
The feeling comes from confusing two registers. In the friendship register, what passes between you is gift. You listen to each other's hard days. You show up at the hospital. You don't bill for any of it. The currency is reciprocity over time.
In the professional register, what passes between you is contracted attention. A specific kind of focus, a structure, a stake, a different shape of presence than friendship provides.
When a friend asks to hire you, what they're asking for is the second register. They aren't asking for friendship-with-extra-listening. They want the structure. They want the appointment. They want what your other clients are actually paying for.
If you give them friendship-quality time instead, you'll feel resentful within a month. They'll feel quietly disappointed, because the thing they wanted to buy is the thing you didn't deliver. The friendship takes the hit either way.
Charging is the move that protects the friendship. Not charging is the move that erodes it.
The wrong moves
A few patterns to avoid:
Free forever. Of course, no charge, you're a friend. This sounds generous in the first meeting. It sets up a quiet creditor-and-debtor dynamic that gets worse with each session. The friend stops being able to ask for what they need. You stop being able to set boundaries. The work doesn't go anywhere because there's no stake holding either party to it.
The vague discount. I'll figure something out for you, don't worry about it. The unspecified rate is worse than any specific number. The friend can't tell if they're imposing. You can't tell when to send an invoice. The ambiguity poisons every session.
The full sticker price with apologies. My rate is $300, sorry about that. The apology is the problem. It tells the friend you don't actually believe the rate, which means they shouldn't either. Now you've quoted a number you secretly don't think is real, and they've heard you say so.
The big discount you can't explain. I usually charge $300 but for you I'll do $50. The friend can do that math. They know you're either undercharging strangers or overcharging them. Either explanation puts the friendship on uncomfortable ground.
The shape that actually works
There are two configurations that hold up over time.
Option 1: One session, free. Then your normal rate.
You offer the friend a single proper session, structured, on the calendar, at your usual length. No charge. Treat it as you would any first session.
At the end, if the work seems worth continuing, you quote your normal rate plainly. I'd love to keep working with you. My rate is $400 a session. If that doesn't fit, no pressure, but I don't want to do this halfway.
The free first session is the gift. The continuation is the work. Each is clean.
If the friend says yes at your normal rate, you have a real client and a friendship. If they say no, you have a friendship and one fewer awkward thing between you. Both outcomes are good.
Option 2: A clear, defensible discount, named once
If you'd genuinely rather have them as a client at a lower rate than not at all, name a specific discount with a specific reason.
My usual rate is $400. For people in my close circle, I have a flat rate of $250. That's the friend rate. I do it because the conversations are usually different, and because I care about the people I love being held by someone they trust. Same length, same structure, just a different number.
This works because the friend rate is a real rate, not a one-off favor. It's named. It applies to a defined group. There's a reason for it. The friend can accept it without owing anything.
What makes this work and not feel weird: the friend rate has to be a number you'd be genuinely happy charging. If it's a number you'll resent in six months, don't name it. Go back to Option 1.
When the friend can't afford either
Sometimes the friend just can't pay. This is a separate situation, and worth treating cleanly.
The honest move is to say: I love you. I can't do this work for you for free, because the work needs a stake. But I can be your friend, and I can recommend two people I trust who might work at a lower rate, and I can also point you at some writing of mine that might help in the meantime.
Then send them three things. A list of practitioners. A few essays. A specific reading.
You've done more for them than a free session would have. You've also kept the friendship in the friendship register, where it belongs.
If you find yourself often having this conversation, it's also worth asking whether your pricing is correctly positioned. A practitioner whose rate excludes most of their friend circle is a practitioner whose friend circle and target market don't overlap. That's normal. That's actually a good sign. A small practice of four to eight people was never going to be built from your dinner-party guests anyway.
What to say in the moment
When the question comes, you don't have to answer in real time. The best response is usually:
That means a lot to me. Let me think about how I'd want to do this and come back to you in a day or two.
Then you go home, decide whether this is an Option 1 or Option 2 situation, and write a short, clean note. Don't have the negotiation over dinner. Dinner is friendship register. Write the note from the professional register, the next day, and the friend will receive it cleanly.
This is also the moment where the language you use to describe what you do does double duty. The friend who's known you for ten years may have only a vague sense of what your practice actually is. The note is where you describe it cleanly, in the same words you'd use with any new client.
The smallest move
If a friend has already asked and you've been avoiding the follow-up, write the note today.
I've been thinking about what you asked. I'd love to do this with you. Here's what I'd propose...
Then name Option 1 or Option 2. Keep it under six sentences. End with a question they can say no to.
The friendships that survive this conversation are the real ones. The ones that don't would've come apart later anyway, around something more expensive than money.