Ey ! 

I was running late.

Not the "oops, I should hurry" kind of late.

The sweat forming on my back, fingers gripping the steering wheel, every second stretching into frustration kind of late. 

The kind where you start blaming everything—

the slow driver in front of you, the narrow side roads in this centuries-old city, the popup construction sites, the universe, even yourself for not leaving five minutes earlier.

And then I saw it.

A half-finished house on the side of the road, scaffolding hugging its exposed concrete walls.

Piles of sand and hollow blocks were dumped— not beside the road, not neatly stacked away— but right on the pavement, eating up almost a fifth of the already-narrow road.

I clenched my jaw. There was a tricycle on the opposite lane.

There was no other way through. Reversing wasn't an option, and the only choice was to squeeze past, hugging the very edge of the road.

I inched forward, barely breathing, my side mirror clearing a wooden post by millimeters. Almost there—

SCRAAAAAAPE.

With a sickening screech, the sound ripped through the air like nails on a chalkboard.

I froze. 

My hands clenched into fists on the steering wheel. I already knew—I didn't even need to look.

Still, I needed to move forward, and only parked when I finally arrived at my meeting, and got out.

There it was. A fresh, deep scratch, running along the side of my car like an uninvited signature.

For a moment, anger surged through me.

Gastos na naman, uggh.

I wanted to blame the workers, blame whoever decided this was a good place to unload construction materials, blame the whole situation.

But then after some time spent fuming,I actually... chuckled.

Not because it was funny. But what else could I do? Ultimately, ako pa din naman may kasalanan.

I ran my fingers over the scratch, feeling the rough edge where paint had been stripped away. And then I realized, well…

This wasn't my first dent or scratch. And it sure as heck wouldn't be my last.

I had spent so much time trying to avoid damage, trying to navigate everything perfectly, trying to keep everything pristine — but life doesn't work like that.

Sometimes, the road is too narrow.

Sometimes, things get dumped in your way that you can't control.

And sometimes, you get scratched up just trying to move forward.

I looked at the mark one last time, exhaled, and thought:

Well, guess I'm officially a Dent Collector now.

And maybe that's not such a bad thing.

Because dents mean I went through something.

Scratches mean I didn't stay stuck.

And in the end, I'd rather have a car with dents than a life spent parked in fear of getting one.

As freelancers, we're all Dent Collectors in our own way.

Those client rejections? Dents.

The projects that fell through at the last minute? Scratches.

The times we undercharged or overcommitted? Deep gouges in our professional paintwork.

But here's the truth: every successful freelancer I know carries these marks. 

I see them on you as well, . 

Not as badges of shame, but as evidence of your resilience. 

You didn't quit when the road narrowed. 

You didn't reverse course when obstacles appeared. 

You didn’t go back from where you came. 

No, you pushed forward, collected these dents, and kept moving.

I've seen too many talented people give up on freelancing at the first, second, or even third scratch. They expected a perfect, smooth journey. But this path we've chosen isn't about avoiding damage— it's about continuing despite it.

The clients who truly value your work don't mind seeing a few professional dents. In fact, those marks often tell the story of how you learned, adapted, and became better at what you do.

So the next time a client leaves you with a dent, 

or a project scratches your confidence, 

or a rejection scrapes your ego – run your finger along that mark and remember:

You're collecting experiences, not failures.

You're gathering stories, not scars.

You're building resilience, not resentment.

Because in freelancing, just like in life, the only way to avoid dents is to never leave the garage.

And what good is a perfectly dent-free car or career if it never goes anywhere?

What's your latest dent, ? I'd love to hear about it.

Shoden "The Dent Collector" San

🎉

Pst. Don't Keep Me A Secret. refer this newsletter to your freelancer friends. This REALLY REALLY helps me a lot, thanks!