- I started working fully remotely right after graduating from college in the spring of 2020.
- Although remote work is praised for its flexibility, I found myself feeling lonely and trapped.
- I quit my dream job to get out of the house more and integrate into the community.
In the spring of 2020, my life felt like it was in the palm of an arm-wrestling match. As graduation neared, messages from professors and parents were relayed like stories. “It's time to go out into the world.'' But this world looked different than the one they had experienced in graduate school. It was closed during the pandemic.
Cities were emptying, businesses were leaving, and the consensus was to do nothing but go out. As I dug deeper into the difficult job search process, remote work started to seem like an attractive option. However, for me it was the only option.
I finally landed my dream job, but the remote lifestyle was my downfall.
Remote work seemed like a perfect fit at first
My TikTok is full of videos depicting life after college, including quiet commutes, mundane work days, monotonous daily routines, and lonely homes. In many ways, remote work appeared to be a avoidance of notorious corporate challenges. No need to waste time sitting on the highway or train. There's no dress code and you don't have to cover up your tattoos. There are no dog or human sitters. There are no fluorescent lights or private rooms.
When I got my dream job at a famous magazine, I thought it was perfect. The job would allow him to live in a coastal town instead of moving to the city. I could put on a jazz record, take a yoga break, or spread out across the living room floor. Most importantly, you will be free to visit your family as often as you like.
The pandemic accelerated the transition to full-time remote work. Almost everyone else was at home too, so being stuck inside from morning until night felt like a normal thing.
But things changed once pandemic rules were eased
I soon found myself becoming restless. Before the lockdown, I used to spend all day outside the house every day. As a full-time remote worker, I quickly became frustrated with being home all day. These feelings intensified as my job became more and more demanding and I was unable to get out before dark.
I moved to San Francisco in 2022, a decision made possible by my fully remote role. Although I was grateful for the freedom to live wherever I wanted, my job had never felt so controlling. My ability to get used to my new home city was hampered because I rarely had the opportunity to leave my desk in my bedroom while I worked. Even though I had some great roommates and a solid friend base in the Bay, I felt completely disconnected from the community.
My days were spent communicating with people through screens. I existed in a mostly immaterial world. Collaborate via everything but your physical table, including Slack, Microsoft Teams, Airtable, Google Docs, and Sprinklr.
I realized that remote workers lack both a secondary location (work) and a tertiary location (socialization). Social media and Microsoft Teams are poor substitutes for these spaces. In fact, it reinforces the need for it.
In the end, I was able to give up my good job on paper and get a better daily life.
I have always been ambitious and hardworking. But at some point last year, I felt like while I was a good journalist, I was failing as a 25-year-old.
Ultimately, I quit my remote job in pursuit of a freelance schedule that gave me the space to fit in in San Francisco. I wanted to bring more dimension and spontaneity to my life. I wanted to get a little lost, bump into people, and create a new routine based on my environment rather than my inbox.
I'm very lucky to be in a position to do that. I'm a single person with no dependents and a flexible living situation, and my industry has more opportunities for freelance work than other industries.
Now, my career feels more unstable, but my days are round and varied. My work is a combination of in-person and remote. During “work hours” you can go outside, work at a cafe, and connect with people.
If you had told me a year ago that I would be leaving my role at a prestigious magazine, working part-time at a yoga studio, and struggling as a freelance writer, I would have been worried about the future. I still do, but my anxiety about the future pales in comparison to how anxious and dissatisfied I was in my daily life working remotely. I prefer to be a little upset about what could happen now rather than worrying about what if.
