I’m Living a Hustle Lifestyle Because I Have To, Not Because I Want To

The self-care push has been raging these past few years, and all of these advertisers using this pitch to sell their high ticket “self-care items” must be cashing in. Bully for them. If you can capitalize on people’s privilege, go for the gold, quite literally.

As consumers, as human beings, we are told to relax. Gone are the days when a good work ethic and a go-getter attitude is revered in a workplace setting. Now, we get articles thrown at us about how burnout is a real damn thing, and too many people are feeling its exhausting wrath. Stretching oneself can lead to health problems, depression, snapping at your children over the way they spit their toothpaste basically directly onto the mirror every time they brush their goddamn teeth, the laundry list of side effects is seemingly never-ending.

I would really like to buy into all of this because that would mean I had self-care options. As it stands right now, I cannot let my guard down for long enough to eat a cookie in peace before I start thinking about money, work, and how I will get more of each.

I don’t pander to these thoughts because I’m some greedy asshole, either. I’m not on the hunt for side hustles because that “extra” income makes me feel powerful and fulfilled.

I embark on freelancing, warehouse work, job boards, and cash jobs because I don’t have a choice.

It’s not about building a brand, but instead, I’m simply trying to keep a roof over my children’s heads.

I’m so sick and tired of people telling me that I should unplug for a day. They will take one look at the perpetually dark circles under my eyes and say, “Oooh, it looks like you could use a spa day. Why don’t you give it a rest for once and think about you.” Then they will add in a holier-than-thou voice, “Self-care is a need not a want, you know.”

And I will laugh and laugh as I settle into my hunched-over-the-keyboard position that has come to feel like home.

My kids are basically the only ones who can tell me to take a break from what I’m doing. I can’t argue with them because they’re so dang cute. They tell me they want to watch a movie and cuddle, and I’m putty in their tiny hands.

I suppose this is part of my privilege, too, that I am fortunate to work most of my gigs from the comfort of my home. I can afford to take a night off once in a while to watch a movie with my kids. I think of the single mothers out there who are working double shifts and just barely making it home in time to get their kids off to school, and I shrink with the knowledge that I have no fucking right to complain about my situation.

The kids are all over me as we watch Bob’s Burgers on Prime. It always comes down to Bob’s Burgers. We will scroll through our various streaming platforms, eventually realizing it’s all crap compared to Bob’s Burgers.

So here we are. I’m on the couch, phone in hand, Bob and Linda bantering away in their burger joint on the TV. Sophie, my daughter, has started painting my toenails (this is the closest I will get to the spa in the foreseeable future, and I’m okay with it) while Lars is making strange, nonsensical sounds at his perch behind my head.

It’s actually quite soothing. It does feel nice to get a little downtime. I am just starting to think I need to carve out a bit more time for this each week when my phone dings with the familiar notification sound of an incoming email.

Yes! A response to a pitch I had sent out earlier that week. Plus, I see that another freelancing opportunity has been posted onto the job board that emails me directly with appropriate opportunities that come up.

Of course, I probably should wait to read this and deal with these new developments. I did, after all, tell the kids I’d spend some time with them. Although, their birthdays and Christmas are coming up, and I need to make some extra money so I don’t have to resort to the ole coal in the stocking trick because I can’t afford stuffer-toys. Joke! That was a joke. For the record, I’m not that big of a jerk to put coal in my kid’s stockings.

The sad truth is, we cannot afford to spend quantity time with our children.

This isn’t a matter of want. We don’t live some high-class life that is insanely expensive to upkeep. There’s no room for downsizing. We rarely even spend money on takeout. We are a buy in bulk, coupon clipping, cook from scratch kind of peoples and still are finding it difficult to get by.

Sophie finishes painting my nails while I craft together some email responses in my head. Then after two episodes of Bob’s Burgers, I’m back in my office working.

I want to hope that one day they will understand why their dad and I work so hard. I hope they realize that it was out of this love for them that we did it. I worry, though, that this truth won’t come through.

Working has been made into a somewhat evil thing in today’s culture. If we work too much, we’re workaholics who are putting our health and wellbeing at risk. But the influencers who preach about self-care rarely talk about the other side of it — the need to survive in an increasingly materialistic and expensive world.

How can we take these “rest days” that are being shoved down our throats when one day of missed work might cause our ship to sink? Maybe it’s that the people who tell us to rest don’t understand what living paycheck to paycheck means. Perhaps now, because they’ve lived a comfortable lifestyle for so long, they have forgotten what one missed day of work could mean on their end of the month paycheck.

I don’t want to hear about the “need” for self-care anymore. We need to eat. We need to have access to clean drinking water. We need to keep our mental and physical health in check, yes.

But what I need most is to keep on working these side hustles to pay my bills, feed my children and know that I am doing everything I can to give them a good life. Much to the influencers’ disbelief, I don’t work all of these jobs to avoid self-care or throw off some mythic work/life balance.

I work these jobs simply because I have to.

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Previously published on medium

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