This is Part 3 of the same designer. If you haven't read the previous parts, the short version is: ants, burnt noodles, a party the night before our biggest shoot, and makeup in the car on the way there. Start here.
After the photoshoot, I told her we were done. Uploading the photos, returning the props, go our separate ways. I said it kindly. I was exhausted, and I just wanted it over.
What she said that night
Her response: "Yeah, I thought I could handle your project but I realised I couldn't. It got complicated and I didn't know what to do. So I just kept going."
I kept calm. But inside, I was furious. She knew. She knew the whole time. And instead of saying something, anything, she kept going. Kept collecting payments. Kept letting me carry all the stress. Kept pretending with complete confidence that she was on top of it.
If you know you can't do it, you say so. Even just "it's more complicated than I expected" is better than acting like everything is fine while someone else absorbs all the pressure. That's not a mistake. That's a choice.
And I kept thinking: how did I let this go on for so long? I knew early on. I just kept telling myself it would get better. That was my mistake, of course.
Then she pitched more work. "Maybe I can help with your social media. I usually make five posts a day." The same confidence. The same certainty. I had just seen her design work full of typos, misaligned layouts, and missing details, and her instinct was to offer to do more. I said: Just upload everything you have, and I'll handle the rest myself.
The ghost
Her one remaining task was to return the borrowed props to the supplier's shop. She booked a confirmed meeting with the shop owner to do exactly that.
And then she vanished.
No message, no call, nothing. The shop owner waited, messaged her repeatedly, and heard nothing back. Days passed.
I messaged to chase her down because the shop owner was waiting and the props still hadn't been returned. Not out of concern at that point. After everything, the ants, the burnt noodles, the party, the makeup in the car, the three messages about her good work attitude, the trust was completely gone.
Normally, I would have been concerned. Normally, I would have asked if she was okay. But after everything she had done, you just run out of that. Not cruelty. Just zero trust and zero energy left to give. I just needed the props returned.
And days later came the reply: "I had to attend a funeral. I was tired and needed to rest and recharge."
To be clear: a funeral is a completely legitimate reason to miss something. If she had sent one message, "I'm so sorry, I have a funeral today and can't make it," that would have been fine. That's the most understandable excuse she had in the entire time we worked together. But she didn't send a message. She just disappeared. For days. After booking a confirmed meeting with a third party who had nothing to do with our situation.
She had no problem confidently messaging about ants. About burnt noodles. About oversleeping. And when she finally had a genuinely valid reason, she said nothing. I was the one who had to apologise to the shop owner on her behalf. Again.
"She knew she couldn't deliver the whole time. She just kept pretending she could."
What she said when I confronted her
"The owner disturbed my rest. What's the big deal? I said I would return it. She can wait."
"I don't agree that you ended the contract early. Just because you're the one paying doesn't mean you can decide that."
I had nothing left to say to that. There's no point explaining yourself to someone who has already decided they're the victim. Save your energy.
"My work attitude is good. I respect the products. I will not accept baseless accusations."
I paid her the rate we had agreed. Nothing more. That final payment still felt like throwing money into a sink. But I paid it, documented everything, and moved on.
She had built an entire version of events in her head where everything was someone else's fault, and she was the one being treated unfairly. That level of delusion is something you can't argue with. There's no conversation to have. You just cut it and go.
And one more thing worth saying. Keep everything. Every message, every agreement, every conversation thread. Don't delete anything. Even if she doesn't read it or doesn't care, send the summary anyway. Email, message, whatever you have.
Write clearly what was agreed, what wasn't delivered, why it ended. Not for her. For the record. So if anything comes up later, you have a timestamp and a paper trail. If someone decides to rewrite the story later, your evidence is the only thing that tells the real one.
This whole thing is the biggest lesson I learned about keeping going too long. I was stupid. I should have stopped much earlier. And these felt like a punishment for myself.
What happened after
I posted a job listing. Over 500 applicants. I hired a new designer who was talented, fast, respectful, and actually wanted to do the work. It took almost no time.
That was the most clarifying moment of the whole experience. Months of managing her chaos, and the replacement took days to find. The thing I had been dreading turned out to be the easiest part.
The cost of keeping the wrong person isn't just money. It's the anxiety that builds slowly, the energy that drains without you noticing, the burnout that arrives when you've been carrying dead weight for too long and pretending it will get better. It won't. The moment you know, cut it.
