Picture a familiar scene. You're a seasoned freelancer who gets brought in by a design agency to help with a project.

Maybe someone on their usual team isn't available. Maybe they need someone with a specific skill set. Maybe you're leading a strategic piece of work and they need someone with the right chops to make it land.

You're not on their staff. You're not pretending to be. You're here because of how you work.

Or so you think.

Then, in the agency team's pre-client kickoff huddle, someone says...

"You don't need to mention to the client that you're freelance."

This doesn't happen as much as it used to but it still catches me off guard. I do think it might be a particularly British thing, this quiet discomfort with calling things what they are. No one wants to make a fuss.

But suddenly, you're being asked to play a role you didn't audition for.

You start wondering if you need to adapt your tone. Change your methods. Learn their preferred Miro board etiquette. You're still being yourself, technically, just lightly cosplaying as a full-timer.

And this is where things start to get murky.

Because now, instead of simply doing the work, you're navigating how to be in the room. How to speak. How to not say something that might expose you as an outsider.

At best, it leads to a bit of overthinking (which is a personal hobby of mine I've worked hard to shake off). At worst, it slows everything down. Particularly if you're leading the project. It means second-guessing whether you're meant to lead like you, or lead like them.

You end up asking yourself: how do they usually do kickoffs? Should I be following their slide deck template? What's the [insert agency name] way of doing this?

And in trying to fit that mould, you stop leaning into the most valuable thing: your own way of working - the speed, the confidence, the instinct.

Of course, the usual courtesies always apply. You're representing the agency, so you're polite, punctual, and professional. But it changes the dynamic just enough to take the edge off your confidence. You start second-guessing your instincts. You hold back slightly in meetings.

You get nervy over tea breaks with the client at the agency's studio.

"So, how long have you worked here?"

Cue avoidant smile. Something about "being around for a while". Maybe change the subject and offer to put the kettle on.

But this isn't just a social wrinkle. It can undermine genuine working relationships. Especially when you're doing strategic work, where those relationships are everything. They're the foundation of trust. And when you're constantly watching your step in case someone 'sniffs the rat', it's hard to build that foundation.

It’s like putting together a band. You’ve already got your core players (maybe a drummer and a bassist holding things down) but you bring in a lead guitarist because they’ve got something special. A distinctive tone. A way of playing that lifts the whole sound.

And then, for some reason, you ask them to play in a way that clips the wings of the very thing you brought them in for.

You're not switching instruments. You're centre stage. But the tone's not quite yours. The setup is unfamiliar. And you're quietly wondering when it's okay to add a little flair or if that's off the table now.

And it's only a subtle difference, but it makes a significant impact on how things sound, to how you play, and to the confidence you bring to the room.

This is why I love the alternative: when an agency brings you in as you are, with no pretence and no costume.

Just: "We've got someone we trust, they're available, and we think they're perfect for this."

Who's going to object to that?

That's how it's ended up working with one of my favourite Brighton-based agencies to collaborate with. The first project I did with them, I found the freedom a bit odd. I kept waiting for the part where I was told how to do things.

But last year, we worked together again on a strategic project for an airline and I realised we'd found a beautiful rhythm.

A little jazz band of three, really.

And like any good jazz band, it was a bit uncomfortable at first.

You’re listening more than you’re playing. Feeling each other out. Someone leads for a moment, then hangs back. One person changes the rhythm, and the others shift to meet it. You’re not following a strict process, you’re building a shared feel. One that evolves in real time.

But once it clicks, it clicks.

Everyone brings their own flair, their own beat. The freedom to play your own way: to respond in the moment, to experiment, to challenge... that’s what makes it sing.

It’s not about being the same. It’s about trusting that the differences can work together. That kind of individualism as a unit is rare. And when it lands, it’s magic.

They had their roles. I had mine. The client knew I wasn't on staff, but they also knew I was part of the team. No dodging. No fuss. Just clear expectations and good work.

I'll introduce myself as part of their team. Because I am. I'm working with you. I'm representing the project. But if someone asks directly, I won't dodge it. And I won't pretend I'm on staff.

We also don't filter our own conversations. We don't try to hide the fact we came together for this project and might go our separate ways when it's done. That's not a weakness. That's the model.

Yes, I had one of the agency's email addresses. Yes, I'm listed on their site as an associate. And sure, usually that term's a bit of a red flag, often code for "we'd like our team to appear a little bigger than it is."

But not in this case. They refer to us as "independent consultants, each a specialist in their field," and add: "These talented professionals come highly recommended - we've had the privilege of working with them many times. Let us know if you'd like an intro."

It's open. It's warm. It's generous.

And crucially, it makes everyone look good, not just the agency. And it works.

Clients like it when you curate a team just for them. It's not a red flag. It's a seal of intent.

So to agencies: if you want the best from your freelancer, don't try to hide the fact they're an outside expert. They're not a threat to your reputation; they're part of what makes you the right fit for this project. Finding good people is part of your value.

And to freelancers: you're not being awkward by encouraging a bit of honesty. Being upfront tends to lead to better work, clearer dynamics, and stronger long-term relationships... for you and for them.

Everyone wins when no one's pretending.

— Tom