Editor’s Note: This article is part of a series. View all of the articles in this series here: Intuit, We Need to Talk
The early stage of relationships is exciting. You feel chosen, they notice you, and they text back. They remember what matters, and you trust what happens next because the rules stay steady.
You can plan your week without bracing, you're building something together, and you are respected in the small moments. They don’t interrupt you, and they don’t treat your time like it’s free. You can tell someone is still investing, and it gets better over time.
Time goes by, and you start to notice things. Your birthday comes and goes, and there’s no card, no gift, and not even a “Happy Birthday.” Your anniversary hits, and you hear, “That was today?” You start talking, and they pick up their phone, nodding at random spots and grunting “ok.” They light up for other people, laugh a little louder, and reply a little faster.
You are sliding down the priority list, and you stop bringing things up because you already know the script. You don’t want to beg for basic attention, so you go quiet. And then it hits you. The worst part isn’t the forgetting, it’s the indifference. You’re still ‘together’, but you’re doing life alone.
That’s the part nobody prepares you for. The relationship doesn’t end with a bang, it ends with a shrug. And the shrug is what messes with your head because you can’t argue with it. You can argue with anger and disappointment, but you can’t argue with someone who has already emotionally left the room.
First, you make excuses. You tell yourself they’re busy, that everyone is busy. You tell yourself it’s just a season and that maybe work is intense, maybe stuff is heavy, or maybe they’re stressed. You remind yourself how good it used to be, and you replay those early days like a highlight reel. That’s what keeps you staying. Not what’s happening now, but what happened then. Nostalgia is powerful, but it’s also a liar.
The real problem is that you start adjusting your own expectations to match their lack of effort. You don’t do it on purpose; you do it to avoid feeling disappointed again. You stop hoping for the call and stop expecting the follow-through. You stop asking the question because you already know the answer will be vague. You start making your own plans because waiting feels sad. That is not independence, though; it's you training yourself to need less.
If this were just about romance, it would still matter, but it’s not. This same pattern shows up in business relationships, client relationships, vendor relationships, and partnerships. Especially the ones you’ve had forever. The ones that started when everything felt simple.
In our world, QuickBooks is that long relationship for a lot of accounting professionals. You grew up with it and built your workflows around it. You trained staff on it, you built client habits inside it, and it became the shared language you used to explain a balance sheet to someone who barely knows what a balance sheet is.
And for a long time, it worked, but here’s what happens. The relationship changes, and you feel it, but not all at once. It’s a tickle in your brain. Something feels off and the reason it’s hard to name is because the product still ’works’ in the basic sense. The bank feed still pulls, the invoices still send, and the report still prints. It’s not broken, but it’s just not right.
That’s the danger zone. When you can’t point to one dramatic failure, but you also can’t honestly say, “This is making my life easier.” You start to notice the ‘forgot your birthday’ moments in software form. The price changes show up without your consent, and you are the one who has to explain it.
The Woodard Report documented how QuickBooks Online prices climbed from 2020 to 2025, including Plus moving from $70 to $115 and Advanced from $150 to $275. That’s not just a number; that’s a conversation you didn’t schedule. That’s a client email you didn’t want. It’s also a client who thinks you personally raised the price, like you’re the CEO of Accounting.
Those numbers land differently for different clients, but they all trigger the same emotion. “Do we really need this?” Your answer might be yes, or maybe it’s “not anymore.” Either way, you can feel the relationship shifting when you spend more time justifying the platform than doing the work.
Then there’s the “they’re on their phone while you talk” feeling. In software, that looks like distraction disguised as help. There are pop-ups, prompts, suggestions, add-ons, and nudges. You log in to clean books, and the environment starts pitching. Your client logs in and gets sold to. Now you’re not just doing accounting, but you’re acting as a translator and gatekeeper. “No, you don’t need that.” “Yes, that’s optional.” “No, that’s not a requirement.” It’s like trying to have a serious conversation while someone keeps tapping you on the shoulder to ask if you want to supersize.
And then there’s the ’light up for other people’ part. This is where small firms feel it in their bones. You can tell when attention shifts toward bigger clients, bigger deals, bigger everything and you see the language shift. The announcements get grander, and the focus gets broader. Meanwhile, you’re trying to do a clean close for a five-person construction company that still calls you because they can’t find the payroll report.
In November 2025, Intuit signed a multi-year partnership valued at over $100 million to integrate OpenAI models into Intuit tools, including QuickBooks. That’s a big swing, and it signals big priorities. It might lead to better automation and smarter tools, but it might also lead to more changes, more shifts, more ’new ways’ to do what you already do well. The point isn’t whether AI is good or bad. The point is what it does to trust. When you already feel like the relationship is drifting, big moves can feel like they’re happening for someone else.
Then there’s the ’anniversary was today?’ moment. That one shows up as direction changes you didn’t plan for. Intuit announced it planned to stop selling several QuickBooks Desktop products to new U.S. subscribers after September 30, 2024. If you have clients on desktop, you know the emotional whiplash this created. Some clients felt forced, some felt betrayed, some felt confused, and many firms had to hold the client’s hand through a change that the firm didn’t choose.
That’s what makes a relationship feel one-sided. You become the adult in the room, cleaning up feelings and managing change, while the other party keeps moving.
So, when is it time to leave? In Part II, I’ll tell you.
Editor’s Disclaimer
The views and opinions expressed by the author are solely their own and do not reflect the views of The Woodard Report, Woodard Events, LLC, or any affiliated organizations. The content is provided for informational purposes and should not be interpreted as an official position of any Woodard entity.