One property of money is fungibility: a dollar is a dollar. To the bank, whether you or I make $10,000 working for ourselves, or $10,000 working for the worst boss in the world, it’s the same $10,000.
Still, the way you and I make this money is not interchangeable. We know this inherently; for example, you may quit a job that pays an incredible amount of money because you can’t stand the working situation. Similarly, no amount of money is worth breaking the law.
To me, every dollar I earn independently is worth two dollars that I earned on salary. A skeptic might say, teleologically, that’s the story I tell myself in order to keep doing independence; I’d also remind them that I don’t have a bedtime, I have control over who I work with, and how I spend my time and energy.
If you’re ever to do work as an independent, you’ll need to appreciate this: an independent dollar is more difficult to earn, and certainly more valuable from a life perspective. You’re building the business and psychological skills that enable you to operate freely in the world of capitalism; you’re switching ladders.
This comes contrary to what I’d consider a popular independence narrative, which is that you’re sure to make more money when you start your own business. Most of the time, this narrative is pushed by people who rely on you buying into this belief—and subsequently their course—so they can make money independently.
You possibly—probably!—will make more money going independent. Just don’t count on it happening on day one, year one, or even year five.
Even still, that independence may not be the full independence you’d wish for; it takes a long time to make money purely from your creative endeavors. (Every dollar I earn on royalties through my books or Medium is worth way more! The bank won’t accept this explanation though.)
It’s a decision that only you can make. For me, I’ve worked in a corporation (Fortune 500), inside a startup, and I can tell you happily that every independent dollar is worth it to me.