Who Do You Trust?

The answer, as I have lately realized, is no one. Trust. No. One. That is my mantra. Forget those corny posters with inspirational sayings, like Persevere, Never Let Go of Your Dreams, Be Kind, or

some such BS. None will ever grace my wall. What will is the one that states: Trust. No. One.

This past week drove home that cynical truism in the worst possible way. About a year ago, I started working with a freelance editorial consultant. Essentially, he found clients, and then hired freelance writers to report and compose articles (i.e., the real work). Things had been going smoothly, or so I thought. Of course, there was the typical back-and-forth between writer and editor. Nothing out of the ordinary. He seemed pleased with my work.

Earlier this year, he asked two other freelancers and myself to ghostwrite blogs for a marketing executive. To be honest, this was a new type of assignment for me. However, since my freelance work has pushed me into areas previously unknown to me, I figured, why not give it try. When I take on a new assignment, I jump feet first, full bore. We can debate the results good or bad, but you can never question my effort.

Long story short: I did the assignment to the best of my ability, adhering to the instructions. Each of us had to “write” three blogs on topics given to us. True of my life of late, one of my assignments was one of the more difficult ones, and one, frankly, the marketing executive pretty much ignored. He obviously had no interest in dealing with the topic. Nevertheless, I tried my best.

Since the blogs were to be bylined by this marketing executive, all the articles were heavily rewritten. Considering the nature of the assignment — writing for someone else’s voice — that was to be expected. When I asked about the rewrites — remember, this is a new assignment for me and I wanted to know if the work I did was okay — I was told it was fine, that the changes were normal. All the blogs I wrote were subsequently posted on several online publications.

The editorial consultant told us there would be more work for this particular client in June. Sounds good, I thought. I can use the money and maybe I’ll do better the second time.

Well, dear reader, I think you know where this is heading. A week ago, I was dismissed from the job, or more precisely “archived” off the Internet job board where the workflow was documented. Yet another sudden, slap-in-my-face professional rejection and embarrassment.

When I questioned the editorial consultant about the reason for this, he at first gave some mealy-mouthed explanation about not having enough work to go around, the assignment changed, he didn’t need three writers, an in-house person would be doing the assignment…blah, blah, blah. Then came the real kicker: The marketing guy told the editorial consultant that he and I didn’t “click” well over the phone during our interview. When I read that, my shoulders slumped, tears stung my eyes, and my confidence sank. It hurled me back to every time I was criticized and backstabbed by bosses and co-workers.

Now, I could go into a lengthy diatribe about why we didn’t “click.” But that would take up too much space, and sound rather whiny and defensive. Since I truly do not know what he meant by that statement, I have no clue as to what possibly went wrong — or if anything did go majorly wrong. It would be pure speculation on my part. I can assure you of this: I was professional and polite during the entire assignment. I don’t know how to act any other way.

There's no point in trying to rationalize anyway. The editorial consultant has to please the client, and if the client wants me gone, well, I’m a goner. The client is always right, even if that client is a douche-bro from Connecticut, land of craft beers, beemers, and white privilege. The entire stuck-up state ought to be renamed West Rhodesia. He probably likes the ego-surge of dumping a nobody like me off the assignment. Hey, it's his money, so that gives him the right to act like a jerk.

I didn’t respond to the email about not clicking with the client. No point. I would sound crazy (although in truth I took up residence in CrazyTown many eons ago).

More upsetting was learning later the two other freelancers are still working on this assignment. What the what!? (I learned this because I still have access to the Internet job board where the assignments are posted.) So, obviously, there is enough work for three freelancers. I was not picked to continue. Was their work better than mine? Apparently so. That hurts, not only because it is a poor reflection on my work, but, dammit, I need that extra money.

I’m not angry with the editorial consultant. He has his business to run, and my insecurities and feelings are of no concern to him. His priority is his bottom line — even if that damages my bottom line. It's his prerogative to dismiss me. But I'm under no obligation to accept or like his treatment of me.

So, no, I'm not angry with him. The person I’m angriest with is myself. Yes — me, myself and I. Angry because I believed this guy when he said there would be more work on this assignment for me. I believe he liked my previous work. I trusted. And what did I get in return? I was lied to and betrayed.

There could be work for me on other client assignments, the editorial consultant mewed unconvincingly. But I’m not holding my breath. Would I consider those jobs if offered? Of course I would. My financial situation is such that I cannot refuse any job. Alas, I doubt any offer is forthcoming. The relationship, as I perceive it, has been severed. Trust broken is never to be regained. You're dead to me Fredo.

Sadly, his actions have once again hoisted me into an insidious whirlpool of self-doubt: I’m not good enough. My work is horrible. I can’t write. I suck. No one will hire me. I'll be homeless in six months.

For a year, I worked hard for this editorial consultant, toiling on the weekends and meeting my deadlines. And all seemed fine while he was underpaying and over-working me, so he could reap money off my diligence. But one client makes an offhand comment and I’m gone? How is that fair?

Sadly, this is not new experience for me. I worked for a company for 16 years, and was laid off. Another company kicked me to the curb after three. Once again — once again! — I trusted that if I worked hard, my boss would treat me right. I was wrong.

Once again — once again! — I trusted my professional future and financial stability with another person who took it away without one iota of compassion or thought of how it would affect me. They didn't care. Never will I make that mistake again. Never. 

In all those instances, never once did I get a chance to defend or explain myself — or receive a clear, logical reason why I was terminated. Perhaps the reason we didn’t “click” wasn’t all on me. Since I have no idea what he meant by that, I have no clue as to what I did wrong, if anything. At the very least, if I knew what I did wrong, I could use that information to improve for the next time. Looks like there won’t be a next time. Oh, well…

As a side note, I had followed “Mr. Didn’t Click” on Twitter and connected with him on LinkedIn. Not anymore. Doubtful this egotistical douchebag will even notice, but it was my way of saying, “click off, Buddy.”

So where do I go from here? Tomorrow is Monday. I'll submit a freelance article I've been working on for two weeks (hopefully it'll be better received than the blogs I wrote for that marketing guru/master of the universe/class A prick). I’ll scour the job boards for full-time jobs and freelance gigs. If hired, I’ll work hard, but with an understanding that I can only really depend on myself and my ability to do a good job. Employers toss you aside, with no warning or explanation. You can’t depend on them. I’ve learned my lesson.

Trust. No. One.