Work news

This year, I've been self-employed for 12 years.

I'll be frank: it hasn't been going well recently.

For a decade, it was fun. I have always loved writing and editing and, from 2011 until 2021, I got to do what I love, every day, on my own terms. I worked with loads of really excellent people: some long-term regular clients, a good bit of agency work and the odd one-off job to keep things spicy.

During 2021, however, work started to disappear.

Companies and agencies with whom I'd worked for years were suddenly navigating post-lockdown staffing shakeups. Cost-of-living-related budget cuts.

Outsourcing of writing and editing work —in other words, the core of my business— was either deprioritised completely, moved in-house or, worse, starting to be done through AI.

I found myself working harder to sell the idea of what I do, and to fulfill people's business needs.

A slog

Occasionally, I would find new clients, but they tended to be smaller organisations and one-person startups rather than established businesses or agencies. Unfortunately, this meant many didn't know exactly what they wanted. More than once, I found myself eagerly commissioned, only to have people apologetically change their minds once I’d helped them identify their actual needs.

Even when new contacts did decide to move forward with writing work, I found I no longer had the energy to engage in the long, enthusiastic planning discussions that often come with these kinds of clients.

Freelancing started to feel like a slog and I started to feel like a fraud. Did I want the work or not?

As my confidence and motivation spiralled, I started to find it impossible to "hit the ground running" with anyone new.

So... I didn't.

By the end of 2022 I had just about managed not to burn any bridges, but I was barely working at all. I was living off one or two tiny pieces of writing a month, and dipping into my savings more and more.

An epiphany

In March 2023, I had Covid and everything seemed to come to a head. The irony of lying in bed, sweating and fretting about not being able to work... whilst knowing that, realistically, I hadn't had any significant work for a while, burrowed itself into my delirious mind and I had what felt like a wild epiphany:

"Just… stop."

So here's the big news: I did!

And… breathe

So that's what's happened. I have taken a break from “work” by, er… getting a job.

Now, I am a legal secretary. Three days a week, I take a 15 minute walk to an old-fashioned office, where I do a very busy 9-5, and walk home again. And I don't have to think about it until the next day.

It's great.

I'm working on the social and other soft skills that have taken a back seat for a decade. I'm enjoying repetitive, process driven work. I'm walking three miles a day. And (curveball) I'm learning loads about conveyancing. Eat your heart out, 4Homes!

In my days off, I'm writing for myself, and for a couple of long term freelance clients. But I'm not worrying about it any more, so —hallelujah— it has become fun again.

I would go as far as to say that, work-wise, I'm happier than I have been in years.

I've no idea how long this will last, or what will happen next, but you know what? I don't mind. It feels like this is 100% where I am meant to be right now. I listened to my gut and I'm glad I did.