This week marks a year of blogs – 52 entries in total. Somehow through the madness of going self-employed I’ve managed to write one every week. Or more truthfully, there is a blog for every week of the year – sometimes these were written once a week and sometimes they were written a sudden guilt-driven writing spurt over evenings/weekends to catch up after a long gap!

Why do I write?

I started because I thought it would make an interesting story. I realised early on what a huge adventure I was starting and that there were naturally going to be highs and lows along the way. It also felt unique at the time – I didn’t know anyone else who had written about their experience because I was so new into the freelancing space myself. I realised in capturing what I learnt along the way, being honest about any mistakes and sharing my experience might even help someone else. When I first went freelance, I was so fired up about exploring the possibilities of a different way of working I knew that other people would be too.

I also really enjoy writing – from reports and training materials to poetry, there’s something about getting a message across, suiting your audiences and making an impact that I’ve always loved. I realised writing a blog would be a great way of channelling that. What would become of it, I was less sure. While I liked the idea of it going public and claiming it under my own name, there’s a lot to be nervous about – a fear of judgement, feeling a bit vulnerable and exposed, worries of over-sharing and losing trust with clients and generally if it would change my professional image.

What’s the impact?

Because I’ve lacked the bravery until recently the impact circle is small. But what’s interesting is how big that impact has been on those few people. My immediate family have at least some idea of what I’m doing day-to-day, and probably more than they’ve ever had since I first started working. I’ve shared this blog with trusted friends who are considering freelance – and some have even made the jump. Now I definitely can’t claim it was because of me but I still remember the power of finding out it was possible, of realising I knew someone who had made it work, who seemed similar enough to me that maybe I had a chance too. And I hope that’s what I gave – that extra nudge they needed. I’ve also had solidarity and lots of laughs with a freelance network over some of my content – canvassing opinion for covering all letters of the alphabet on “the A-Z of freelancer costs” is definitely one of my favourite Slack threads.

Unexpectedly through is the reflective learning. When I started out, I think I was writing for others, and now it’s morphed into something different. I had a decision point recently as the hosting etc was up for renewal, and it made me realise how much I didn’t want to draw a line under it. That each week it encourages/forces me to reflect on something new and attempt to capture what’s going on, what I’ve learnt or what’s next. Yes, I could do this in a diary, private journal, Word document, but there’s something about the public accountability that works well. Finding the time to review and plan has been nearly impossible at times, and I’ve been frustrated at my own ambition for setting myself a goal of writing weekly (how hard can that be I thought?!!), and my stubbornness for not letting it go.

What’s next?

I think this blog is here to stay for the next year, I mean the hosting is paid for, so I might as well… But in all seriously, I’ve got so much out of it, I’d like to try and keep it. I might try to be kinder to myself and not worry so much about a weekly timetable, or at least worry less about quality and length when time is tight. It’s already really interesting to read back on where I was at work-wise and headspace-wise in those early few months of freelancing – it makes me realise how different it feels now. The idea of capturing another year is exciting – I’m more confident and positive that a future in freelancing so year 2 is the next stage in my journey.

Photo by Florian Klauer on Unsplash