...but what is actually wrong with everyone, tho?
Tuesday Tastemaker #34: How to handle shitty people being shitty
Hooo-wee!
In these past two weeks, I’ve witnessed some truly shocking behavior on the world wide web.
Most of it I can’t actually tell you about, either because it would violate confidentiality, or because it’s not my story to tell.
But let’s just say…
Abusive text messages.
Facebook pile-ons.
Manipulative business partnerships.
Shaming Slack threads.
My friend Mary told me last week that according to the stars, this was the week when people showed their true colors, and I gotta say, I think she (and the stars) are onto something here.
We live in a time of disconnection and isolation. The ability to hide behind a screen while dumping your most heinous thoughts into an unfiltered text diatribe that you can shove into anyone’s face, regardless of the time of day or the fact that your intended target has no way to consent to this, has brought out the worst in humanity.
We already know this. But lately, it seems extra.
I’ve had to write my fair share of “Dear John” emails, as has every single service provider I’ve ever met. Many founders think it’s okay to treat service providers like shit, either because:
They’ve received bad advice of the “4-Hour Work Week” or #girlboss variety:
In these business models, the “help” is underneath you, and their main function is to toil away at the shit you don’t want to do so you can operate in your “zone of genius.”
With that dynamic in place, service providers are rarely seen as seasoned experts who know more about what they do than the founder, or as human beings whose time is just as valuable as the founder’s. Instead, they’re beck-and-call order-takers.
They come from a corporate background that was super stuffy and hierarchical:
A lot of founders have a tough time adapting to online business culture, and freelancer culture especially. They can’t see that each of their service providers is also a business owner, just like them, and you can’t respect what you can’t see.
They also have a harder time being cool with the more laid-back communication style of most freelancers, and MAN do they love to “hop on a call,” which often eats into the time we have to do our work.
Hurt people hurt people:
Abusive cycles are abusive cycles, period. Anyone who pretends that their personal history, trauma, attachment style, and relationship dynamics aren’t at play in their professional relationships is lying to themselves and the world.
So yes. I can have compassion for these blow-outs when they happen.
AND they also stress me the fuck out, derail my nervous system, steal days (and sometimes weeks) of productive work on my end, and just generally make me feel really terrible about myself.
To be clear, I do not have some magic formula to prevent any of the above from happening. I learned a long time ago that this would be a fruitless endeavor, and frankly, I’m glad I feel these things. It means I’m human and compassionate and sensitive, and I care. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
But I also can’t stand to see my friends and loved ones get bullied, taken advantage of, or otherwise treated unfairly. DO NOT MESS WITH MY FRIENDS, PAL. 😠
So today, I thought I’d share some general guidelines for when you have to write a “please fuck off but also don’t sue me” email. Enjoy:
Do be brief, and be clear. Say as little as possible and make sure you clarify what will happen next (i.e. “No more work will be completed, and no refund will be issued.”)
Don’t leave the door open for further conversations, phone calls, or any communication you don’t actually want.
Do let them know if you’d be open to work with them in the future — but only if you are *actually* open to work with them in the future. Don’t say something like this just to soften the blow.
Do stand up for yourself. I once had a potential client tell me my contract didn’t represent “what he knew of me,” which was based on a 20-minute conversation, and then ask to proceed without such an oppressive document. I replied thusly:
I'm saddened to hear that this contract has offended you. I'm not comfortable proceeding without a written agreement, however, so I'm going to pass on this opportunity. I really do believe in your causes and wish you the best of luck with your fundraising efforts! :)
Don’t rush. Never communicate from that freaky, shaky, adrenaline place. Nothing good comes of that. Take the time you need to say the right thing (for YOU).
Do be kind (to a point). Blergggh. It sucks, but it’s true: kindness is always better. That said, there are a lot of fun little ways to insert some under-the-radar fuck-yous — but that kind of advanced wordsmithing that requires a deft hand. (I WILL DO THIS FOR YOU FOR FREE. Nobody puts Baby in a corner!)
Do call in reinforcements. Have someone (even AI) help you process what happened, reinforce your sanity and the reaction this exchange has set off, and definitely have someone give your message a good once-over before you send it.
If you don’t have a gaggle of friends who can shore you up when the adrenaline starts flying and/or help you compose the *perfect* response to some shitty shenanigans, EMAIL ME PLEASE.
No one should have to navigate this kind of thing on their own. And I’m a pretty good person to have in your corner next time you’re in a fight.
Lastly, I’ll leave you with this super-secret sign-off I picked up from a friend a long time ago. You add this at the end of your draft (but DON’T SEND IT! omg) so you feel better about eating whatever bullshit you got served.
Ready?
Die in a hole,
Sam
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