Stories we tell: Enjoyment & Compensation
“So, what did you tell her you charge?” Bryan asked, as he poured himself a glass of sparkling water, “Two grand?”
I let out a quick awkward laugh and turned away to grab my own glass on the counter, “No! I basically just gave her my copy writing hourly rate and then said I would do the whole website for $250.”
“What?” Bryan’s face was as outraged as his voice.
“It’s only a few pages, it won’t take that long.” The justification was clear in my tone.
He leaned back against the counter, “It’ll take twice as long as you think.”
“It’s fine. I like doing it. I’d be happy to do it for $250. It’s fun for me. I mean, I enjoy it anyway, so it’s fine.”
It wasn’t until later in the day, thinking back on the conversation, that I realized the error in my logic, or maybe more accurately the error in my belief. Did you catch it?
I enjoy doing the work.
So, it’s not really work.
Therefore, I don’t really deserve, or need, to be paid for it — or at least not much.
When did the idea sneak into my subconscious that something being enjoyable and fun means it’s not deserving of compensation? When did I start equating not enjoying something with work worthy of being paid, and enjoyment as work worthy of being given away?
As a society we talk about the importance of finding work you enjoy, and say things like “if you love your work, you’ll never work a day in your life.” Maybe we’ve missed something though. We’re so busy telling each other the importance of finding enjoyable work, that we forget there’s a whole lot of complex beliefs underlying that sentiment. If we really believed work should be enjoyable, we wouldn’t need to tell each other so often the importance of finding that kind of work. Perhaps, if we really believed it was possible to find work we enjoy that much, we wouldn’t feel so cynical (and envious) of those who claim to enjoy their work.
We forget about what happens after you find work you enjoy. What happens when you find work you love, but fail to find the belief that you are worthy of being compensated for that work? Or still hold a false belief that enjoyment is payment in and of itself.
This belief that enjoyment is better than compensation, that if you enjoy the work then you don’t need or deserve to be compensated…well, it’s the kind of belief that I don’t want my children to hold. It’s the kind of false belief I would call out in my friends, as I remind them about the value they bring to their world through their work AND through their enjoyment of their work. But, in myself…
These sorts of beliefs are hard to weed out. They have deep roots. They go back decades. Culturally, maybe centuries.
Even our language equates work with toil, with labor, with effort, even with drudgery — that’s right drudgery is a synonym for work in our English thesaurus! So how do we reprogram that thinking. How do we stop feeling shame or guilt about being compensated for something we enjoy, something that feels more like play than work? I don’t really know.
But, maybe it starts by recognizing when we’re making those false equations in our minds. Maybe it starts with yelling out “stop!” and switching around the variables.
Work = toil = $
STOP!
Work = play = $
Is it bad that I sort of had trouble even just writing out that equation, and then when I re-read this again I almost deleted it? It feels so ridiculous to me, I kind of want to laugh, and blush (?), and berate myself, “who do you think you are to think play could be compensated?”
I told you, the roots of this false belief go deep.
For now, I’m probably still gonna under charge people when they ask my rates — I don’t have the confidence or long term evidence-driven experience to do otherwise. But, maybe in time, slowly, I’ll be able to start valuing the work I do and the work I offer others.
Maybe as I change I’ll be able to show my children something different, a delight in work that doesn’t result in the “starving artist” stereotype, but in a thriving adult confident in both their enjoyment of the work and the value they are bringing to the table.
Maybe…?
For now if you’re looking for a squarespace designer, apparently I’m on sale. Haha.
Grace and peace,
Bethany