Now that Lorna and I are working in close proximity to one another, we’re doing a bit more chatting about the work and a little less actual doing of the work. We knew this would be an issue, primarily because it’s difficult not to talk when someone you like is sitting a mere three feet away from you for hours of agonizingly long SEO writing time.

One of the positive benefits of working together, though, is having the time to chat about random things that arise from time to time. (Things that would not necessitate a phone call, but that are interesting all the same.)

For example: I have a new client who thinks I am the greatest thing to ever write web copy. He has hired me to overhaul his entire web page, provide regular SEO articles, and rework a brochure for him. He has also referred me to two friends of his who need similar work. Can anyone say “cash cow?”

He’s actually a really nice, gregarious guy, and we’ve chatted on the phone several times. I usually hate phone clients, since they disrupt my comfortable bubble of misanthropy, but I enjoy him. So when he ended a call with, “Thanks, sweetheart, I’ll talk to you later,” I laughed good-naturedly and went on with my business. I mentioned what he said to Lorna, and she replied with, “You know, someone called me sweetheart today, too.”

Of course, that sparked a discussion that was much more important than whatever work we were doing at the time.

In theory, Lorna and I are feminists. After all, we are living the idea that women can have it all: families, fun, and financial success. We are running a business and doing it well. We do not feel unequal to any of our male freelancing counterparts, and we would immediately resent any suggestion that men are inherently better at this work than we are.

However, I can’t help but feel a little guilty that being called “sweetheart” by one of my clients does absolutely nothing to rankle my feathers. All of my education and upbringing insists that I feel outraged he’s not treating me with the respect I deserve as a businesswoman, but in reality, I just think that’s the way he is, and I’m glad he feels comfortable with me (and continually sends more work my way).

Lorna pretty much agrees. She brought up the point that while being respected is an important part of what we do, business – no matter what business you’re in – really depends on being genuinely liked.

Bam! Let me say that again. In business, respect is good, but being liked is better.

We could be perfectly nice, respectable business owners. I could have politely asked the client not to refer to me in terms of possibly offensive endearment, and I’m fairly certain he wouldn’t have demanded his money back. But the truth is, he likes my work and he likes me as a person. What more could I want out of a business relationship? It’s why Lorna and I work well together. It’s why we get along so well with our freelancing buddies over at JCME, At Home Mom, and Garden Wall Publications. It’s why we’ve been able to really start to networking with local small businesses over glasses of wine and slightly inebriated hugs. It’s why we’re able to do well and succeed with all of our clients.

Because we all get along. We like one another.

I guess here’s where I’ll open the floor. I maintain that being called “sweetheart,” “darling,” “gals,” or any of those other potentially loaded terms does nothing to diminish my success or confidence as a freelancer. Lorna and I are young, we’re pretty cute, and we’re fun. If we can use that to our advantage, shouldn’t we? Or are we sending the wrong message to our daughters and our clients?