Why Freelance “Freedom” Is Actually Exile in Disguise

Oh, you’re so brave, starting your own thing! No, seriously, I’m not. I would rather be working for "the man" than pretending this freelance life is all sunshine and roses. I didn’t choose this path. I didn’t wake up one day and think, "You know what? I’d love to run my own business and lose all job security, pensions, and health benefits!" Nope. That was not on my vision board. I didn’t even have a choice. This was forced upon me like a surprise birthday party I didn’t ask for and definitely didn’t want.

The truth? Freelance life wasn’t a dream I chased. It wasn’t a big bold decision that I made after weighing the pros and cons. It wasn’t some “amazing opportunity” handed to me on a silver platter. It was a reality check, a survival mode, a forced leap into the abyss because the workforce wasn’t going to let me in anymore. And you know what? That’s fine. I’m surviving. But let’s stop pretending that this is some magical “opportunity” just because I’m a woman who’s trying to make it all work.

I’m getting a bit fed up with the way this whole “freedom” thing is sold to us. I went to an event recently where someone said, “Well, as women, when we return from maternity leave, we have this amazing opportunity to reshape our lives - men don’t always get that.” Uh, no. That’s a hard pass from me. You want me to believe that having to leave my career and start from scratch is some kind of "opportunity"? No, no, no. It’s a hard reality of being a mum. It’s a punch to the gut wrapped in a glittery package, and I’m just not buying it anymore.

It’s been framed as a “gift” , this freedom that women get when they leave the workforce. But trust me, the reality is far more bleak. The way people talk about it makes it sound like it’s some blissful path to success and happiness. When really, it’s like being exiled, but with a nice bow on top. Freelance life, start-up life, whatever you want to call it, there’s no security. No sick pay, no support, no pension, no team. What you get is risk. And that risk comes because the workforce pushed us out.

Yet, people still celebrate this as some grand opportunity. The only thing that’s grand is how unhelpful these “opportunities” are in the real world. No one’s handing you a manual on how to survive the emotional rollercoaster of trying to balance a business with the overwhelming, never-ending job of motherhood. No one’s here to tell you about the fear of your next pay check or how isolating it feels to work from home all day with no one to bounce ideas off of, except maybe a toddler who’s just discovered glitter glue.

But here’s what’s really grinding my gears: why is it so acceptable for society to paint freelancing as some magical opportunity when the reality is, it’s just exile in disguise? It’s risky as hell. And it’s survival. A survival mode we’re pushed into because the workforce decided we weren’t worth the hassle anymore.

Now, I’ve been told by people that I should just be grateful for what I’ve had. "You’ve had time with your kids, you’ve made some money, so stop complaining." And apparently, that means I should stop wanting more. Stop wanting a career. Stop wanting financial security. Stop wanting to succeed. Just stop wanting.

Do you know what? I’m sick of it. Why is it so terrible for women to want more? Why does wanting to be successful, to be proud of our careers, or to be compensated for our work make us greedy, selfish, or ungrateful? I want to provide for my kids, to give them the security I didn’t (feel I) have growing up. I want to feel proud of my work, to achieve something meaningful, and, shocker, I want to be compensated for it.

I want to be clear: I’m not against freelancing, starting your own business, or going after the job you want. If that’s your choice, more power to you. But let’s stop pretending that losing our jobs, being pushed out of careers, or being forced to “pivot” is some grand opportunity. Losing your job is not an opportunity, it’s a harsh reality. And as much as I wish I had chosen the freelancing life, if I had wanted to, I would’ve done it. And you know what? Men can do it too. If a man wants something, he will get it. There’s no question. So why are we told we should be grateful when the same opportunities are handed to us in a pile of disappointment?