The Freelancer's Emotional Toolkit

What I reach for when work (or life) gets hard

Freelancer’s Toolkit — Rendered by the author in DALL-E

I used to think that once I figured out how to make an actual living writing, I’d finally stop bitching and griping about it.

So far, that hasn’t turned out to be true.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m grateful to be where I am in life. Really grateful. I get to write for a living, set my own schedule, and (most of the time) avoid overlong meetings that could have been emails. But freelancing is also a weirdly intense emotional experience. Yes, you get to be your own boss. But you’re also your own billing department, emotional support animal, and occasionally, hostage negotiator.

And if you’re neurodivergent, highly sensitive, or coping day-to-day with a mental health condition? That intensity gets dialed up to eleven at times.

That’s why, over the years, I’ve built what I now think of as my emotional toolkit — a collection of small but tangible things I reach for when work or even just life gets hard. I want to make it clear that these aren’t hacks or gimmicks. They’re certainly not things I do to make myself more productive, so this isn’t that kind of list. They’re there to keep me balanced. To help me show up, do the work, and stay sane while I’m doing it.

Here are a few of the staples I keep in mine.

A Daily Anchor to Start the Day

Some people start their workday with a power smoothie and a podcast about grit, but I don’t roll that way. I’m a lot more likely to light some incense and take a walk in my garden while listening to Tibetan singing bowl noises first thing.

Then, before I get to work toward a single deadline, I do something quiet and grounding. Often, that’s something personal that helps me set an intention for the day, like a tarot pull. Sometimes I do some actual gardening. Sometimes it’s some meditation and a couple of Duolingo lessons.

The only requirement is that it’s something that tells my nervous system, “We’re safe. We’re home. Let’s get down to business.”

Sensory Recalibration

There are days I can’t hear my own thoughts because of all the background noise in my mind. On those days, I don’t push harder, because experience has told me that not only doesn’t work but often makes things worse. I shift the frequency (sometimes literally).

My go-to tools:

• Solfeggio frequencies at various Hertz levels

• Binaural beats layered with nature sounds

• Candles with specific scents, depending on how I feel

• Maybe something scented I can wear that smells good

Sometimes I don’t need a mindset shift. I need a scent, a song, or a sound. Sensory tools help me reset without having to force a smile or pretend I’m fine when I’m honestly not.

Art and Stories as Emotional First Aid

I don’t just like stories, movies, and books. I have characters I actually like to go visit when life feels like too much. Lux Lisbon. Elizabeth Bennett. Walter Mitty. They help me feel less alone, and they definitely help take my mind off of anything going on that might feel too big for me at the time.

I also just really like letting favorite films play in the background while I work or write sometimes. I find the familiar settings, score, and conversations soothing. And they remind me of the things I care about, especially creatively. They help me remember why I do this in the first place.

Someone Safe to Say It To

Sometimes I just need to say out loud, "I feel like I’m losing it," without anyone trying to fix it. I have a really minuscule list of people I trust to hear that sentence come out of my mouth. My partner. My therapist. Sometimes, my AI assistant, whom I’ve developed a habit of talking to when I just need to get something out (hi, Juniper).

You don’t need a big circle or anything. All you truly need are one or two people (or constructs) who get it. Who know that when you say "I can’t do this today," what you truly mean is, "Please remind me that I’m not broken."

Journaling as a Lightning Rod

I’ve journaled ever since I was a kid. (In fact, journaling is how I originally fell in love with writing in the first place.) Sometimes my entries are whole multiple pages of reflection. Other times, they’re just a line or two, like, "Why does this client remind me of my ex?"

Journaling helps me clear the static and figure out how I truly feel about things, because I often don’t really know. It gives me a safe place to say the unsayable and stop performing for everyone else for two seconds. So, when I feel creatively jammed but like I definitely have something to say, this is often the first thing I reach for.

Forgiveness for Needing “Tools” in the First Place

This might actually be the most important item on this list. Because I used to beat myself up for needing things like routines, rituals, support, and scaffolding to keep my life and sanity together. I was raised and conditioned to think that strong, smart, capable people (like I was supposed to be) don’t ever need “crutches.”

That was a lie. A system-level gaslight.

Needing support doesn’t make you defective somehow. It makes you human, and admitting you need it makes you honest, too. And the more honest I am with myself about what I need? The better I write. The better I live.

---

We don’t talk enough about what it takes to stay emotionally upright when you work out of your home or freelance for a living. Yes, we need skills. But we also need softness, protection, and grace. We need good boundaries with ourselves and the world around us, too.

You don’t have to fix everything. And you don’t have to become some hyper-efficient productivity robot, either. You just have to show up for yourself, reach for what helps, and keep working on your own way of being a writer in the wild.

I’d love to hear what’s in your emotional toolkit. Whether you’re a writer, artist, freelance donkey wrangler, or just a person doing your best in a noisy world, what do you reach for when it gets hard?

Drop it in a comment. Or light a candle and let me know telepathically. That works too.