Plenty of us dream of being our own boss, but freelancing can come with its own challenges. Here, writer Jess Carter explains how a surprise redundancy led to a steep learning curve into self-employment.

I always hated my commute: a should-have-been 30-minute journey that took an hour and 20 minutes (thanks, rush hour) to spend the day in a fluorescently lit office with ceiling tiles, stained carpets and bad coffee. Still, I loved my job. I was a magazine editor and, for most of my six-year stint, worked with a close-knit team that I really got on with. Being among other human beings in the office – which was big enough that there was always a hum of activity, but small enough that everyone knew each other – was preferable to sitting in my chilly basement flat alone. So, I put up with the peripheral inconveniences, as we all do. But one Friday evening in March, I switched off my computer, deposited my mug in the dishwasher and gestured my goodbyes to other stragglers, not knowing that it was for the last time. Because on the other side of the weekend, after we'd all been told by Boris to work from home due to the pandemic, I got a phone call to let me know I had been made redundant.

The idea of going freelance had danced around my mind for a couple of years – who doesn’t use their commute to fantasise about being their own boss sometimes? – but financial anxieties had always stopped the idea from maturing into a plan. I felt like packing in a stable job to live week-to-week, constantly scouting for work and never knowing where my next financial injection was coming from would be senseless. In short: I was too scared to make the jump. But now I didn’t need to jump: I’d been pushed. While the situation wasn’t ideal, it sort of also was. Heady highs and bleak lows punctuated the rugged terrain of those initial few months of being self-employed. Flashes of excitement and optimism new work brought were followed by southward tumbles into pits of apathy and self-deprecation. But mostly I felt – for the first time in a while – that I was in control. Ironically, at a time of global chaos, I was finally calm. I was getting more sleep. My skin had lost its subtle grey hue. My anxiety appeared to be taking a holiday. Why didn't I do this years ago?

My answer came as the honeymoon period muddied into real life and I realised that there was another side to the coin of having escaped commutes, bosses and office politics. I began noticing snags as I worked my way through the weeks and months alone. My confidence started to wither and I began to doubt my capabilities. Those micro-endorsements that colleagues had brought – nods of agreement in a meeting, someone taking a mild interest in what I’m working on as they pass my desk, being asked for advice – are apparently more noticeable when they're not there anymore. A lack of interaction is something that so many of us have struggled with this year, regardless of our working situation. But I found that being the only employee of my new business was particularly isolating. Wins have less sparkle about them when there's nobody to celebrate with, and frustrations permeate your mind like toxins when venting to a colleague isn't an option. I began to dread the days my boyfriend went into the office, regardless of the fact that we worked in different rooms and could probably count on our hands the number of words we exchanged during working hours. My days quickly became flabby and unstructured. Breaks of any kind fell off my radar and I’d easily find myself feeling light-headed come 5pm, realising I hadn’t eaten yet that day. Work bled into personal time.

But after a few months of that, I'm happy to say I've found a rhythm. I've taken notice of what I need for my working day to be positive and productive. That's the beauty of working alone – the framework can be built around you, not the other way around. I'm happier at work now than I have been in ages. I'm paying my bills and have so much more time for myself. Going self-employed might well be the best decision you ever made. Or were forced into.

Here's what I've learnt about how to make working alone work for you...

Immerse yourself

Since going freelance I've become a freelance obsessive. I listen to podcasts about it. I read articles about it. I sign up to newsletters about it. I watch webinars about it. I follow others doing it on Twitter and Instagram. And I would urge you to do the same. Not only will you pick up tips and inspiration from people who have done some serious mileage in your shoes, but you'll also find that all-important solidarity.

Recruit honorary colleagues

Curate WhatsApp groups of friends who are working alone or strike up conversations online with people in your industry to replace office interactions, run ideas past and generally talk nonsense with. At first, I'd feel guilty about spending time on my phone, but then I noticed how many Slacks my boyfriend was always getting (and they certainly weren’t all about company business!). I realised that talking to colleagues – real or honorary – is a significant element of the working day.

Tailor your day

The way I see it, the nine-to-five day – or whatever variant of it that you're used to following – is an outdated and arbitrary construct. As is the five-day week. I cannot tell you how much better I feel for getting up 90 minutes later every day, spending 20 minutes with a yoga video before I open my laptop, and not stressing about making appointments on weekdays. Structure is to be embraced, but make it one that works for both your circadian rhythm and your lifestyle.

Break it up

Take breaks. Take many, regular breaks. We – as human beings and not high-functioning robots – are not meant to concentrate on one thing for eight hours a day. Hence the work-time doomscrolling, getting sucked into the TV show that's on for "background noise" and descents into Wikipedia rabbit holes. When you work alone it's easy to forget to stand up and rub those fuzzy, blinking eyes every now and again. Set an alarm on your phone and make sure that you actually take that tea break.

Be a goalkeeper

There's a distinct lack of external encouragement when you're working by yourself at your kitchen table/on your sofa/in your bed. Setting yourself some goals can help. Just make sure they're reasonable: I'm talking replying to those emails you've been putting off, signing up to that newsletter, sending that pitch – as well as making your millions.

Take the time

Have a day with no work? I used to indulge in a bit of freaking out and existential dread, but now I much prefer reading a book, doing my nails and watching Nigella reruns. Like a wise freelance friend told me, when you can take the time, take the time. Who knows how busy you'll be next week?