When you are self-employed, there's no such thing as 'free time'

Ever since I started working for myself in the summer of last year, I’ve faced one persistent assumption: that I must have loads of time to spare.

For many, stringing together a number of projects can seem like an appealing way to redress the work-life balance. But there’s a pernicious myth about “family-friendly freelancing” that feeds on the hackneyed characterisation that we’re all busy having coffee whilst the rest of the world gets to work.

I’ll let you into a little secret: I have as much time in the day as anyone else (24 hours, the last time I checked) but from the moment I became my own boss, every single second of it comes at a cost. Much like the proverbial lunch, for a freelancer there is no such thing as “free” time.

When I left my last job, I was ready to ditch the commutes, the long office hours and bone-crushing ennui of overblown meetings. I’ll admit that I had fantasies of this new Instagram-filtered life of morning yoga and writing in the sunshine. Then the chill set in. Never before had the value of my own time been brought into such sharp focus as when I was staring down the barrel of my next rent payment with no monthly salary.

I work in an industry that depends on my ability to use the phrase “strategic alignment” without my eyes rolling to the back of my head. I have skills that people generally find useful but can’t always quantify, like communications and innovation. This makes me easy pickings for a spot of business advice, which is superb when you’re looking for work, but the problem is that it’s often requested for free.

It’s a debilitating problem if you’re a yes-woman, like me. I find it impossible to say no to polite requests from people who have something terribly interesting they need help with. It’s always casually proceeded by the vague nod that it “might lead to work down the line”– such a potent mix of teasing allure and little substance. “Might” doesn’t put a roof over my head, sadly.

This is the no-man’s land of new business development, an embattled territory for freelancers who must weigh up the pros and cons of building their profile and bootstrapping their outgoings. Last year, as summer turned to autumn, I was incredibly busy – but with little to show for it. I was at a loss to explain what a week full of meetings actually added up to. I’d been doling out the best part of my brain for months on end and leaving nothing for myself.

As winter hit, I reached breaking point. I finally realised that if I didn’t value my own time, no one else would. It was time to get serious about how freely I was giving away my time.

The debate about a woman’s worth has moved on from the binary notion of work and home. Now we must address the new value proposition that a woman’s working capital as a freelancer is just as precious as that of a woman in a full-time job. After eight months flying solo, here is the advice I would give any woman facing a similar issue:

Create a routine, and tell people about it

I set aside the start of the week for new business development and meetings and the rest for paid client work.

Give advice in a formal capacity whenever you can

Having spent a few years giving informal advice to friends in the NGO sector, I eventually took on a trustee position for a charity, which means I can advise them for free while having clear parameters about how much of my time that involves.

Develop a priority filter

I have a mental Venn diagram that overlays good learning potential, valuable connections and identifiable budget, and all invitations must cover off two.

Think about swapping your skills for payment

A friend needed some communications advice for her fledgling brand agency, and I needed a logo for my new venture, so we traded our assets.

Don’t be afraid of saying no

It turns out that most people respect you for it. Being tough with your own time means you can be more open to new opportunities, not less. I have benefited enormously from the kindness of others who gave me their time when I needed help, and I am committed to paying it forward. But in doing so, I now make a choice about the value I hold and give, while my friends and contacts will know that when I agree to help it’s because I’m happy to cash in those precious hours.