When Momentum Brings the Wrong Opportunity

 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 personally, but you respected their work and were excited about the project. The contract was clear and short-term: the first milestone covered half the work, with payment released afterward.

The kickoff went smoothly. You reviewed the existing app, confirmed the goals, and started updating the flows. The first week went fine. Then things began to slip. Approvals were delayed, questions arose that you couldn’t answer, and the internal designer’s files and guidance weren’t accessible. When you asked for access, the stakeholder said they’d try to reach the designer, but after a few days, nothing came through. The stakeholder then asked you to move forward, framing it as temporary: just use your best judgment, we can refine later.

At first, you tried to make it work, but the gaps were significant. You weren’t just guessing about colors or spacing—these were onboarding exceptions for different student types, unpublished modules, and screens relying on content that hadn’t been finalized. Producing work without that context could mislead students, break the experience, or create extra work for the internal designer when they returned. You paused.

You scheduled a call with the stakeholder to try to get some answers. When they picked up, you could hear the pressure in their voice.

“I know the semester launch is coming,” the stakeholder said. “Can you move forward and fill in the gaps? We really need to keep things moving.”

You took a deep breath. “I understand the urgency,” you replied carefully. “But without the missing context from the designer, I can’t confidently make the decisions required to complete this work.”

There was a long pause. The stakeholder’s tone hardened. “I get that, but we hired you to do this job. You knew the scope when you signed the contract. Now you’re telling me you can’t fulfill your end. If you can’t move forward, we’re going to have to terminate this contract. We’ll pay you for the work you’ve completed correctly, but that’s it.”

A tight knot formed in your stomach. This wasn’t just about losing money. If you tried to guess and produce work that was incomplete or inaccurate, the internal designer would have to fix it when they returned. That designer would see the mistakes as your responsibility. Your reputation could suffer, and because this stakeholder was well-connected, word could spread. You might not get another opportunity from them, and the ripple effect could affect other potential clients in your network.

You paused, weighing the consequences. The money you hadn’t earned was frustrating, but the greater risk was producing work you couldn’t stand behind, which would damage your professional relationships.

“I understand,” you said slowly. “I’m willing to have you review what’s been completed and adjust the payment accordingly. Continuing blindly isn’t responsible—for me, for the users, or for the project overall.”

The stakeholder exhaled, frustrated. “It’s not ideal, but… we’ll review what you’ve delivered and settle payment based on that. I can’t promise we’ll have opportunities to work together again, given how this played out, but I hope you understand the position this puts us in.”

You did. You also understood that walking away was a loss, but one you could live with. The work would be reverted to the internal designer upon their return. You didn’t compromise your integrity, avoided producing low-quality work, and protected yourself from future issues—even if it meant this contract ended badly and some connections were lost.

The lesson was clear: momentum can bring opportunities quickly, but discernment determines whether they’re worth pursuing. Saying no, even in the middle of a project, isn’t failure—it’s responsibility. It’s about protecting the work, the users, and yourself. And the next time you take on a project, you’ll know exactly what you need before signing on.

Would you have followed the same path as the designer, or found a way to work through the contract? Share your thoughts on our Substack channel.  Join the conversation. 

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