They Wanted an Influencer. I Was Just a Designer.

It’s a tale as old as time…

You’re a young, bright-eyed designer eager to make a visual mark on the world. You’re hungry for work and opportunity. So much so, you’re willing to do unpaid labour for a promising start-up.

“It’ll be great,” you try to convince yourself.

You’ll gain real-world experience and an amazing project to add to your already growing portfolio.

Besides, you would be working with someone well-respected and established in your professional network. They wouldn’t take advantage of you, right?

Right?

One can only dream.

The reality is that there are estimated to be about “100,000 [to] 300,00 unpaid internships in Canada, and up to 750,000 if school-sanctioned co-ops and work placements are included” (UFCW), and many of them are being disadvantaged. Many are simply students, fresh college graduates, immigrants, and/ or people pivoting careers like I was. It is so easy for companies to look at these vulnerable individuals and extort unpaid labour under the guise of “opportunity,” “exposure,” or being “part of something exciting”.

I know I fell for it.

And at first, it did feel exciting. I was part of a small group of talented women working towards a mission-driven venture. I believed in the message. I believed in these women. I believed in its leader, especially. I believed in the culture and space we were trying to create for other women. But most importantly, I believed I was building something meaningful.

I was the only graphic designer. I created the logo in less than three days to prepare for such a shortly timed launch event. I built the early social media graphics and reels (even though it was not my forte). I stuck around when everyone silently disappeared. I gave ideas, time, and energy because I truly believed in something bigger than me.

Looking back, I wished I wasn’t so doe-eyed about the company. I wish I could have seen the red flags for what they were - red flags.

People leaving and being let go? Red flag.

Tight deadlines from the very beginning? Red flag.

High expectations and high levels of commitment for no pay? Red flag.

Constant edits? Red flag.

Late-night sessions just to fulfill said edits? Red flags.

The obvious mistakes that would arise from those late-night edits? Natural, but still a red flag.

No sense of direction? Red flag.

Zero structure? Red flag.

No clarity around roles or future compensation? Red flag.

The person who brought me onto the project knew my background was in design and web development. I was happy to create graphics and help with social content, but I didn’t realize they expected me to take on the entire social media role. And not just posting visuals - I'm talking about showing my face, talking on camera, and essentially becoming the brand's personality online. That was never part of the conversation when I was brought on.

During one meeting, I expressed that I was interested in content creation. I was already dabbling a bit in that world with my own branding and web development business, but it was - and still is not - my forte.

Trust me, I wish I were more comfortable on camera. I wish content creation came naturally to me (I think my own business would have taken off a long time ago if it did), but the reality is that I’m still learning. I’m still learning how to balance the act of creation and marketing my skills to the world. It’s not a skill that can be learned in a day, unfortunately.

So I was let go.

And it stung.

It’s one thing to be let go from a job, but to be let go from one that never even paid you in the first place. That was a new low for me.

I didn’t speak up at the time. I was too hurt. Too stunned. Too worried that maybe I wasn’t enough.

And then months later, I watched the brand re-emerge… with a whole new look, courtesy of a professional agency.

That’s when it hit me:

They always had the resources.

They just didn’t want to spend it on me.

And that infuriated me.

Had I been given the proper time (more than three days at least, sheesh) and been paid, I know I would have been able to deliver more than just a logo - I would have created a whole branding ecosystem. Strategy. Identity. Visual language. A brand that could grow and evolve, without needing to be redone a few months later.

And that’s the problem: I was just the person helping to get the ball rolling.

The stand-in. The placeholder. The one who made things look good enough to attract attention until someone else comes along with a bigger title or a more polished portfolio.

It’s a painful realization: that some people will never view you as a collaborator, but rather simply as a stepping stone to get to where they want to be. They use your creativity to generate momentum, to legitimize an idea, to present the illusion of a team — and once things start moving, they move on from you.

You’re left behind with deleted Slack threads, unacknowledged contributions, and the quiet ache of watching something you helped build grow without you.

It’s tempting to want to back down and question your self-worth, but these are the exact moments when you have to do the opposite.

Because the sad reality is this: companies, corporations, and people will continue to exploit the talents of creatives for as long as they’re allowed to, especially those who are young, eager, underpaid, or just trying to get their foot in the door. They will feed off of your energy until there’s nothing left.

These ways of working and viewing people will never disappear. Unfortunately, it’s capitalism at its finest - but as creatives, we don’t have to sell our souls to these companies.

We can choose differently.

We can choose to value our worth as not just creatives, but as human beings.

We can choose to honour our time, energy, and values.

We can choose to work for people who do not see us as mere placeholders, but rather as co-creators.

We can set boundaries.

We can continue creating.

We can continue defining our self-worth outside of the systems that try to exploit it.

We can choose ourselves.

So this is my plea to other young designers, developers, and creatives to never work for free. It’s not worth it.

You deserve to be paid for your talents.

You deserve credit for the foundations that you’ve built.

You deserve more than “experience” in exchange for your energy.

Just say no next time someone comes to you with a “great opportunity”, especially the ones that come with nothing but require everything from you, including your sanity.

I know I will.