The Leap Into Uncertainty
Three months ago, I walked out of my last "real job" as a junior copywriter at a marketing firm. At 24, I'm now that girl - the one who tells relatives "I'm freelance" while secretly calculating how many more ramen meals I can afford before my savings run out. My Brooklyn studio apartment doubles as my office, client call space, and occasional panic room. That moment when your last stable paycheck clears and reality hits? Terrifying. But here's what keeps me going: every morning I wake up to my handwritten sign that says "You're building something real" taped above my thrifted desk.
The Feast-or-Famine Rollercoaster
November was brutal. Three clients ghosted me after "loving" my work samples, leaving me scrambling to make rent. I learned the hard way about contracts (always get one) and deposits (50% upfront, no exceptions). But December? December showed me why I took this leap. I landed my first four-figure project - rebranding a local coffee shop's entire visual identity. Seeing my designs on their cups, bags, and storefront gave me a high no corporate job ever could. I celebrated by buying actual groceries instead of just instant noodles. This is the freelance life: equal parts exhilarating and exhausting, where your self-worth fluctuates with your inbox.
The Portfolio Hustle
My secret weapon? I treat every project like it's my portfolio masterpiece - even when the pay is embarrassing. That pro bono website I built for my aunt's friend's bakery? It got me two paying clients. The TikTok series where I document my design process? Landed me a retainer with a sustainable fashion startup. I've become a master of repurposing - that rejected logo concept became a font package on Creative Market, the abandoned illustration turned into a Redbubble bestseller. Every scrap of work serves multiple purposes now. My rule? If I'm not getting paid in money, I'm getting paid in exposure, experience, or portfolio pieces.
The Realities No One Talks About
Here's what Instagram freelancers don't show: the 3 AM anxiety spirals when a client disappears. The shame of applying for food stamps while your website boasts "award-winning designs." The loneliness of working solo for days without human interaction. I've developed a survival toolkit: a "f-off fund" (two months' rent in savings), a therapist who specializes in creative professionals, and a strict "no working from bed" policy. My biggest lesson? Freelancing isn't just about skills - it's about mental resilience. Some weeks I feel like an imposter; others, I'm convinced I'm the best designer in Brooklyn. Both are probably true.
To Anyone Starting Their Freelance Journey
If I could give my 3-months-ago-self advice:
1) Specialize before you generalize (I wasted months as a "general creative")
2) Your network is your net worth - nurture it daily
3) Track every hour at first - you're probably undercharging
4) "No" is a complete sentence to nightmare clients
5) Celebrate tiny wins like they're major victories
I'm not "successful" yet by traditional standards. But today, when a client said "We want the Stacy Reid touch," I realized - I'm building something more valuable than job security. I'm building a reputation. And that? That tastes better than all the ramen in the world.
— Stacy Reid
Freelance Designer & Relentless Hustler