I am a freelance writer. I am a freelance writer. My real estate license has expired, I no longer have access to real estate data bases, and can no more tell you about Flint real estate than Branson real estate. Why? Because I am a freelance writer!
I have to keep saying it because I don’t believe it and I think it sounds silly sometimes. When I was younger all I wanted was to be a writer. I dreamed of having a pen name and a byline. I think what makes it tough to wrap my brain around is that it never really “happened.” Knowwhatimean? It’s like – no one ever said, ‘”Ok you’re hired. Fill out this paperwork, choose a pen name and get to work.” I knew without question I was a video store clerk because I had a name tag that said so. I completed paperwork, got my hand shaken, and was told “You’re hired, Welcome aboard,” when I started selling eyeglasses and managing the optical office. People came in looking for the frame buyer and they were directed to me. I had no identity crisis issues. But being a freelancer happened so gradually. My pen name just evolved and one day I found myself not just dabbling writing web content for fun, but receiving regular payments into my PayPal account – for stuff I had written.
When did this happen? Who hired me? Where’s my paperwork? My “welcome?” My name tag?
Duh! Every time I do work for a new client, I fill out paperwork. I get many greetings, welcomes, and thank yous. I guess I could make myself a name tag if I’m so unimaginative that I cannot process the fact otherwise. But that shouldn’t be the case. Creativity and imagination are prerequisites for my job. That’s why I hired me.
Whooooah. I hired me. I’m my boss. The trouble I’m having wrapping my brain about my new awesome situation is probably only 50% accepting the fact that I have achieved a major life goal, and another 50% dealing with being my own boss. I believed hard core in my 20s that the only way to really be appreciated and rewarded for the good work you do comes from working for yourself. Being an entrepreneur. I lost track of that in my late 30s when I became a parent, gave up my consulting business and all my conscious thoughts and efforts went into parenthood. But apparently I had embedded that pretty deep in my subconscious and it kept plugging away, even when I was distracted for a bit. So now here I am, in possession of what I always wanted – and there’s nobody to blame but me. If the money’s not right it’s not because I didn’t get the raise I deserved, it is because as the employee I didn’t do the work or as the boss I didn’t manage the business right.
The more time that passes away from real estate, the less I identify with it and all my other jobs – and the more comfortable I am saying “I’m a freelance writer.” I suppose more confidence will come when my income comes more in par with previous earnings at other jobs, but that’s not going to reach its full potential until I handle these other issues. I’ve been having little epiphanies for the last month or so about acknowledging my successes and taking myself seriously as a business. I wonder if anybody else has experienced this or can identify with the phases I’m facing? Who ever imagined that achieving big life goals would be so difficult to accept?