FREEDOM LOOKS DIFFERENT NOW

There was a time when I thought freedom was a goal – a specific milestone I would reach, unlock, and hold onto forever. But looking back across the chapters of my life, I’ve realized that freedom isn’t a fixed point on a map. It’s a shape-shifter. It changes as we change, adapting to whatever our souls are starving for at any given time.

If you asked my childhood self what freedom meant, she wouldn’t have given you a deep, philosophical answer. She would have pointed out the window. As a little girl, I spent so much time indoors, carefully shielded from the sun so I wouldn’t get too dark, get bitten by mosquitoes or scrape my knees. To me, freedom was a forbidden playground. It was the wild, unfiltered joy of running outside with the neighborhood kids – shouting, shrieking, dodging a touchball, jumping over a stretched Chinese garter, or aiming a worn-out slipper just right to send a tin can flying in a game of tumbang preso. Back then, freedom smelled like sunshine, sounded like laughter, and ended with scraped knees I wore like trophies.

Back then, life was practically a five-star, all-inclusive resort. Food was prepped and placed in front of me. The house was cleaned, the laundry was magically folded, and my parents handed me a weekly allowance. My only real responsibility was to study and do well in school.

And my biggest daily tragedy? Afternoon naps and forced meals.

I fought so hard against those plates of cooked vegetables. I resented the forced rest. I shook my head and told myself, “I can’t wait to grow up, do this and that, and finally be in control.” Oh, the irony of it all! Haha! If only that little girl knew the trade-off she was begging to make!

As the years ticked by, freedom took on a new shape: independence without a chaperone. It was the thrill of going to the mall with just “us girls,” stretching a carefully budgeted allowance on movie tickets, food court snacks, and endless laughing until it was time to head home.

It was the quiet rebellion of the landline phone – sitting on the floor, stretching that long, coiled plastic cord around the hallway corner so my parents wouldn’t hear me whisper, chatting away late into the night on a school night, pushing my curfew to the absolute limit.

Eventually, childhood adventures gave way to bigger milestones. Graduation came, jobs followed, and before I knew it, adulthood had arrived. Freedom suddenly had a brand-new meaning: the swipe of a card loaded with my very own “adult money.” Graduating from college and landing a job brought an intoxicating rush. For the first time, no one could tell me what to do. Freedom was ordering whatever I wanted off the menu, buying things without asking for permission, eating out, and booking every trip under the sun. I had unlocked the adult world, and I was eager to spend my way through it.

But the high of spending eventually gave way to the heavy machinery of adulthood. A few years later, the corporate ladder, the pursuit of status, the crowded rooms of acquaintances and so-called friends, and the societal expectations of “success” started to feel less like achievements and more like a gilded carousel cage.

I remember looking around one day and realizing I had achieved many of the things I once dreamed about…yet somehow felt more trapped than ever.

So, freedom shifted again. This time, it demanded radical action. I walked away from society’s demands and chose to start completely over in a foreign land. I had no solid plans in mind, no safety nets, just a raw desire to make a change and see where life would go. Dropping the status and stepping into the terrifying unknown was the ultimate assertion of control. It was my way of proving that my life belonged to me.

The Ultimate Full Circle

Which brings me to right now.

After all the chasing, the climbing, the running, the spending, and the starting over, life handed me the keys to total independence… and then quietly handed me the invoice. 

Today, as I face the endless cycle of cooking, cleaning, bills, and deciding what to have for dinner for the thousandth time, I have to laugh at how life works.

Life gives you exactly what you thought you wanted and gently asks: “So, do you still want this?”

The answer isn’t to run away again. It’s to realize that freedom isn’t a call for action at all anymore.

These days, freedom means having absolute, uninterrupted free time.. It is the luxury of sitting by myself, looking out into space, appreciating my plants, working on my art, feeling calm, and being entirely at peace. No lingering to-do lists pulling at my sleeve, no corporate ladders to climb, no social points to prove – just a quiet room, a warm blanket, an empty calendar, and the rare permission to simply be.