Life in the freelance lane
People change. Everyone knows that, and it's easy to see changes in friends and family. Not so easy to see them in yourself. It's even harder to acknowledge changes to yourself when the changes aren't always for the better.
I've changed. I'm getting used to new me, but she's weird and often I'm not sure I like her. Sure, new me is loads better at handling social situations, and I can fake extroversion in a way that would have had teen-me beaming with pride. New me isn't scared of not having a safety net, or running out of money, or jogging.
But I've also turned soft and sentimental. Old me was hard, conditioned by a life lived on the breadlines. All I really cared about was earning enough to keep me out of the homelessness office again. 12 years on from my last visit there, and I think I might finally have relaxed about my chances of ending up on the streets. But the anxiety hasn't gone away, it's just found new outlets. Now my life is quite nice, I do stupid soppy person stuff like cry at the news, because I don't like hearing about bad things happening to people.
I also get incredibly homesick, and it's a very hard thing to get used to. From the age of 16 to 23, I didn't really have a stable place to live, so homesickness wasn't something I ever experienced. All my stuff traveled with me between spare rooms in various parts of the country, rarely staying anywhere for more than 6 months at a time. Now, aged 29, I have a nice little flat full of lovely things (most of it tat), including a husband and a cat. Leaving them behind, even for a few days, is difficult.
I found this out the hard way. I accepted a job several hundred miles away, that kept me away for almost two weeks. When I left, in my head I was still the hard me of old, able to adapt in an instant and leave my old life behind without a second thought.
Two weeks isn't even a long time to be away, but it felt like Christmas Day when I finally got to go home. I had just under a fortnight back in Manchester before I accepted my next contract, which took me further away for even longer.
I was massively miserable the entire time, literally counting down the hours until I could next get back on a train home. I couldn't engage in what was going on around me, as I was obsessing too much on what I was missing out on at home. Choking back tears at the sound of the cat meowing in the background of phone calls to Jeff, I began to wonder if I'd done the right thing. My job means I'm likely to have to take many more jobs away in the future. I've heard many stories of women in my profession who've sacrificed personal lives for the job, and I'm not sure it's what I want for myself. Old me wouldn't have given personal sacrifices a second thought - she was focused on the bigger picture. New me just wants to be at home with my little family, reading or watching TV.
Old me was so convinced she could handle being away from home. She knew she wanted a career in Television more than anything else. Now I'm here, I'm living the life I always wanted for myself, and I'm not sure I like it, and I'm not sure I like the effects it's having on my personality. But I don't know what else in the world I'd be good at. Yikes.
This is rambly and unfocused because I'm tired. But I needed to write it down.
I've changed. I'm getting used to new me, but she's weird and often I'm not sure I like her. Sure, new me is loads better at handling social situations, and I can fake extroversion in a way that would have had teen-me beaming with pride. New me isn't scared of not having a safety net, or running out of money, or jogging.
But I've also turned soft and sentimental. Old me was hard, conditioned by a life lived on the breadlines. All I really cared about was earning enough to keep me out of the homelessness office again. 12 years on from my last visit there, and I think I might finally have relaxed about my chances of ending up on the streets. But the anxiety hasn't gone away, it's just found new outlets. Now my life is quite nice, I do stupid soppy person stuff like cry at the news, because I don't like hearing about bad things happening to people.
I also get incredibly homesick, and it's a very hard thing to get used to. From the age of 16 to 23, I didn't really have a stable place to live, so homesickness wasn't something I ever experienced. All my stuff traveled with me between spare rooms in various parts of the country, rarely staying anywhere for more than 6 months at a time. Now, aged 29, I have a nice little flat full of lovely things (most of it tat), including a husband and a cat. Leaving them behind, even for a few days, is difficult.
I found this out the hard way. I accepted a job several hundred miles away, that kept me away for almost two weeks. When I left, in my head I was still the hard me of old, able to adapt in an instant and leave my old life behind without a second thought.
Two weeks isn't even a long time to be away, but it felt like Christmas Day when I finally got to go home. I had just under a fortnight back in Manchester before I accepted my next contract, which took me further away for even longer.
I was massively miserable the entire time, literally counting down the hours until I could next get back on a train home. I couldn't engage in what was going on around me, as I was obsessing too much on what I was missing out on at home. Choking back tears at the sound of the cat meowing in the background of phone calls to Jeff, I began to wonder if I'd done the right thing. My job means I'm likely to have to take many more jobs away in the future. I've heard many stories of women in my profession who've sacrificed personal lives for the job, and I'm not sure it's what I want for myself. Old me wouldn't have given personal sacrifices a second thought - she was focused on the bigger picture. New me just wants to be at home with my little family, reading or watching TV.
Old me was so convinced she could handle being away from home. She knew she wanted a career in Television more than anything else. Now I'm here, I'm living the life I always wanted for myself, and I'm not sure I like it, and I'm not sure I like the effects it's having on my personality. But I don't know what else in the world I'd be good at. Yikes.
This is rambly and unfocused because I'm tired. But I needed to write it down.