From Fulltime to Freelance: Carving Out Space for Fulfillment
Welcome to another personal story written by one of our Staff Writers at Homework Help Global. In this personal story, our Writer discusses her personal, academic, and freelance journey and what she learned along the way.
In the past 3 weeks I have finally embraced the title: writer. The term seems allusive; perhaps because it suggests a level of insanity required to pursue an art as a viable career option, or maybe because this is the first time I have positioned myself as a creative type. Now, I have claimed the title and I’m settling in. Prior to this decision, life lacked fulfillment and while I strive everyday to attain a sense of meaning in this world, I feel that my choice to become a writer has brought me one step closer to realizing joy.
Just this week during a work break (I get to take those now!) I was listening to writer, Elizabeth Gilbert, author of Eat, Pray, Love giving a TED Talk, discussing the elusive nature of creativity. While I will not go into detail about her talk (you can watch it here) what stood out to me was that she, regardless of her fame, continues to experience fear. And I think that’s where my story begins.
Fear and Pride
As a high school student I stayed within the bounds. At the risk of tooting my own horn, I will admit that I aced my tests and got good grades. I knew what my teachers expected and I fed them just that. Not only was I academically inclined, I also participated in everything from the school soccer team to the peer helping group. It was no surprise that I graduated 8th in my class. I would be lying if I denied that this gave me a sense of pride, false, as it may have been. I began to construct a life around what others expected of me rather than what I wanted myself. Goodness knows there is a hefty difference between pride and joy, although they are often found side by side in sentences.
Post-Graduation: Towards a Path of Discontent
Fear and pride bound me to familiar patterns.
After graduation I moved on to an arts degree, and continued my path of discontent. Certainly, I enjoyed academia; it kept my fear at bay because it was predictable. Just like in high school I studied and spewed out knowledge using the required format (APA, MLA, PowerPoint, etc.). My professors liked me and I maintained Dean’s list standing. I focused my energy on languages, pursuing a major in Sociology and a Minor in French. I took courses like Intro to Spanish and Greek Mythology to fill in the gaps.
By the time I was entering my 3rd year I realized something had to change. I was going through the motions, gaining a degree that meant nothing to me. Sure, I was absorbing some valuable information and gathering clues about the surrounding world, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was missing some deeper meaning.
This niggling sensation told me I was destined for more and that the arts degree was holding me back.
So I dropped out. My pride was hard to swallow. And the fear was even worse.
Relative Freedom
I moved to another province where I became a Nanny. By now, I started to come of age. I was somewhat behind in that department. No longer restricted by the boundaries of the education system, I began to flourish. I met new friends and had new experiences. To appease my deeply ingrained fears, I remained enrolled in school, taking a few additional Sociology classes with the intent of completing my undergrad.
Suddenly, the world became overwhelming, freedom got the best of me, and I needed a plan.
A Return to the Ivory Tower
A short two years later, I found myself back in University full-time to study social work. These years were challenging for me as the social work curriculum encouraged me to step outside my comfort zone and think in ways I never had before. For the first time in my academic career I felt excited. Not only that, I felt like I had something to say and the words to say it. The program scratched a creative itch in my psyche. The niggle and the fear went away for a while.
After graduating with a BSW I began working at a shelter for homeless youth. I was passionate about this work and I gave it my all. I poured all of my emotional energy into work, hardly preserving anything or living life outside of the grind.
If you know anything about the field of social work, you may understand that it is a high burnout field. After 2 years on the front lines, I was ready to call it quits.
Fearing idle time, and too proud to admit that I was hurting, I immediately moved to Toronto to pursue a Masters in Social Work.
6 months later I dropped out.
Returning to my hometown from the big city was the last thing I wanted to do, but it was the best decision I made. Sometimes fear is preventative.
Finally I clued in that it was time to take a break from the work that had so drained me. I briefly worked at a café before my pride rose up again and compelled me to apply for work at a group home. Various short-lived stints in the social work field and one assault later, my light dulled again. It was time to explore other career paths entirely.
Direction
Sitting in front of my computer one evening, I began to dig deep for my life’s intent. I remembered that as a child I loved to write. I would keep journals upon journals of stories and poems. I would hide in my closet scribbling about the day’s events. I created characters and they spoke through me.
What I realized then was that I had been operating my life through a lens of fear and pride, and letting my ego get the best of me while always hoping to live up to other people’s expectations. At the same time I was depriving myself of the joy I needed to live a happy and fulfilled life. It was at this time that I decided to foray into the world of freelance writing.
Starting a new career from scratch is no easy task. Through research I gleaned that in order to be financially stable as a freelancer, you had to have a source of stable income. While pitching to magazines is an ongoing effort, it is difficult to rely on it as a stable income course, especially as a newbie to professional writing. Basically there was no way to make a living on magazine pitches alone so I had to find a side hustle.
I went in search for a reliable way to make an income on the web. Fortunately, I managed to nail down an opportunity relatively quickly with a company that provides support to university students and ghostwriting services. This was a perfect fit for me. I am able to draw on my years of expertise in the academic world and use those skills to help people.
On top of creating a living for myself as a writer I have managed to have some of my own work published in online feminist and social justice magazines, which is nothing short of thrilling for me.
While I used to wake up tired, depressed and reliant on coffee and anti-depressants to get through my days, I now wake up to a cup of tea, my cat and beautiful plants in my home office. I set my own hours and I can do the creative work my heart desires. I continue to provide a voice for marginalized individuals through my social justice oriented projects.
Recently, when speaking with a friend, she told me that she felt that freelance fit my personality well, “I’m a paper-pusher, and you’re not.” She said. I smiled. She was right.
Of late there was a time when fear and pride got the best of me and I was tempted to delve back into the world of social work, because I truly believe in the work,, but my partner kindly reminded me, “you don’t really like jobs.” Now as a self-proclaimed creative-type and weirdo, I embrace my innate desire for change. Thanks to my freelance lifestyle it is no longer something I have to fear.
If you’ve ever felt that niggle to do something differently, I would encourage you to explore the Internet. It is a vast arena of opportunity for those with a creative edge. Find and follow other freelance writers for inspiration, read books by writers, have lots of baths with organically scented candles and don’t let fear and pride get the best of you.
