I Failed. But I’m Getting Better.
This hurts to write. It hurts to fail. A lot. I failed hard a few months ago. But I’m getting better.
One day everything is perfect. The next day I’m almost fired.
I worked for years to build a relationship with a potential client. Then one day, that relationship bloomed into contractual work. For three months I got to do organizationally-challenging, mindset-shifting, real-world-changing work with them. Everything was great! We even got another team at the client to do a second project with us. It was then that I got too comfortable. I got casual in my relationship, and as a result, offended someone, and damaged the relationship I worked so hard to build.
I never got a warning. I never had a one-on-one where they explained what happened. I’m literally still not quite sure exactly who was offended or why. One day everything was perfect. The next day I was almost fired.
I was hurt. I was confused. Exclamations echoed in my mind—“I’m a good person! What did I say? Who are my accusers? Why can’t I defend myself? What was the context? This isn’t fair!”
The Villain Unmasked
The details aren’t really important. My boss was able to share with me third-hand some of what happened. But honestly, I didn’t remember the instances, and upon review, they seemed contextually trite. But again, with half a year of perspective, I realize now that the details don’t matter. What matters is that others were offended by something I said. It doesn’t matter why I did it, or if I didn’t mean it. Someone was hurt, and they were hurt by me. Because I am not the victim in this story. I am the villain. It’s taken me a while to figure this out, but, as I said, I’m getting better.
It doesn’t matter why I did it, or if I didn’t mean it. Someone was hurt, and they were hurt by me. Because I am not the victim in this story. I am the villain.
It stings to discover you’re the bad guy in a story. Your brain doesn’t want to process it, and actively works to prevent you from accepting an idea contrary to your own, currently-held biases (in this instance, identifying as the victim). It’s like that moment when, as you watch the LEGO movie, you realize you are President Business. (Yes, that happened to me as well). In theatre and cinema, the best evil antagonists are played by actors who know a little trick: The villain thinks they’re the good guy. I can’t begin to sort through and describe the gamut of emotions I’ve gone through the past couple of months, as I’ve slowly discovered this. It still hurts. I haven’t even been physically able to issue an apology or make any kind of restitution. I’m simply cut off. But again, I have to remind myself — I am not the victim here.
I failed, but I’m not a failure.
It’s a simple truth that as a consultant, you’re less than expendable to your client. You’re whatever the client needs you to be. Sometimes that means you shoulder the failure of a project (even if it wasn’t you). Sometimes that means you’re the target of blame (even if it wasn’t you). Sometimes that means you don’t get the benefit of the doubt (even if you should). You simply go away. These are actually all selling points of why you hire a consultant in the first place. When you’ve never had a client relationship go sideways, it’s easy to forget these facts. I pride myself on my client relationships. It’s perhaps the thing I’m best at. Or was best at. But, I’m getting better.
The fact is, I failed my client by not understanding or empathizing with how they expected our relationship to function. I failed my client by blindly, and unknowingly hurting them with casual words. I failed my employer by failing my client. I failed my family by failing my employer. I failed myself by failing my family. I failed, but I’m not a failure.
A Failure to Empathize
As an Experience Designer one of the key pillars of the Triforce of UX is Empathy. It is, perhaps, the most critical emotional skill you can have as a designer. Maybe as a human being. You must channel the thoughts, feelings, habits, routines, and mental models of the people you’re solving problems for. My CEO has written two books on customer experience. He talks a lot about keeping your clients’ needs top of mind and trying to provide your clients with solutions not just to the problems they hired you to address, but also provide solutions to issues they hadn’t even anticipated yet. I lost sight of one of the critical components of the consultant/client relationship. Clients aren’t your friends. You aren’t your clients’ friend. My role as a consultant is to solve problems and provide value to my clients. To ensure that they feel they get more value out of our interactions and my deliverables than the fee they paid. That’s it. Everything starts there. In the end, I wasn’t able to empathize with my client and proactively address their professional needs, because I wasn’t looking at them through the proper lens. In effect, I’d designed my interactions with the client using the wrong persona. I couldn’t empathize with them because I didn’t truly know them as I should have.
They say the sale doesn’t start until the customer says “no.” Perhaps it’s not much of a stretch then to say growth doesn’t start until a client fires you.
I am sorry for causing any discomfort or distress to my client. I am sorry for the pressure it put on my team to adjust for my abrupt departure from the project. I am sorry for the uncomfortable conversations that were had by everyone surrounding this whole mess.
So What?
I’d like to mention how grateful I am to my employer for not firing me. They could have. Easily. But, once my boss had reviewed all the data, he didn’t believe it warranted dismissal. So instead, we had a radically candid 1:1 where we discussed how and why this all happened, and how we’d ensure the client and project were handled moving forward (under a new manager) to ensure future success. Now, damaging a relationship with a client could easily garner a pink slip, but instead, he used this as a teaching moment to help me become a better manager, consultant, and professional.
So…what am I doing about it? How will I learn from this, ensure that it never happens again, and help others avoid it altogether?
The short answer is anything and everything. Like most of us, I’m figuring this out as I go. The first thing I’ve done is radically shortened the list of topics open for discussion with clients. Work is work. There are times and places for discussions of various topics, and work should carve many of those topics out completely.
Next, I’ve tried to weave a stronger filter between my brain and my mouth. (I think this is something just about everyone can use a healthy helping of from time to time). Not every stupid little thought that blunders its way across the stage of our minds needs to be trotted out the mouth for all to hear. The first step of this is continuing to improve my active listening skills. We have two ears, and one mouth and should be using them in a similar ratio. Perhaps if I’d been a better listener, or even simply spoken less, this all could have been avoided. I’m painfully reminded of the adage “Tis far better to keep one’s mouth closed and be thought a fool than to open it and remove all doubt.”
Next is this article. I don’t know what will come of it. I don’t know what people will make of it. It may be the only apology I get to offer my client. I’d like to make amends, and repair any damage if possible, but that remains to be seen.
Lastly, it may simply be that the purpose of my experience has been to serve as a warning to others. Let my mistakes help you avoid making any of your own.
It hurts to grow. A lot. I’m growing now. I’m learning from my failures. I’m thankful for more chances. I will do better.
When we’re successful, we worry we got there by accident. When we fail, we feel justified in our self-doubt. But we can’t allow failure to color, hinder, or prevent future efforts. We must double-down on investing in ourselves, knowing we’re worth it.
I failed. But I’m getting better. You may fail. But you’ll get better too.
Here’s to future opportunities, major personal improvements, growth, and most of all, to second chances.