I didn't realize how much a client relationship had affected me until the project was over.
Ever since I terminated my contract with a previous client around the middle of September 2026, I've found it surprisingly difficult to get back into the zone.
I couldn't concentrate.
I couldn't design the way I normally do.
Even when I opened Figma, there was this voice in the back of my head asking:
“Is this actually good?”
And I knew exactly where that voice came from.
Have you ever heard the saying that an unhealthy relationship can make you afraid to enter another relationship again?
That was exactly what happened to me.
I thought I had seen difficult clients before
I've been freelancing for about two years, working with developers, clients and different teams.
I've handled revisions.
I've handled tight deadlines.
I've had clients disagree with my designs.
I've had designs changed after spending hours on them.
None of that was new to me.
But this experience was different.
For about three months, I worked with a Nigerian-based UK client, and gradually, the way the project was being handled started affecting how I saw myself as a designer.
It felt like everyone could see something in my work except the person I was working for.
The constant complaints.
The raised voice.
The repeated criticism.
The feeling that nothing was ever quite right.
At first, I thought:
“This is just part of freelancing.”
So I kept going.
150+ screens and counting
At one point, I had designed more than 150 screens, with more flows still left to complete.
The deadline was getting closer.
I had less than 10 days to finish the remaining work.
Yet we could spend a significant amount of time discussing things like a dollar sign that needed to be changed to a pound sign, or whether an icon should be a calendar instead of a clock.
Now, to be clear, those details matter.
A good designer should care about them.
The problem wasn't the feedback itself.
It was the way the feedback was delivered and the amount of mental energy each conversation consumed.
It became a pattern.
I'd hear things like:
“Why do I have to keep repeating everything to you?”
I'd respond:
Calm down. We still have time to go through everything.
But the conversations would continue.
My client also relied heavily on AI tools when making decisions about the product. He was using Claude MCP as part of his workflow, and sometimes he would compare the work against other products before deciding whether a direction was acceptable.
Again, using AI wasn't the problem.
The problem was that I started feeling like I was constantly defending my design decisions against another source of validation.
Instead of designing, reviewing and improving, I was increasingly designing while wondering what criticism would come next.
“Call me before you start working”
One instruction that stuck with me was:
“Call me before you start working.”
I understand wanting alignment.
In fact, good product design requires communication.
But when every design decision starts feeling like it needs prior approval, something changes.
You stop feeling like the designer responsible for solving the problem.
You start feeling like someone waiting for permission.
There were also moments when I'd hear:
“We need to look at these together.”
There's absolutely nothing wrong with looking at designs together.
That's what collaboration is.
But there is a difference between:
“This is looking good. Let's improve these areas.”
and:
“This design is wrong.”
When the second one becomes the dominant pattern, it starts getting into your head.
At least, it got into mine.
The night I realized something was wrong
There was one night I remember very clearly.
It was a weekday.
It had just stopped raining.
It was around 8 PM when he called.
We went through the usual feedback.
The currency symbol.
The icons.
Small details.
Things that needed fixing.
Then he asked:
“The deadline is close. Will you be able to deliver or not?”
And honestly, that question hit differently.
Because I knew how much time I had already spent.
Not just designing.
Explaining.
Re-explaining.
Jumping on calls.
Going through screens.
Trying to understand changing expectations.
Trying to defend decisions.
There were times when a call would leave me so mentally and physically exhausted that after it ended, I would just go to sleep.
I wasn't sleeping because I didn't want to work.
I was exhausted from the process.
And I think that was the moment I started realizing that something was seriously wrong.
I was no longer designing freely
This is probably the hardest part for me to admit.
I started doubting my own design judgment.
I'd open Figma and look at my work differently.
Instead of asking:
“Does this solve the user's problem?”
I'd ask:
“What is he going to say is wrong with this?”
That's a completely different way of designing.
I wasn't designing for the user anymore.
I was designing while anticipating criticism.
And once that happens, creativity becomes difficult.
I remember working on the mobile version of the booking system with a colleague.
We spent hours converting the screens.
We were tired, but we got the work done.
Then the feedback came.
“This is wrong.”
“This is wrong too.”
“This should be changed.”
We spent almost three hours discussing the designs.
And even after all of that, I still felt like the direction wasn't completely clear.
Eventually, I started realizing that what was expected wasn't necessarily what had been communicated to me at the beginning.
That was frustrating.
Because how do you confidently solve a design problem when the actual expectation keeps moving?
The decision
Eventually, I reached a point where I had to make a decision.
I told the client that I might not be able to deliver the remaining work.
That wasn't an easy decision.
I had spent months on the project.
I had invested time.
I had invested energy.
I had built a significant part of the product.
But I knew something else.
If I continued, I wasn't going to produce my best work.
And I wasn't mentally okay.
So I left.
That decision gave me relief, but it didn't immediately fix everything.
The part nobody talks about
The strange thing is that the project ended, but the effect didn't end immediately.
I had another client who liked my work and wanted to onboard me.
Normally, that would have been exciting.
Instead, I found myself struggling to concentrate.
I was looking at my designs expecting someone to tell me:
“This isn't good.”
“Change this.”
“Why did you do it this way?”
I had become so used to criticism that I started anticipating it even when nobody was giving it to me.
That's when I understood something.
Sometimes you can leave a difficult working relationship physically while still carrying it mentally.
And that's what I had to work through.
I had to take a break from designing.
Not because I had suddenly become a bad designer.
Not because I had forgotten everything I knew.
But because I needed to get my confidence back.
What this experience taught me
A senior colleague once told me something that stayed with me:
“These are all experiences. Nobody will truly understand them unless they've gone through something similar.”
I understand that now.
Some experiences teach you how to use Figma better.
Some teach you how to run a design process.
And some teach you how important it is to understand the person you're working with.
I've learned that client fit matters.
Communication matters.
How feedback is delivered matters.
Clear expectations matter.
And boundaries matter.
You can be good at what you do and still end up in a working relationship that makes you question yourself.
That doesn't automatically mean you're a bad designer.
Sometimes the environment simply isn't allowing you to do your best work.
My takeaway for freelancers and creatives
Before opening Figma.
Before opening your code editor.
Before starting that next project.
Understand who you're working with.
Just like you take time to understand the product, the users, the business and the requirements, take time to understand the person you're going to be working with.
How do they communicate?
How do they give feedback?
How do they handle disagreements?
Are expectations clear?
Do they trust the people they hire?
And most importantly:
Know when it's time to leave.
Leaving a project doesn't always mean you failed.
Sometimes, it means you recognized that staying was costing you more than the project was worth.
I'm still getting back into my rhythm.
I'm still rebuilding that confidence.
But I know one thing now.
I don't want to design from fear again.
I want to design because I understand the problem, I understand the user, and I trust the process I've built over the years.
That's the kind of designer I want to be.
And that's the experience I'll carry into the next project.
This is where I'll drop my pen, dear humble reader.
Top comments (2)
Opening Figma after that client and hearing "is this actually good" before you even start. So real. That is not you becoming a worse designer. Your subconscious decides how safe you are through a filter called the RAS. Raised voices, "this is wrong," and designing around anticipated criticism trained it to treat your own judgment as unsafe, so it clamps. Knowing the environment was the problem does not unlock it by itself.
You cannot will that open by forcing yourself back into every new client. Your brain is a neural network trained on three months where defending every dollar sign and icon felt like the only way to survive. Old data says wait for permission. New data is the only overwrite.
Leaving was already a rep. Now train outside Figma too. Genuine compliment to a stranger. When that is easy, add a bit of conversation. Then stay in it a beat longer. Does not matter how it goes. The action is the win, not how fast the next client feels safe. When one room gets easy, find a harder one. That is how the lock comes off so you design for the user again instead of for the next criticism.
This comment actually made me pause for a while.
The part about designing around anticipated criticism is something I can really relate to.
After that project, I noticed that I wasn't waiting for anyone to criticize my design anymore. I was already doing it to myself before anyone else could.
I would open Figma and start asking myself, “Is this actually good?” before I even started working.
And you're right, forcing myself into another client project may not be the best way to recover from it. I think I need to gradually rebuild my confidence and remind myself that not every client or design conversation will feel like the previous one.
Thank you for putting this into words. The idea of creating new experiences instead of forcing myself to quickly get back to work is something I'll definitely take with me.