The next week, one of the reporters I was editing was struggling against me. She refused to take any of my edits and sent me three drafts in a row that were almost identically incomplete. Finally, after I pushed her yet again to add more narration, she emailed me suggesting that maybe this relationship wasn’t working—maybe she needed to be reassigned to a different editor. As soon as I read the email, I went into full triggered mode. I’m not good at my job, I messed up, oh my God, I’m a mess, if I were a kinder, better person she wouldn’t feel like she hates me, oh God. My immediate instinct
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