The financial stresses related to freelancing (and a cancer diagnosis)

 

The dictionary defines a freelancer as someone who is "self-employed and hired to work for different companies on particular assignments." 

I am a professional freelancer who specialises in creating content with earned media exposure in mind. In other words: press releases, thought leadership pieces and, may the gods help me, listicles. The latter is the PR Agency's favourite brief and my least favourite writing job. I also do PR and marketing strategies and consulting. 

My husband is a professional freelance opera singer. His favourite joke is: "What do you call an opera singer who is not in a relationship? Homeless!" It is especially true in South Africa where opera died a slow and painful death following the provincial performing arts councils' closure in the early 1990s. 

Having two freelancers in one household means that there is no fixed monthly income. Unlike full-time workers who earn a monthly salary, freelancers rely on their ability to create their own work. We do not have the benefits associated with salaried individuals: paid annual leave; paid sick leave; unemployment insurance fund (UIF); pension fund; or subsidised life and health insurance. 

When we wake up with a head-cold, we cannot call the boss and stay in bed. When we get diagnosed with a dread disease, we have no choice but to force ourselves to work even though we know that our bodies need a time-out for treatment and healing. 

I quit my full-time job in February 2011. The first two years went surprisingly well. Then came a dark period: at the end of 2014, I lost my most significant contract - a non-profit company that lost its most prominent sponsor. The following year I shifted my focus and assisted my husband in producing three full operas at the Roodepoort Theatre. Our dream of earning a living by producing operas fell flat. Instead, we used up the last of our savings to pay the cast members we contracted. By the start of 2016, we signed up for a six-year debt rehabilitation programme, cancelled our medical aid, and our long- and short-term insurance. We sold most of our non-essential possessions like furniture, the television, our 20-year old collection of Magick the Gathering cards, and my guitar. Our lifestyle changed significantly. We no longer had credit cards or clothing accounts, so there was no purchase if there was no cash. 

By the start of 2018, through persistence and hard work, I was well on my way to have my best year ever as a freelancer. Finally, my career and our financial position seemed to be moving in the right direction. Then, in August 2019, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. As a result, I lost a big freelance contract at one of the country's leading PR agencies. When I started treatment, I was too exhausted to look for new work. By November 2019, my husband had several fundraising concerts lined up throughout the next year to help pay for my treatment and supplement my dwindling income. But the COVID-19 pandemic and subsequent lockdown put a sudden end to his efforts.

Although we've seen worse times, going through chemotherapy and other treatments with debilitating side-effects while going through a financially challenging time, puts unnecessary extra stress on a household. I don't think that any home was unaffected by the COVID-19 pandemic, but it took a lot of effort to deal with cancer treatment and the effects of the lockdown. 

It took me six months after chemo to start feeling a little more like myself again. By the start of 2021, I could confidently say that I have recovered fully from my treatment's draining side-effects. I started working my regular 16-hour days, and by the end of January, I am delighted that my income has recovered to 75% of what it was before my diagnosis. The prospect of getting back to my regular income pre-cancer within the first quarter of the year looks promising. I can then start paying off the more than R50,000 in medical debt built up since August 2019. 

On 31 January, I celebrate the 47th summer of my soul's current journey. The best early-birthday-gift I received was from my long-time friend, Chantal, with a referral for work that resulted in signing up a new client. Her consistent attempts to refer my services to her friends and acquaintances helped me more over the last two years than she realises. Words are insufficient to convey my sincere appreciation of her efforts. 

This year, I do not want physical gifts wrapped in colourful paper and tied with ribbons for my birthday. All I ask is to refer my services to one person whose business may benefit from my marketing expertise. However, if you feel that you want to donate towards the crowdfunding campaign that my husband started to pay for my treatment, you can do so by going to Back-a-Buddy.