Where do freelance writers go after they retire?
It's a trick question, we're always at our computer
Hi Friend,
I used to worry about retirement. Constantly. Usually the word “retirement” randomly popped into my head, almost immediately followed by an overwhelming sense of panic, like seeing the battery life on my iPhone drop to 2% with no charger in sight. I would break out into a cold sweat, my heart would race, and I would picture my bleak future years, with no friends and no means to support myself.
It was quite the spiral.
I don’t have a work-sponsored pension and as a single person (in the eyes of Revenue Canada) there’s no spousal pension, either. I have whatever I can save from my work income and the Canada Pension Plan (for whatever that will be worth in the future—spoiler alert, probably not a lot).
(And, if I’m being totally honest, I’m not that great at saving money.)
If I want to retire the way society thinks everyone should retire, I need to stop doing everything at age 65, buy an RV, and travel around while waxing nostalgic about the good old days. Hopefully with a dog who likes to travel, too.
But living like that takes money. The dog needs food, the RV needs gas, and what if I need medications?!?
And so in the past whenever I thought about retirement, I panicked. I told myself I need to start hoarding my money like a squirrel hoarding nuts for the winter.
Then I’d see a new pair of shoes I absolutely loved and I told myself that retirement is future Heidi’s problem and I’ll worry about it another day. Unlike the squirrel, I have tons of time.
Lately, however, I’ve been rethinking my vision of retirement.
Here’s why: unlike a lot of other careers, freelancers can work well into our senior years. There’s no mandatory freelance retirement age; as long as clients are willing to pay us for my work we can keep earning money. We may want to pull back a little, but that’s different from having to stop entirely.
Many people—too many—work themselves sick when they’re young. They don’t take their weekends, they don’t fully unplug from work during vacations, they work long hours, they’re constantly stressed, they don’t own their time, and for what? So they can save for a retirement they might not get to enjoy.
I’d much rather build a career now that I can sustain forever, if I want.
This gives me a few benefits:
1. I’m not counting down the days until retirement (talk about wishing your life away).
2. I’m not banking that all my hard work and sacrifices will pay off with a long retirement before I die. (I know many people who retired from work and within a year retired from living. Is that a line in the Alanis Morrisette song about irony? Because it should be.)
3. I don’t have to contemplate an infinite existence with nothing to do after I’m forced to retire. (I suspect my days would be filled with long conversations with my dog, which would be concerning for the people around me and also for my dog.)
The point is, I would much rather have less stress now and enjoy my time, knowing I could continue doing the same work into my 120s (yeah, maybe I will live that long) than run myself ragged so I can come to a full stop at 65.
Financially, I might not be able to retire fully at 65, but I also don’t need to. My work life is reasonably enjoyable. In fact, I think it’s the kind of work life most people would love to have.
Whenever I consider quitting freelancing so I can have a pension, I think about all the moments I would lose by having a regular 9-5 job. The slightly later starts to the day when I’m exhausted. Walking my dog every morning no matter what time I get up. Whipping out for an appointment without justifying it to anyone. Grabbing myself a drink from the fridge any time I feel like it. Eating when I’m hungry, not when it’s a company mandated lunch hour.
I’m not saying I don’t work hard: I like to think I do. But I don’t want to wait for my life to be over (now I’m just blatantly stealing from popular 90s songs) to enjoy my time.
The way I live now is basically how I would want to live in retirement, maybe with slightly shorter workdays and more free time.
Admittedly, not everyone has the freedom I do. Many people entering retirement choose this time to start their freelance writing or editing business, so I’m living some people’s retirement dreams already. Given that I share a house with a friend, I’m basically a slightly younger Dorothy Zbornak, without the wicker furniture and acerbic sense of humour.
I might get frustrated chasing down clients for payment and tired of marketing myself but I’m in charge of my time.
And that’s invaluable.
For me, my ideal retirement would mean I still work, but part-time. I take on projects or assignments I want to, but I still have ample time for myself and my friends. I can afford to turn away any projects I’m not interested in.
In other words, retirement to me looks like owning my time. But owning my time doesn’t necessarily mean endless free time.
Recognizing this means I don’t have to worry as much about having the equivalent of Croatia’s GDP saved up by the time I’m 65. I’m far too worried about how I’ll get used to wearing the rocket shoes and driving my flying RV to have the capacity to also worry about my retirement funds.
I’m not saying writers shouldn’t save for retirement; saving will give you financial freedom and that gives you a lot of power. But I’m also not telling you to stop freelancing and get a job so you can secure a pension.
Maybe just build a career you love that you can sustain for a long time. Because if you love what you do, you might want to do it well after 65.
Maybe from an RV with a dog by your side. But not a cat. The dog hates cats.
(Side note, after hearing the experiences of many people who had very long careers with a small number of employers and came away with miniscule pensions that don’t cover their costs, I’m more convinced than ever that freelancing is the best way to go.)
Here’s to your continued freelance success,
Heidi
PS, if you like reading my tips, strategies and insights into freelancing, please consider subscribing!
Finding fellow writers on Substack is a treat. I’ve felt this way since I started writing professionally. Great piece. Speaks to so many of us.