The day I became a 'nobody'

I used to be a ‘somebody’ in the workforce. When I called people and said, “It’s Ange Takats, from Reuters” or “It’s Ange Takats, from Channel Nine News” – I was guaranteed a certain level of respect and attention.

Now, when I'm asked where I’m calling from, all I can say is, “Um, nowhere. It’s just me – Ange Takats”. I'm officially a 'nobody'.

My decision to leave full-time employment came off the back of a year working a corporate PR job in Sydney that paid me ridiculously well. The money, however, did not make up for...

the daily two-hour public transport commute
the freezing air-conditioned office cubicle
the mind-numbing fluorescent lighting
the endless 'brainstorming' meetings that left me brain-drained
the pressure from my boss for me to win over new clients
the fact that I was waking up each day with no desire to live.

And so I made the huge decision to leave my hometown and move to the Sunshine Coast; to explore the possibility of creating a career that would allow me to not only enjoy my Saturdays and Sundays, but also my Monday to Friday.

It has been eight years since I became a freelancer.

Now, when the sun is shining outside my home office, I can walk down to the beach and have an ocean dip. When I feel the need to sing, I can step away from my computer and pick up my guitar. There is...

time to eat well

time to exercise

time to spend precious moments with the people that I love

time to breathe

time to discover what makes me happy - and do more of it.

But working as my own boss is not without its pitfalls.

I never know when my next contract job will come along. Sometimes there are weeks without money flowing into my account. There is no financial security. There is no sick or holiday pay. There are clients who take three months to pay an invoice.

And yet I’ve never missed a rent payment. And I’ve had enough cash to self-fund two albums and publish a book.

I might not have a multinational company behind me, or a swanky title on my business card, but at least when the receptionist on the other end of the line asks me where I'm calling from, my heart knows the true answer - a very splendid place called freedom.

Photo by Lib Creative