Man, December 2017, what a mess that was. I can still taste the anxiety from back then. It was the end of the year, everyone else was talking about holiday cheer and bonuses, and I was just staring at my bank account, feeling this cold, hard knot in my gut. My freelance work, which I thought was stable, just… dried up. Seriously, poof! One big client pulled their project, another decided to “postpone indefinitely,” and suddenly, the cash flow stopped dead.
I remember thinking, ‘Pisces, huh? Always dreaming, never getting a grip on reality.’ That was me, alright. I’d been floating along, kind of assuming things would just magically work out. But they weren’t. The bills started piling up – rent, groceries, that weird online subscription I forgot about. The panic wasn’t just a thought anymore; it was a physical weight.
I wasted a solid week, maybe even more, just moping. I was literally dragging myself around the apartment, muttering to myself, scrolling through endless job boards and feeling utterly useless. This wasn’t the plan. I knew I had skills, I could write, I could build things, but it felt like nobody wanted what I had to offer, not at the moment, and certainly not at a rate I could survive on.
Then, one morning, it hit me. Like a bucket of ice water. Enough. Was. Enough. Moping wasn’t going to pay the bills. Blaming the stars wasn’t going to put food on the table. I had to do something. And not just anything, but something specific and relentless. This was my pivot point, my “practice record” moment, even if I didn’t label it that way then.
The very first thing I did was grab an old spiral notebook and a pen. I just started listing everything I could do. Not just what I’d been paid for, but any skill, however rusty. I wrote down ‘blog post writing,’ ‘social media content for small businesses,’ ‘quick graphic design stuff,’ ‘even simple website updates.’ I emptied my brain onto that paper.
Next, I started digging. And I mean really digging. I wasn’t just hitting the big, obvious freelance platforms anymore. I went local. I looked up small shops in my area, searched local Facebook groups where people were asking for help, even checked out online business directories. My goal was simple: find problems I could solve, even if they seemed tiny.
I had this crazy idea: every single day, I picked five local businesses. I’d go to their website or their social media, and I’d find one small thing I thought they could easily fix or improve. Then, I’d send them a super short, polite email. Something like, ‘Hey, saw your site, noticed this little tweak might help, just thought you’d want to know.’ I wasn’t asking for money right away. I was just trying to offer value. It was tough, man. Most didn’t reply. Some just sent a quick “no thanks.” But a few did.
And that’s how it started. One small restaurant owner emailed me back, “You know what? I’ve been meaning to get someone to update my menu photos online.” Bingo. It was a tiny gig, not a massive payday, but it was money. And it was a spark. It broke the whole depressing spell.
That little win was the absolute turning point. After that, I just wouldn’t quit. Every single day, I stuck to a new routine:
- Morning Hustle: I’d dedicate two solid hours to reaching out to new potential clients. I’d personalize every message, making it about their business and their needs, not just rattling off my resume.
- Skill Sharpening: I’d spend another hour watching free tutorials on YouTube. Learned some basic Canva tricks for social media graphics, brushed up on my SEO game for writing, even dabbled in simple video editing for those quick promo clips. Not to become an expert overnight, but just enough to offer more to potential clients.
- Client Check-ins: I consistently reached out to any past clients, just a friendly “how are things going?” Sometimes they had new projects, sometimes they just appreciated the thought.
It wasn’t a straight line, far from it. There were plenty of days I felt completely spent, like I was just yelling into an empty room. I’d spend hours on a proposal, only for it to get rejected without a word. The urge to just throw in the towel and go back to staring at the ceiling was strong. But I kept pushing. I’d remember that horrible knot in my stomach from early December. I absolutely refused to feel that way again.
Around mid-January, things really began to shift. Those tiny gigs started adding up. The restaurant owner actually recommended me to another small shop down the street. One of those “cold” emails I sent turned into a consistent social media management retainer. The basic skills I was picking up, even if I wasn’t a master, gave me the confidence to pitch for slightly bigger projects.
By February, I wasn’t just surviving; my bank account was actually showing some growth. I had a few regular clients, a steady stream of smaller projects, and a completely different head on my shoulders. That feeling of being lost, that “Pisces dreaming” thing? It was still there sometimes, sure, but now it was channeled into solving problems and being creative, not just aimlessly drifting.
Looking back at December 2017, it felt like such a dark, uncertain time. But honestly, it was the kick in the pants I needed to get up and do the work. It taught me that waiting for opportunities is a losing game; you have to actively go out and create them, one consistent, often uncomfortable action at a time. It was a tough, tough lesson, but man, it really did pay off. And that’s how I went from feeling completely broke to building something real.
