I relearned something about collaboration this week.

When you build something yourself, really build it, there is a funny thing that can happen when someone with a bigger title, bigger company or longer résumé wants to collaborate with you.

You make room.

You loosen your grip on the steering wheel.

You assume they see something you don’t.

You tell yourself this is what collaboration looks like.

And sometimes it is.

Other times, apparently, they gag you and throw you in the trunk.

I wish I were being more metaphorical.

Recently, I entered into a collaboration around a creative project I had already spent a lot of time developing.

The bones were there.

The point of view was there.

Most importantly, it knew what it was.

I was genuinely excited. I wanted their perspective and ideas. I thought we could take something already good and make it better together.

So I handed over the keys.

There were no real working sessions. No throwing ideas around together.

Just silence.

Then one day the trunk opened.

Friends.

I did not recognize the car.

Someone had repainted it, changed the interior, programmed a new destination into the GPS and moved our stuff into the glove box.

We weren’t passengers in our own project.

We were in the trunk.

And suddenly I had one of those wonderfully clarifying moments when something is so spectacularly wrong that you stop second guessing yourself.

No.

Put it back.

A younger version of me might have wondered if I was missing something.

Maybe the bigger company knew better.

Maybe the impressive title meant I should trust the process.

Maybe there was some brilliant strategy happening three floors above my comprehension.

Maybe I should just sit quietly in the trunk and appreciate the complimentary transportation.

Age Has Its Benefits

I know what I’m looking at now.

More importantly, I know what I’ve built.

Eventually, the collaboration ended.

Quite civilly, actually.

The explanation was that we had discovered we had two different visions.

Except for one tiny detail.

We hadn’t collaborated our way into two different visions.

They developed a second vision without us.

We didn’t disagree about where to drive.

WE WERE STILL IN THE TRUNK.

Anyway.

Door opened.

Tuck and roll.

And Then Something Unexpected Happened

We took the project back, filled the holes and it got better.

Much better.

Without all the noise, I could hear the original idea again.

The empty spaces became room for better stories, better ideas and things that actually belonged.

And that was the lesson I needed.

Not every opportunity makes your work bigger.

Not every impressive person knows more about your work than you do.

Experience deserves respect.

But so does your own.

Good collaborators challenge you, listen to you and bring something you couldn’t have brought yourself.

They don’t require you to disappear so they can shine.

Collaboration is not surrender.

You can hand someone the keys without signing over the title.

And if you ever find yourself pounding on the inside of the trunk while somebody drives your work somewhere it was never supposed to go, make some noise.

Take it back.

Check it for dents.

Get behind the wheel.

And if necessary, open the passenger door at about 50 miles an hour.

Tuck and roll.

The city is that way.