Holy Hell, I Went Full Time
Sunday the 25th of August was my first day as a full time business owner. It’s been less than two weeks since my first day of responsibility and freedom, and I’m still pinching myself that it’s happening.
You see, I had big dreams to go full time by the beginning of this year. Big dreams, small plans and an even smaller mindset. I think I knew deep down that I wasn’t ready — strategically or mentally — to tackle full time business ownership, so I squashed my ego and waited.
It wasn’t easy. Everywhere I looked, friends and past colleagues of mine were going full time. Sending in their resignation letters, boomeranging celebratory drinks on Instagram Stories. I was thrilled for them, but also mad at myself.
The biggest lessons I’ve learnt in the past eight months is patience and faith. Patience, knowing that good things will come at the right time. Faith, in myself and belief that I can do this.
I can do this.
Those four words are surprisingly hard to mutter when you’re alone at your computer after another late night, wondering where your next client will be coming from.
So, I waited. From January through to August, I had a casual job at a tourism call centre. It was a good job, if I’m honest. My colleagues were nice enough, the work itself wasn’t too complicated, and I could leave any stress at the door.
It was the perfect in between job, and I’ll always be grateful for the flexibility and understanding I was given during my time there.
But, like most of you, I wanted more. I wanted to tick “full time business owner” off my never ending list.
I started reading more memoirs and listening to podcasts on the reg. I took notes at free webinars and watched the replays of my dream coaches on Instagram Live. I bided my time, trying to be patient, trying to wait for a sign.
The work kept flowing in, it always does. From April, I began making more from Rust than any of my previous day jobs. I was dumbstruck when my invoices were paid. I didn’t know what to do with all the money — my money — and it took a good few months to stop pinching myself and accept that 5K months were a thing. A thing that was happening to me.
Earlier in the year, I booked a week-long trip to Brisbane in September to see The 1975 and catch up with some friends. I would repeat to myself on the daily “I’ll be full time by September. I’ll be full time by September.”
Looking back, you could say I manifested this, and to a degree, I did. But I also put in a truck load of work. I kept going. Kept showing up. Kept putting my face on Stories even when I had nothing insightful to say.
I started sharing pictures of myself on our grid (something that I recommend all of you do — along with signing off with your NAME. There’s still so many accounts that I follow and I have no idea who the people talking/writing the captions are. It’s bizarre).
And clearly, it’s paid off. I have a constant stream of new work and a brilliant retainer client who I work for a few days each week. For the first time since I was 18, I finally have my weekends back.
No study, no retail hours, no side hustle. Just me and my weekends. So of course, I’ve already started filling them with travel and side projects, because I don’t know what to do with myself when I have more than one full day off a week.
I decided to go full time on Wednesday 14th August. I remember this particular date, as I’ve got the messages documented in my group transformation program, The Joyful Soul. Our lovely coach and guide, Hannah, asked “if I could wave a magic wand this week and make one of your goals come true, what would it be?”.
I told her that I wanted to go full time and Hannah responded, wise as ever, with “What intuitively do you feel is holding you back from doing so?”
With her question in mind, I unpacked my beliefs, fears and excuses. I stripped them down and got to the core: the reason I hadn’t gone full time already. It was so simple, yet so weighty.
I was stopping myself from doing what I craved because I was worried about having to rely on others to support me (if the money didn’t come).
After getting to the bottom of my bullshit, I realised that I COULD go full time. My partner supported my decision. I had some savings for rent. I don’t have children or a mortgage or any serious debts. I believed that clients would continue to flow in.
So, I did it. I told the group that I was going full time and it was the calmest I’d felt in months. Hannah was actually shocked at how relaxed I was about the decision. But it felt right. Like I had nothing to worry about. Like it would all work out.
From there, I went on holiday to Melbourne (that’s another story of revelations) and tried to organise a time to meet my boss. Because of our schedules never crossing, I ended up sending him my letter of resignation via email on Friday, and had my last shift the next day.
I drove home on a cloud. Holy shit, I’m full time now.
I’m sharing my story with you today because it’s rarely spoken about. People put up the celebratory images and Stories, but they rarely share how they got to that point.
I hope that by reading this — if you are still part time or side hustling, but desperately want to go full time — it gives you something to think about. You don’t have to take the leap just because everyone else is. You can do it in your own time and for your own reasons — just promise me that they’re good ones.
Because yes, working for yourself is incredibly freeing and wonderful. You can set your hours and take days off when you please. But you also need to have a great money mindset, tackle the shitty tasks and call out your bullshit.
With that, I wish you luck. Not that you’ll need it.
Until the next brew,
Viv + Team Rust
Rust Creative helps women in their twenties fast-track finding their purpose. Through 1:1 coaching, group programs and specialised resources, we offer women clarity and direction so that they can ENJOY the most exciting decade of their lives. And tea, always tea.
The Rust Woman
AKA Our Ideal Client.
She's a savvy twenty-something looking for a safe space to he heard and supported. She's confident that she can achieve her goals, but she doesn't know how she'll get there – yet. She KNOWS she has a purpose but needs a helping hand to uncover it.