The two times I actually negotiated my salary turned out nothing like I initially expected. Nevertheless, at both occasions I walked away with a raise and a story to tell.
Salary negotiations have the reputation of a boss fight in a video game: sweaty palms, dramatic music in your head, and the sense that one wrong move will end everything. In reality? At least for me, they were more like slightly awkward but surprisingly friendly conversations where both sides fumbled their way toward common ground.
So far, I’ve only had two moments in my life where I negotiated my salary. The first was when I moved from my first job, an external traineeship, into a full-time contract at the same employer. The second came not long after, when a crisis I’d helped manage during the end of that traineeship period eventually fast-tracked me into a hefty promotion. Two talks, close together, both of which taught me a bunch of lessons I’ll take with me for the rest of my career.
But before those negotiations, there was a moment where I got it completely wrong.
The Offer I Should’ve Questioned
When I got my very first job offer after graduating university, I accepted it immediately. No questions, no pushback, just “yes, thank you, where do I sign?”. I was relieved to have an offer at all after months of financial stress, and the number seemed reasonable enough.
It wasn’t until months later, working alongside people who’d started around the same time, that I realized there probably had been room to negotiate. Not much, maybe, but enough to matter. I’d treated the offer like a price tag at a store: take it or leave it, but definitely don’t haggle.
That mistake stuck with me. So when the traineeship ended and I moved into a full-time contract at the same employer, I decided to do things differently.
The First Time: Immediately Throwing the Script Away
Going into my first negotiation, I treated it like a courtroom drama. I had notes, counterarguments, and so many scenarios mapped out it looked like I was planning a heist. You know I like to meticulously prepare, but I think my Master’s thesis would have looked a lot better if I had approached it in the same way as this negotiation.
In hindsight I did too much overthinking on this one, because I was immediately presented with an offer. A decent one, actually, that would mean a significant increase compared to my traineeship salary. But when the discussion really started I immediately blurted out a line I hadn’t rehearsed at all, one that would steer the conversation so much that I immediately realized all preparation could go down the drain: “How does this number actually reflect my knowledge, experience, and recent performance?”
Silence. Then a pause. And what followed was a completely different kind of conversation than I’d imagined upfront.
Turns out it was also the best question I could have asked at that moment, and one that made the HR representative and manager I was on the video call with start acting a little awkward. Because the offer they’d given me? It was the same one everyone else got. Copy-paste, the cheapest possible option they could get away with, no consideration of me whatsoever.
And suddenly, the conversation shifted from talking about a number to something else. Instead, we were forced to start talking about me. My contributions, my potential, and how my story compared to the people around me.
And because of that story, we had to recalibrate the numbers to accurately reflect it. The raise I got wasn’t necessarily huge, just a few percent extra, but it mattered. I stood up for myself at that moment. Partially for my bank account, of course, but much more for the feeling of actually being seen, heard and valued.
Turns out a negotiation doesn’t always need to be a duel where one side has to come out on top. I’ve actually seen some of the best ideas and deals come up in unexpected moments: Cigarette breaks after heated conversations, hostage negotiations where the negotiator came straight from a party, or simply while enjoying a couple of beers in the pub. Simple quests for mutual understanding and agreement, where both parties walk away content with the outcome.
The Second Time: Saying “Not Enough”
Half a year later, I unexpectedly found myself in the same situation again. An important delivery had missed its deadline near the end of my traineeship, and I’d stepped in ad-hoc to get it back on track. It wasn’t pretty, but I got it delivered as soon as realistically possible. That eventually became the basis for my promotion ticket, moving from an IT-related role to a management-related one.
So when they offered me a new position in a significantly higher salary band, I should’ve been thrilled. Bring out the champagne, right? Well… not exactly. Because the number that was being put on the table was, again, the lowest possible in the new band.
Completely understandable from the perspective of a cost-conscious employer, just like the offer I received in the other negotiation, and it was still a very significant raise compared to my previous salary. But let’s be honest: “Congratulations, here’s the bare minimum” is not exactly a reason to take all of your friends to the nearest pub and give them a drink on the house.
So I pushed back. Not with rude intentions, but just honestly: “I know I don’t have all the required experience yet. But if I’ve already shown enough to earn this promotion, then the number should reflect at least some of that too.”
That’s when I hit resistance. The response came quickly: “We’re already giving you a hefty promotion. Isn’t that enough?”
I could’ve backed down right there. It would’ve been easier. But I held my ground. “I appreciate the promotion, and I’m grateful for it. But my story, what I’ve actually contributed and what I’m capable of, isn’t reflected in the lowest number of the band. That’s what I’m asking for.”
Another pause. Then recalibration. Again, I walked away with a few percent more. Not a jackpot that had me bathing in gold like Scrooge McDuck, but enough to feel respected and to know that the story behind the number made sense. And even those small percentages could compound into much larger numbers over a whole career.
That second conversation taught me something just as valuable: sometimes the most powerful move is politely and honestly saying, “Thanks, but not quite yet.”
What Changed
Looking back at both negotiations, I realize they taught me something completely different than what I expected going in.
I’d walked into that first conversation thinking I needed to win an argument. But the question I blurted out, “How can I recognize myself in this number?”, shifted everything. It wasn’t about winning. It was about making sure the number made sense in context. My contribution, my potential, my value relative to others. When the story was right, the number followed naturally. When it wasn’t, that’s when I needed to push back.
And pushing back in that second negotiation, even after getting a hefty promotion? That felt uncomfortable in the moment. They’d already given me a significant raise, and questioning it felt almost ungrateful. But holding my ground on “my story isn’t reflected in the lowest number of the band” wasn’t about being greedy. It was about being seen accurately.
Those “few percent extra” from both conversations might not sound life-changing. But over a career, they compound like interest in a savings account. Every raise builds on the previous salary. Every percentage point carries forward. That first job I accepted without negotiating? I’ll never get those compounding percentages back.
I also learned that transparency beats tactics every time. I didn’t use clever scripts or negotiation tricks. I just asked honest questions and stated what felt fair. My girlfriend once did the same when she had two job offers: she told both companies openly about it, and ended up with a tailor-made package at one of them that included a generous signing bonus. Turns out honesty often works better than playing games.
But none of this works if you’re desperate. Being willing to say no, or at least temporarily walk away, requires having options. That’s much easier when you have a financial buffer backing you. It’s another reason why having solid savings matters, it gives you the freedom to stand your ground even when the number doesn’t reflect your story.
Both conversations felt awkward at the time, but they gave me more than extra money. They gave me clarity about my value, confidence to speak up, and proof that advocating for yourself doesn’t have to be a battle. Sometimes it’s just two people figuring out what “fair” looks like.
So if you ever find yourself in that sweaty-palmed moment before a salary negotiation, remember: you don’t need the perfect script or aggressive tactics. You just need the right questions and curiosity about whether the number reflects your story. And that alone might give you an opportunity to help shape the narrative that influences the number, and guarantee that both you and your employer walk away from it with a smile.
If this story gave you something, feel free to pass it on!
Leave a Reply