Working as a nanny for the extremely wealthy, where you get to travel via private jets and earn over $100k annually, might seem like an ideal position. However, having spent 18 years in this role, let me assure you—it can often turn into a nightmare. From dealing with children who are verbally aggressive to being constantly monitored by their meticulous parents, not to mention surviving a kidnapping situation, every day presents new challenges.
I got into nannying By chance. After graduating with a degree in Psychology and Child Development at age 25, I initially intended to secure employment within the NHS. However, following two consecutive summers working as a temporary nanny for an affluent household via a nannaying agency, they extended me a full-time position. This particular family had recently acquired significant wealth from a lucrative business transaction amounting to £20 million.
I put in 12-hour shifts, working five days each week, earning an annual salary of £30,000, which felt substantial back then. The accommodation they provided me with was one of their extra bedrooms; although compact—just large enough for a single bed—and minimalistic, I received £200 upon moving in to visit IKEA and pick up furnishings to add comfort and character to my space.
My initial job really set the bar high; I worked close to my childhood home in Chelsea, looking after three wonderful children whose parents were laid-back. Since I was young back then, those lengthy workdays weren’t an issue, leaving plenty of room for a vibrant social scene. Despite being content with everything, I yearned for fresh challenges and decided to move on after two productive years. Eventually, I secured a position as part of a dedicated team. nannies for a billionaire , learning about the opening from another nanny.
I found out that personal referrals and connections play a significant role in the nanny industry. While there are job listings available online, roles working for ultra-wealthy families are seldom publicly posted; instead, these positions typically come about via agencies or trusted recommendations. Often, success hinges more on your network than on your qualifications when trying to secure such jobs.
The shift from being employed by a rather affluent household to a filthy-rich one It felt like my head was spinning. Besides moving to Windsor, I joined a workforce of 60 people, which comprised chefs, housekeepers, security personnel, and even a dedicated personal shopper. Even though there were many employees, the household remained disorganized, with international trips sometimes being planned just a few hours ahead. The thrill of being escorted right up to a private jet never fades, and it’s certainly more relaxed compared to maneuvering through Terminal 5.
I experienced an unexpected increase in my salary, nearly doubling overnight. However, dealing with the teenagers was challenging as they seemed incapable of handling basic tasks independently. Their lack of practical abilities stemmed from having staff attend to all their needs without requiring effort on their part. Forming connections with them proved difficult, likely due to their tendency to insult me regularly—often referring to me dismissively as "a stupid cow." Additionally, they would frequently drop food on the ground and instruct me to clean it up, saying things like, “cleaning up after us is your job since we pay you for this.”
I'd like to think that handling the entitlement issues from those kids was somewhat eased by the Cartier watch their parents gifted me at Christmas (a timepiece valued at £12,000 which I discovered later). However, deep down, I believed I deserved it.
When you hear the word “nanny,” People frequently view me as nothing more than an elevated nanny. There were moments when my responsibilities included overseeing a timetable so meticulously planned it might make a CEO envious. My role encompassed being both a sleep coach and a private instructor, along with managing meltdowns and serving as the primary emotional anchor for the child. Additionally, I have participated in parent-teacher conferences without hesitation since, honestly, I tend to be more familiar with the child’s behavior than their own parents do.
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Despite my competence in my role, I'm frequently aware that I could be replaced if I step out of place. Occasionally, some parents have viewed me more as an object than a person. There was one instance where a mother invited me to meet her friends over coffee just to demonstrate how comfortable she was having such a "attractive young nanny." This left me feeling uncomfortable and degraded, and our working relationship never fully healed after that incident.
Suspicious parents are commonplace nowadays. I've encountered spy cameras placed by guardians, frequently stumbling upon them unintentionally. These devices tended to be discreetly installed within wall clocks and were typically spotted in kitchens, children's bedrooms, and recreational spaces. While I understand caregivers' desire to observe my interactions, their covert methods puzzle me. In one instance, the mother contacted or messaged me over ten times daily to point out perceived mistakes, such as how I sliced her child’s fruit. It baffles me. part of the job But at times, I felt like saying, "If you're not happy with what I'm doing, go ahead and do it yourself!"
I've been employed by individuals who consistently rank high on the "Rich List" yet remain relatively unknown to most people. This altered when I began working for a famous athlete; this position put me in fear of my safety following an incident where a deranged fan tried to take the children.
Kidnap threat
As I approached the car where the kids were already seated, a masked individual pulled me down forcefully and ordered me for the car keys. I responded that he could have the vehicle, noting that there were children in the rear seat. He replied chillingly, "That's precisely why I'm here," sending shivers down my spine. We always had protection whenever we went out as a group, but never when it was only us and the little ones.
Panicked, I delivered a forceful kick to the man’s ankle, momentarily dazing him as I shouted for assistance. Fortunately, someone passing by intervened with the unarmed individual just as I contacted both law enforcement and my superiors; they appeared equally worried about the brand-new Range Rover as they did regarding their offspring. To prepare for potential repeat incidents, I enrolled in a self-defense class. Happily, these acquired skills have remained unused since then.
Being a nanny has provided me with amazing chances. I've journeyed across all five continents and have been hosted at luxurious yachts and exclusive private islands. However, whenever I'm accompanying the family, it feels more like they're on vacation rather than myself. Regardless of where we go, my responsibilities stay consistent.
I was previously on vacation with my relatives when the night nanny I came down with an illness bug, leaving me on constant standby around-the-clock. One morning at 3 am, I was roused from sleep due to the toddler’s cries; her parents couldn't find the bottle she uses for comfort. On another occasion, I found myself getting out of bed thrice during the night as the parents felt disturbed by noises coming from their child, who misplaced her teddy bear. After finally locating the teddy, I relocated both the child and myself farther away from the parents within the home so everyone could have some quiet time.
The most enjoyable experience during my time as a nanny involved traveling to New York City with one of the kids I cared for, who was relocating there to begin her college studies. Over the course of a memorable weekend, we explored Manhattan together, going from shops to tourist attractions. It truly felt more like leisure than labor.
I've always been employed in the UK, but when the family I cared for decided to relocate to San Francisco due to the pandemic, I happily moved along with them. However, soon afterward, I started feeling confined. In previous positions, even though I lived with various families, I still managed to spend quality time with my own family frequently and maintain some semblance of personal life beyond just working hours. Three months into living in America, my mother received a diagnosis of cancer, which made me realize what needed to be done. The thought of being unable to support her throughout her treatments from such an enormous distance became unbearable, despite how much I enjoyed my role. Therefore, I chose to step down from my position so I could be closer to home and provide essential care and emotional support during this challenging period.
Now in my 40s, I've had the experience of working for ten different households. These days, I enforce clear limits: I do not take jobs that require me to be available overnight or during weekends, nor do I reside within the employer’s home or remain reachable outside designated work hours. This might appear stringent, yet such restrictions help prevent burnout for me.
My salary has gone up with each position, and thanks to my expertise and track record, I currently pull in £150,000 annually. It might sound substantial, yet this comes at a cost. I've been absent from friends' weddings and their newborns’ arrivals, found it tough to sustain meaningful romances, and haven’t started a family myself. In my youth, starting a family was something I desired, but back then, all I could focus on was my career I never imagined having the time to take off work for raising my kids. Nowadays, I think it’s something I missed doing when the opportunity was available.
The most challenging part of this job is leaving. Often, it's necessary to move on when the kids become independent, but sometimes it's due to difficult employers. Regardless of the circumstances, I always feel a connection with each household where I've provided care, making farewells just as tough each time.
I've made an effort to become financially prudent so I can retire early. I manage to set aside over 60 percent of my income, invest in several rental properties, and dream about extensive travels once I stop working. The transition back into regular civilian life after retiring—without the perks like having a personal chef or access to a fueled jet—will likely come as quite a surprise. Despite the savings I’ve accumulated, I doubt they'll be enough for me to live luxuriously on a private island.
