On walking the talk

Not too long ago, I got email from a former client who wanted to know if I was available to take on a project. I’d worked for this person for a long time, but I’d stopped several years ago because it had become an increasingly difficult relationship. He got into the habit of calling me to say he was sending me email, then sending the email, then calling to see if I’d received the email, and calling me again a few minutes later to ask why I hadn’t answered it yet. He started calling and emailing me late at night and on weekends, then getting angry at me when I didn’t respond until business hours. (I note for the record that no lives depended on what I was doing for him.) I tolerated this boundary-busting until the day he called me on my personal cell phone…on a Saturday afternoon…and yelled at me for not being more easily reachable. The thing is, I was on vacation, and he’d known about it for weeks. And that was the final straw. When I got back, I told him I would not be working for him any longer.

He was astonished. Honestly, so was I. He made up the majority of my income stream; I was afraid I couldn’t replace it. I’d taken so much crap from him that I think we both assumed I would never walk away. But I had finally reached the point where I would rather have taken a minimum-wage McJob than deal with him any longer.

He reinforced my decision by refusing, for about six months, to take no for an answer. He called me every few weeks, trying to lure me back. At first he tried flattery: he had a ton of work and I was the only person he trusted to do it the way he wanted it done. Then he tried passive aggression: he was overwhelmed without my help and it just wasn’t fair of me to leave him in the lurch like that. Finally, he tried bribery: he would double my pay. (I’m not sure how he thought that revealing he’d been significantly lowballing me would endear him to me.) I was steadfast in saying no, no, and no again. He eventually seemed to get the message; his recent email was the first time I’d heard from him in a couple of years.

I don’t ordinarily turn down work — expecially not in the current economy. But my answer to his latest offensive was still no.

In my work life, I’m aware that I’m damn good at what I do, and I expect to be treated as the hot commodity I know I am. And part of this journey I’m on is learning to apply that same attitude to the rest of my life. I confess that I’ve dated half-assed asshats who blew hot and cold, because I didn’t trust I could do better. I admit that I’ve accepted disrespect from people who claim to love me, simply because they’re family or because I’ve known them for years. I suspect that being a writer makes me more easily swayed than most by pretty, pretty words. But as one of my favorite bloggers frequently says, “Love is an action.” And the words need to match the actions.

And that’s as true for me as it is for the people I allow into my life.

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