How I Found an Apartment As a Freelancer

For seven months last year, I had a plan. After back-to-back rentals with roommates, I was ready for a place of my own. I could already see it: a small 1-bedroom with lots of sunlight, a porch where I could read in the mornings, tucked away on a quiet side street. I would spend my days watering plants and working at my desk and my nights cooking and crafting. An apartment happily ever after. 

When I tried finding an apartment, I discovered I wasn’t in a quirky property-centric romcom, but a gritty noir thriller. I heard an invisible clock ticking when I scrolled through online listings. The spaces I was able to tour had windowless kitchens, peeling window frames, and shoebox bedrooms that faced busy streets. Real estate brokers would gently suggest that if I was really interested in a place, I could offer to pay more; instead of $1750, $1900.

I had an added complication: I was self-employed. Instead of a W-2 or letter of employment, I had a bundle of paystubs from several clients to prove to landlords that I was making three times the rent. The extra time it took to explain my situation — I’m a freelance writer, I can show paystubs from my clients to prove income — added friction to the process.

Some landlords understood my situation immediately. But others paused, wary of the word freelancer. They assumed that my income wasn’t stable and that I was a risky bet. The question hung silently in the air: Will you be able to afford rent if your business slows down? When I mentioned I had a guarantor, brokers and landlords alike relaxed. I was no longer a risk. By having a guarantor, I offered them the assurance that my rent would get paid no matter what. But I left those interactions feeling uneasy.

The hardest part was I knew that my income did fluctuate throughout the year, sometimes from quarter to quarter and sometimes from month to month. To weather it, I would need the equivalent of a few months of rent in savings. I had lived in Boston for six years by that point. I was always joining existing leases, taking the open spot in an apartment; I only needed first and last and an application fee to move into the spaces. But getting an apartment on my own meant I had to grapple with the dreaded first, last, security, and broker fees that are typical when apartment hunting for the first time. Could I drain my savings and checking to sign for an apartment knowing I needed that cushion

As I tallied up the costs, I thought of more ways to make money. I continued freelance writing, I fact-checked for a trivia company, and I worked at a wine shop a few nights per week. Even though I had a healthy amount of money hitting my bank account every week — enough to save 40% of every paycheck and still cover my costs — the fear of a slow month or quarter and a looming $2k rent payment followed me. Underneath the stress, a question nagged at me: Is this really worth it?

When I found a 1-bedroom apartment in my neighborhood with a large kitchen and separate living room on a quiet side street, I pushed down my doubts. Yes, it was $1950, more than I had ever paid for an apartment, but wasn’t it what I had been looking for for months?

I gathered all of my financial paperwork and sent it to the broker. In a message, he said, “If you have some type of liquid 401k or IRA that has a decent amount in it, you might want to share that.” He wanted to send the landlord as much information as possible about my financial situation, to show that I could cover the apartment even if my income faltered. Would he have asked someone with a full-time job to do the same?

The next day, he brought me the bad news: The landlord had gone with someone else. The broker was upbeat, ready to rally me further in the process. I thanked him but I wanted to throw my phone at the wall. All of the doubts, frustrations, and resentments that had been building throughout the entire process rushed forth. And I still needed to leave my current apartment.

I started thinking about what I wanted to do with my time and my money. The pandemic had kept me in my city for the past three years. I wanted to see a new part of the world and explore. I wanted to live in a place where I had space, indoor and outdoor. I wanted to be able to control my own thermostat.

This story has an ending fit for an indie film: I didn’t get the 1-bedroom I had imagined for myself. In fact, in the process of looking at 1-bedrooms, my priorities shifted. I found a 4-bedroom house looking for a roommate a week after I was rejected from that 1-bedroom apartment. My rent would be a cool $920 per month, over $1,000 less than the 1-bedrooms. With the money I was saving in rent, I could pack my bags for a two-week trip and head to Europe.

I signed the paperwork to join that lease in April, letting me avoid the crush of September 1 movers. And I have many of the things that I want, while also having the financial flexibility to save

If you find yourself in a similar position while apartment hunting, here are some tips I can offer: