Following the articles you might have seen on ITWeb about the incredible opportunity I had to travel with 11 other women IT entrepreneurs to the US on a training programme recently, I thought I'd backtrack a little and explain what motivated me to step into the Entrepreneurial Unknown three years ago.
I needed to work in an environment where I felt fully aligned with the principles and values. I'd only really felt comfortable with how one of the companies I'd worked for had put its values into practice. I'm very principled and have strong ideas on how people should behave professionally. I'd begun feeling that creating an environment of my own would be the only way to feel like I really belonged there. This concept was very appealing - and, to be honest, a relief.
I missed excitement. My work was sometimes interesting, often hectic and I would always get satisfaction from a job well done - but there was usually a spark missing. I'd long guessed that I was in the wrong job. Like an extreme sport, entrepreneurship seemed to combine excitement with a healthy dose of scariness - but this can be pretty addictive, as any white-water rafter will tell you. I was looking for energy, fun and variety.
My work lacked variety. Working in an agency, I interacted with the same 50-odd (yes, some were odd!) colleagues and clients each week. There wasn't a lot of variety in my work - despite different content on each project, my clients were finite and the processes were all repeated. I figured that going it alone would expose me to lots of new people, clients and ways of doing things.
Control makes me happy. I like to know that what happens in my life is a result of my actions. I don't like being forced to depend on others, preferring to choose who I work with. I had grown out of people telling me what I had to work on, for how long (at my desk by 8.30 or else...), where to do it (commute and cubicle, anyone?) and worst of all, how to do it. I was keen to give being my own boss a go and be 100% responsible for my successes and failures.
I'd had enough of commuting. In London I'd spent three hours a day travelling 12 miles, crammed into an underground train with thousands of other grumpy commuters. Driving in my own comfortable car for 1.5 hours a day in Cape Town's rush hour seemed like bliss in comparison. Until I realised that that was still a 90-minute daily commute - wasted time during which I couldn't even read the paper. Starting a company from a home office (at least initially) would mean getting that time back.
I'd begun feeling that creating an environment of my own would be the only way to feel like I really belonged there.
Jo Duxbury is founder of <a href="http://www.freelancentral.co.za/">www.freelancentral.co.za</a>
I could use my time better. Without office distractions, couldn't I get up to three times as much done every day? I'd be able to manage interruptions better and not be distracted by office politics and chat. And on those days when my 'productivity biorhythm' was out of synch with prescribed office hours, I wanted to be able to walk away from my computer, go out and do something else (non-work-related) and then make up for lost time later. And take the afternoon off if I'd finished my tasks for the day by lunchtime.
I wanted more flexibility. Who wouldn't want a boss who wouldn't mind if you popped to the bank on a Tuesday morning, or to the supermarket on a Thursday afternoon? Anyone who has been to Pick n Pay on a Saturday morning no doubt dreams of being able to run errands during the week. I knew that I would do what it took to get my work done, so the odd empty-cinema afternoon movie would be balanced by working to past 11pm.
I knew I could be more. As an advertising 'suit', my role was pigeonholed with little scope to grow beyond it. Suggestions I made outside my assigned area were dismissed or even met with hostility. A UK copywriter told me once that I had no right to correct his (terrible) grammar because I came from 'the colonies'. Going it alone would hopefully push me to do and achieve things I never realised I was capable of doing. And part of me wanted to challenge myself: do I have what it takes to make it on my own? Did I have unrealised potential?
I hated 'Sunday night blues'. That deflated feeling at the end of the weekend sucks. I wanted to wake up on a Monday morning and be excited about the work week ahead. Despite only knowing a few people who were passionate about what they did for a living, I wanted to see if I could join their minority ranks. The thought of working for another 30 years in a job that didn't fulfil me, scared me.
Ultimately, I had to plan for the future. Would statutory maternity leave be adequate if I have children? Would 20 leave days a year enable me to visit that long list of countries I keep adding to? There were a whole host of other dreams that 'work' was getting in the way of. Plus it was depressing to think that my income would be pretty much predictable for those 30 years. I wanted to have a go at earning what I thought I was really worth and setting up passive income streams that would see me through the extended trips to foreign countries and into my retirement.
So these are the main reasons I wrote that letter of resignation. If you've done it too, what were yours? This was my rosy view of entrepreneurship. I was in for some surprises!
* Jo Duxbury is founder of www.freelancentral.co.za. Contact her at jo@freelancentral.co.za.
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