UX Gaps

 Missing out on the EdTech opportunity hit harder than you expected. The work would have been a good fit, and you were ready, but the lack of testimonials stopped things before they could even get started. You realized that waiting for opportunities to quietly land in your inbox wasn’t enough—you needed to be intentional. You reached out to your network, sharing that you were open to freelance work focused on EdTech and mobile projects. You followed up with people you trusted, showed up to meetings with clarity about what you were looking for, and positioned yourself to be seen. A few weeks later, it worked. A stakeholder at a local community college contacted you. They were preparing for the upcoming semester and adding a new industry track. They needed updates to their mobile app, new courses added, and a simple onboarding flow for students. Their internal designer, who usually handled these projects, was on vacation, and the timeline was tight. You didn’t know the stakeholder ...

 It’s been a couple of weeks since you wrapped up that project with the other designer. You’re back to sharing insights in UX communities, and staying active in your monthly meetup—just keeping the momentum going and putting your work out there. Then, out of the blue, a message lands in your inbox. A small ed-tech startup noticed something you commented on and wants to see if you can help with a project. It’s exciting—you weren’t looking for work—but there’s a catch: they want social proof . A testimonial from a previous client. You freeze. You’ve done real freelance projects, but you’ve never asked for testimonials. Everything in your portfolio looks like practice work or personal experiments. Without social proof, you know the client likely won’t move forward. You reach out to one or two of your friends from the UX meetup, hoping someone might be able to help. Only one of them responds: “Hey, thanks for reaching out! You’re a really great person, and we always have such interes...

That realization stayed with you longer than you expected. You had been so excited about working with another designer—someone in your niche whose work you genuinely admired. You imagined an equal partnership, a flow of ideas, a chance to learn from someone more experienced. But the reality wore you down. Instead of the dialogue and shared effort you hoped for, you found yourself taking on the tasks no one else wanted. Your ideas were dismissed before they were even considered. The project itself aligned with your skills, but the experience left you drained, frustrated, and far from what you had envisioned. As you reflect on it now, one question keeps resurfacing: Are you the kind of designer others would choose to work with? The answer isn’t obvious. You realize now that, even though you're new, showing that you take your work seriously and contribute thoughtfully is what makes others want to collaborate with you. During that project, you didn’t assert yourself when things felt un...