The 5 Stages of a Dying Partner Relationship

Most partner relationships don’t crash and burn. They fizzle.

They start with momentum—shared goals, aligned messaging, maybe even a few enthusiastic Slack threads. Everyone agrees this is the one. “High potential,” you say. “Strategic fit,” someone adds. “We’re excited,” they assure you.

Then… nothing.

Not all at once. Just gradually enough to make it feel fixable.

The meetings get shorter. The follow-through gets slower. The enthusiasm quietly leaves the building, and no one bothers to hold the door.

But because nothing is technically broken—no contract pulled, no angry email sent—you keep it alive. You downgrade expectations, throw in more resources, and tell yourself this is just how partnerships work (it’s not).

Sound familiar? It should. Because this isn't just a random lull—it's a pattern. One backed by psychology, powered by bias, and funded by your budget.

And yes, it absolutely has stages. Like a relationship breakup, except with more PowerPoint slides and fewer tearful playlists.

Let's walk it down.

They Just Need More Time

This is the phase where hope disguises itself as strategy.

You’re weeks—or months—past the launch. The partner hasn’t delivered much of anything, but the language hasn’t caught up to reality yet. Internally, the story still sounds like:

• "They're aligning cross-functionally" (translation: no one there knows what we do)

• "They're about to ramp" (translation: they remembered our name once)

• "They've got a few deals in flight" (translation: someone mentioned us in a meeting)

On the surface, everyone’s being patient. In reality, everyone’s trying not to be the first one to admit this might already be off-track.

Denial is a group activity. No one wants to sound negative, so you collectively decide to give it "one more quarter" based on the sheer force of optimism (because nothing fixes business problems like the passage of time without action, right?).

The Bias at Work: Status Quo Bias
When a decision feels uncomfortable, the brain will always default to doing nothing. Denial isn’t laziness—it’s self-preservation, dressed in a perfectly reasonable delay.

The Move: Get clear on what early traction actually looks like.
Not potential. Not politeness. Not the promise of pipeline. Actual, observable behaviors. Did they bring your message into a sales meeting? Did they ask for deal support? Did anyone on their team even log into the portal?

Hope is not a KPI.

Why aren’t they using anything we give them?

You’ve trained them. You’ve enabled them. You’ve sent them battlecards, use cases, pitch decks, and possibly a curated Spotify playlist called “Close the Deal.”

And somehow, they still can’t seem to lift a finger.

At this point, the relationship feels less like a partnership and more like a one-sided group project where you’re doing all the work while they occasionally show up with questions like, “Can we get MDF for that thing we didn’t promote?” (Bold. Very bold).

You’re not mad. You’re just… exhausted.

The Bias at Work: Effort Justification
The more energy you pour in, the more your brain convinces you it must be worth it. Otherwise, you’re just the person who wrote six versions of a partner playbook no one asked for. And let's not go there (it's dark, and there's no wine).

The Move: Stop treating activity like commitment.
If they’re not showing up with intent, using your resources, or executing on anything, you don’t need to train them again. You need to stop pretending this is a partnership and admit it’s just unpaid consulting.

Let’s give them one more quarter.

Ah yes, the most expensive sentence in partnerships. Right up there with "How bad could it be?" and "Let's just use Excel to track this."

You know this partner isn't delivering. They know it too. But instead of calling time, you start re-negotiating your own standards like you're trying to sell yourself on a used car you already know doesn't start in the winter.

• "Maybe if we change the messaging..." (for the fourth time)

• "Maybe they just need one more campaign..." (because the first three worked so well)

• "Maybe if we loop in the VP of Alliances and send cupcakes..." (because sugar fixes everything)

You’re not strategizing. You’re stalling—with better formatting.

The Bias at Work: Sunk Cost Fallacy
You’ve put in time, budget, emotional energy, and at least one internal partner tracker. Of course you want it to work. But hope isn't a strategy—and it's definitely not a QBR slide.

The Move: Run the reboot test.
If this partner came in today with the behavior and results you’re seeing now, would you approve their onboarding? If the answer is no, don’t reward the past. Reclaim the future.

Let’s just keep them on the list and focus elsewhere.

This is where it gets quiet. Not in a peaceful way—in a vaguely shameful way. Like when you still have your ex's Netflix login but don't mention it to anyone.

You've stopped expecting anything. But instead of off-boarding them, you let them drift. They still get the newsletter. They're still in the deck. No one wants to have the conversation, so the relationship becomes a weird ghost in the machine.

They're not a problem. They're just... there.

The Bias at Work: Ostrich Effect
The brain avoids what it doesn’t want to deal with. So instead of confronting the underperformance, you quietly ignore it, like it’ll eventually handle itself (it won’t).

The Move: Build an off-boarding motion that isn’t awkward.
This isn’t high school dating. You can end things respectfully, clearly, and on purpose. Make “strategic closure” a normal part of your partner ops. It’s not personal. It’s precision.

They’re just not the right fit.

It doesn’t end in a fight. It ends with a calendar invite that keeps getting rescheduled until everyone quietly stops trying. The partner isn’t mad. You’re not mad. You’re just… done pretending.

No one really announces it. It just slips off the roadmap, the forecast, and eventually, your team’s memory. Until someone three months later asks, “Hey, whatever happened with…?” And you all shrug and move on.

The Bias at Work: Normalization of Deviation
Underperformance becomes background noise. The problem isn’t that you didn’t notice. It’s that you noticed, accepted it, and then made it normal.

The Move: Re-define what “good” looks like.
If you don’t make expectations explicit, underperformance will keep getting grandfathered in. And eventually, your team won’t know the difference between a strategic partner and a polite one with a logo.

You don't need to feel bad for going through this cycle. It's not weakness. It's human nature—with a side of corporate inertia. But if you're going to lead partner relationships with strength, you need language for the quiet decline.

This isn't about being cold. It's about being clear. Because the longer you justify a failing partnership, the more it costs—not just in pipeline or resources, but in momentum and morale.

So if one came to mind while reading this, trust that instinct. And don't wait until Q4 to do something about it.

No excuses — just smarter moves.

// Ann-Louise