May 1st Through the Eyes of a Digital Nomad
A reflection on rights, freedom, and the challenges of remote work on a day dedicated to workers around the world.
As a digital nomad, May 1st—International Workers’ Day—feels both familiar and paradoxical. While it’s a public holiday in many countries, marked by marches, speeches, and calls for labor rights, for people like me—who carry their offices in backpacks and work from co-working spaces in Bali or cafés in Lisbon—it brings up questions that traditional employment models rarely address.
For most of my adult life, I’ve worked remotely. I’ve sent emails from mountain cabins in Italy, joined client calls from Bangkok hostels, and finished projects on trains between cities. I don’t clock in, I don’t clock out. I don’t have a boss in the conventional sense. And yet, on May 1st, I’m reminded that I am a worker, even if the structure of my work looks very different from that of the laborers commemorated in 19th-century Chicago or modern-day unionists.
The digital nomad lifestyle is often painted in romantic tones—freedom, adventure, flexibility. And yes, those things are real. But so are the challenges: irregular income, lack of job security, no health benefits, and often, no legal protections. Unlike traditional workers, we rarely have the backing of a union or collective bargaining power. We don’t get paid time off, sick leave, or unemployment insurance. In many cases, we operate in a legal gray zone, crossing borders while working online, taxed nowhere and everywhere at once.
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So what does May 1st mean for people like us?
It’s a reminder to pause and reflect not just on the freedoms we’ve gained through remote work, but also on the rights we lack—and the solidarity we still need. The gig economy, remote work, and freelancing are not immune to exploitation. In fact, they often obscure it under the guise of independence. Low pay, late payments, scope creep, and burnout are widespread, and they rarely make headlines.
But May 1st also carries hope. Around the world, digital workers are starting to organize—forming online communities, advocating for fair pay, pushing platforms to be more transparent, and even unionizing. Some countries are adapting their labor laws to account for remote and freelance workers, and there's growing awareness of the need for portable benefits and protections.
Personally, I mark May 1st not by taking the day off—because, frankly, I often can’t afford to—but by checking in with myself and my fellow nomads. I ask: Am I valuing my own labor? Am I setting fair boundaries with clients? Am I supporting others in this lifestyle who might not have the same privileges I do?
Because in the end, being a digital nomad doesn’t mean we’re outside the labor force—it just means we’re part of a new frontier of it. And if May 1st is about anything, it’s about ensuring that all workers, no matter where or how they work, are seen, heard, and treated with dignity.