A Love Story Between a VA and a Client: My Journey with Dr. Jenny Tufenkian

I didn’t plan to become a VA. It wasn’t some long-term goal or a career I mapped out for myself.

It started right after the pandemic, during that uncertain time when everyone was just trying to figure things out. A friend reached out and asked if I could help with video editing.

Nothing complicated, just stitching clips together for an Australian client who needed content for their product. At that point, I didn’t even realize that kind of setup was possible. The idea that someone from overseas would trust you with their work, pay you, and rely on you—it felt distant, almost unrealistic. But I said yes anyway. I wasn’t thinking long-term. I was just trying something new, learning as I went, and making sure I delivered what was asked of me.

That small “yes” turned into something bigger without me noticing it right away. I started getting more comfortable with the work, understanding pacing, storytelling, and how videos could actually influence how people see a brand. Then after about six months, another opportunity came up. I applied to an agency called Phyllis Song Consultancy. I still remember laughing about the name with my friend Kurt. I asked him, half-joking, if it was a singing agency because of how it sounded.

Kurt was already ahead of me by a couple of weeks, going through training, and he showed me the materials they had prepared for new VAs. It looked organized, structured, and honestly, a bit intimidating. At the same time, it felt too polished to be real. Like one of those things that look good on the surface but doesn’t deliver. But I gave it a shot anyway.

Getting accepted didn’t feel real at first. Suddenly, I was part of a system, working with a team, handling real clients with expectations. My role was video editing, and my first assigned client was a martial arts school. But this wasn’t just any martial arts school. They taught people how to “see” without using their eyes. The concept alone sounded unbelievable. At first, I didn’t know what to make of it. But as I worked on their content, reviewed footage, and understood their message, I realized how unique the space was. It pushed me to think differently about storytelling and how to present something that challenges what people believe is possible. It wasn’t just editing anymore. It became interpretation.

Around that time, I would occasionally check in with Kurt and see what kind of projects he was handling. That’s when I first came across Dr. Jenny Tufenkian.

She was his client. I remember watching a few of her videos out of curiosity, and something about her stood out immediately. It wasn’t loud or overly polished. It was the opposite. She had this natural way of speaking that felt grounded and real. No unnecessary fluff, no trying too hard. Just clear communication, confidence, and a kind of calm presence that made you want to listen. I found myself paying attention not just to what she was saying, but how she was saying it.

I told Kurt that I liked her. I even said, without thinking too much about it, that I wished I could have a client like her someday. It wasn’t envy. It was more like recognition. You see someone doing something right, and you know there’s something to learn from that. At that point, though, it was just a passing thought. I was focused on my own work, my own clients, and building my skills.

Time moved fast after that. I didn’t stay in just one role. I started exploring beyond video editing, taking on responsibilities in project management, handling timelines, coordinating with teams, and eventually moving into social media and marketing. Each step felt like a natural progression, but also came with its own challenges. Different industries meant different audiences, different strategies, different expectations. There were moments when it felt overwhelming, but also moments where things just clicked. Before I knew it, three years had passed.

Then one day, I got a call from Kurt. It was casual at first, just catching up, and then he mentioned something that immediately got my attention. He said that Dr. Jenny Tufenkian was looking for someone to help with her videos. There was no long pause, no need to think it through. I just said yes. It felt like one of those full-circle moments you don’t question. Something you once wished for, now right in front of you.

Meeting her for the first time was different from what I expected. I thought I’d be more nervous, more conscious of making a good impression. And I was, for a brief moment. But that feeling didn’t last long. The conversation flowed easily, almost like we had already worked together before. There was no pressure to perform, no awkwardness. She had this way of making things feel normal, even when they weren’t. It didn’t feel like I was meeting a client for the first time. It felt like catching up with someone I already knew.

Working with Dr. Jenny Tufenkian was smooth in a way that’s hard to explain. The expectations were clear, communication was easy, and there was a sense of trust that made everything lighter. It didn’t feel transactional. It felt collaborative. Months passed quickly, and I didn’t even realize how much time had gone by until I stopped and thought about it. More than five months had already passed.

Then my birthday came. I wasn’t expecting anything beyond the usual messages, if any. But she sent me a greeting, and along with it, a video. At first, I didn’t know what it was. Then I played it. It was her dog, Ella, “singing” Happy Birthday. It caught me completely off guard. It was funny, a bit unexpected, but also strangely thoughtful. It wasn’t something you see every day. And that’s exactly why it stayed with me. It wasn’t about the effort being grand. It was about it being personal.

Moments like that don’t seem big from the outside, but they carry weight. It made me realize that even in a professional setup, small gestures matter. They create a kind of connection that goes beyond tasks and deadlines. It made the whole experience feel more human.

Eventually, like most projects, things came to an end. There was no dramatic closing, no big final moment. Just a natural stopping point. Another year passed, and when my next birthday came around, it was quiet. No message, no video. I told myself not to overthink it. People move on, get busy, focus on other things. That’s normal.

But at some point, while going through my files, I came across that old video again. Ella, still there, still “singing.” I watched it again, and this time it hit differently. I found myself laughing, but also feeling something deeper. It wasn’t just about the video anymore. It was about what it represented. A moment where someone took the time to make another person feel remembered.

Working with Dr. Jenny Tufenkian wasn’t just another entry in my list of clients. It became a reminder of what this kind of work can be when you approach it differently. It showed me that even in remote work, where everything is done through screens and messages, real connections are still possible. You can build something meaningful if you actually care about the people you’re working with.

Over time, I realized that the best client relationships aren’t built on skills alone. Skills get you in the door, but they don’t sustain the connection. What sustains it is how you show up, how you communicate, how you understand the person behind the work. It’s easy to treat everything as just another task, another deliverable. But when you take a step back and actually see your client as a person, everything shifts.

This experience changed how I approach my work. It made me more intentional, more aware of the small things that matter. Not just delivering good output, but creating an experience that people remember. Because at the end of the day, people don’t just remember what you did. They remember how you made them feel.

This isn’t a typical story. There’s no big dramatic turning point, no sudden breakthrough moment.

It’s just a series of small events that, when put together, mean something more.

A random opportunity after the pandemic. A joke about an agency name. A passing comment about a client I admired. A call that changed direction.

A birthday video from a dog named Ella.

https://video.wixstatic.com/video/638a60_0bb0de8715bf4864867cfc19532a7ff9/480p/mp4/file.mp4

And somewhere in between all of that, a connection that stayed.

If there’s anything I take from this, it’s simple. You can build real relationships in this kind of work. You can create moments that last. And sometimes, without even trying too hard, you end up being part of something that feels a little more personal than you expected.

This is a love story in its own way. Not romantic, not dramatic. Just real. Between a VA and a client.

And proof that when you do your work with heart, it reaches people in ways you don’t always see right away—but it stays.

BTW, I'm in tears while writing this blog.