Self Employed in a Global Pandemic
Living in the UK, Covid-19 was very much an abstract up until around March 10th 2020. At least it was for my social bubble and me. It was something that seemed to be happening so far from home, a news cycle or two that would eventually fade into the background. Here we were being told to sing Happy Birthday while we washed our hands as more and more deaths were reported in Europe. Looking back now, it’s almost embarrassing to admit how naïve we all were.
The week of March 16th, it all became real. Clients who were immunosuppressed began to self-isolate; a term that still didn’t really make much sense to the masses. Colleagues lamenting the loss of clients as students headed home, the word ‘quarantine’ being thrown around. My personal favourite, a friend worrying about ‘dicking around Edinburgh as a virus runs rampant’. This was when it all became real to me. We were headed into a lockdown similar to Italy and Spain, but did the country have the infrastructure to support it? Talks of no support from Insurance companies because there wasn’t really a problem yet.
Then March 20th at 5pm, gyms and leisure facilities were told to close. I was on my way to teach a Cycle class and arrived at the studio in floods of tears, attempting to explain myself to reception staff and other instructors who hadn’t heard yet. It felt as though everything I had worked for had been ripped out from under me and I had a 45minute class to inspire and motivate others – what a night! Our mantra that week was ‘make time for you’, I spoke about how listening to your body will give you the answer, how external factors will cause noise and chaos but you are strong enough to survive anything.
I didn’t really have the words at the time; I knew I had to do something for my clients, the people who were depending on me and for my own sanity. The next day I hightailed it to my sisters in Glasgow to regroup and start to figure out what the hell I was going to do. The future of my business was uncertain, the future of my career was a big question mark and I wasn’t entirely sure how I was going to pay my next months rent. I have to say right now, I cannot thank my clients enough. One called me that day and asked how they could help, and so was arranged my first online session.
That first week was a rollercoaster of emotions, hearing we were officially in lockdown, realising I only had four pairs of pants, that I was looking at transitioning my business in some way to an online sort-of-something. I did what I could to remind myself that I was very privileged; we had a garden, we had space, I had my big sister to take care of me. I started to put together resources that would become my Online Coaching Programme, but started out as a folder on my laptop called ‘subscription type thing’. It was a little scary to see how quickly I was able to pull things together, watching friends and colleagues rally with online workouts, free guides and new products. Daily webinars being pumped out from every type of service provider, Zoom suddenly becoming the norm for any kind of meeting.
Every day we would watch the briefings from the Scottish and UK Government, waiting for news on any kind of financial aid that may become available for the Self Employed. Before the SEISS was announced, I checked my eligibility for Universal Credit, which was being lauded as the lifeline so many people needed. Should I have applied for UC, I could receive £7 a month in benefits. 23p a day when I essentially didn’t have a job. This was the first time I felt sick, the thought of receiving no financial aid whatsoever made me feel sick to my stomach. How would I pay rent on my Edinburgh flat, pay the council tax, make some kind of contribution to my sister who was letting me live with her, unannounced, for who know how long?! £7 a month, a coffee and a half, a cheap bottle of wine, two Tesco meal deals – that was the reality I was facing.
Luckily, my first online coaching group filled within three days. Twelve people looking for structure during lockdown, and a small injection into my bank account. I could cover the rent, bills and have a little left over for a trip or two to Lidl for the essentials.
Then, the SEISS was announced. This was the lifeline I had been holding out for! By June, everyone who filed a tax return for 2018/19 would receive a cash grant of 80% of their profits, up to £2,500 per month for three months, and those who hadn’t filled in their self assessment before January 31st were given an extension so they could benefit from the scheme. There were warnings in the briefings that this wouldn’t help everyone, but that they predicted 95% of those who are registered as self-employed would be helped. Knowing what I know now, I think that number came from the same data collection as the infamous Brexit bus.
Fast-forward to June 13th, the SEISS goes live and onto HMRC I pop to register. Having lived in Glasgow for two months now, I hadn’t heard anything, so had small concerns there was a nasty surprise waiting for me, but put it down to not being at my registered address. Hunting through emails to find all the right passwords and numbers, signing in to about four hundred different parts of the website, to find out – I’m ineligible.
I put all my details in three times; not really wanting to believe it was true. There had to be some kind of explanation. I emailed my accountant trying to find a nice way to ask ‘what the actual f*ck?’. Turns out because I kept my full time job whilst building my business, my income split was 53% employment, 47% self employment; 3% off the minimum 50/50 UK Government prerequisite.
This was when I cried. A lot. Sat in my sisters’ kitchen and tried to explain what had happened, even though I didn’t really understand it myself. The bare minimum on Universal Credit, ineligible for the biggest self employment grant and out with the start dates for the Scottish Government grant. Remember my Brexit Bus analogy – this is when it hit me, the 95%, I was one of the apparent 5%.
I signed and shared the petition, I emailed my MP, I spoke with others in the same position, I now know that there are 3.1million people in the UK who have been left out in the cold, with no financial aid, no furlough, denied Universal Credit; 1.6million of those are Self Employed, 1.175million because of the 50% minimum from tax year 18/19 (ExcludedUK; ONS June2020; HMRC). This group doesn’t simply include those who survived on additional sources of income whilst building their businesses but also those who are exempt due to income from pensions, redundancy and property rental. My first month self-employed I earned £645; my share of the rent was £375 and Council Tax was £68. Had I been living on my earnings as they were, I’d have had £202 to cover all other living expenses. Not to mention I’d just started a business, paying Insurance, marketing, travel. Had I not kept on my employed position, I would’ve very quickly ended up in my overdraft, struggling to make ends meet. To now be penalised for making smart life decisions just felt like a kick in the teeth.
My business survived because I worked hard. I reached out to clients, we worked via Zoom and I put together an online coaching course, which now has four different groups all working to meet their goals. I studied to better myself and did everything I could to support those who needed me. This was the only option I gave myself. Between my clients and my sister, I cannot ever thank them enough for pulling me through what has been the worst my business has faced so far.
To say that my business and I survived a Global Pandemic now feels like a badge of honour. I had to work, I had to survive and while we all trundle into a recession, the lack of funding towards the Leisure Sector is becoming more and more apparent. If I can give one piece of advice – if you know anyone who is self-employed; reach out, ask how they’re doing and how you can support them. Something as simple as sharing their content, reposting their hard work, it’s not always about the cash injection, but if you can, it might just be the thing that keeps them going.