What does freedom mean to you?

When I opened the app to check how the blog is doing, my eyes were immediately drawn to this question. Although the option was there from the start of my blogging adventure, the option to answer a random given question I mean, it never caught my eye. But when I saw this, my heart started aching. Why? Because I haven’t felt free in quite a while. 2020, as unusual as this may be, was the last time I felt like I am the master of my own destiny.

During lockdown I used to go for long walks in the park, listening to music or podcasts, I cleaned the house when I felt like it, I ate when I was hungry, I watched a lot of TV series and I danced alone in my apartment. I was alone, as alone as I ever had been, but it was truly wonderful. Of course, if you had asked me during that period if I feel free, I would have probably said no. Influenced by mass media and by the fear surrounding all the events, I felt captive and restricted. Little did I now…

Trying now to answer the question at hand, maybe this is a starting point. I feel free when I am alone. No schedule to stick to, no other preferences to satisfy, no expectations to fulfill, no needs to cater. Being by myself and doing stuff alone is a great manifestation of freedom. Maybe this idea is now more activated in my mind because it has been a while since I’ve done something outside the house all by myself. It’s been a while since I’ve visited a city all by myself. It’s been a while since I’ve went on an adventure.

Related to traveling, another manifestation of freedom has to be driving. Nothing really beats the feeling of changing the gear, the rush I get when I feel the power of my car, the sense of endless possibilities that driving a car gives me. I love my red car and I adore driving it. It makes me feel mature, safe, brave and free.

Since some of these activities have been harder to do, I was forced to find freedom in other ones. I still remember the taste of a chocolate pretzel I ate last year, the first time I had the courage to take the bus by myself and go in the city center for a stroll. I stil remember how I cried with joy the first time I took out the trash by myself. I still remember how it felt to go to the supermarket by myself after months of my mother being my personal delivery service.

So, yes, now freedom is in the small stuff, the small victories, the buying cat food by myself, the going to the park for a stroll, the managing to pick something up or do a squat without being afraid I’ll fall. But, most of all, freedom is in this blog. My life and the shit that happened forced me to start doing something that I should have been doing long time ago. Talk and write and express myself and compose and create and feel.

When I first heard that Jules Verne never left his home town, but managed to write some of the most amazing adventure books for children, I thought that he was a loser. Now, I start to understand that freedom is a feeling, not necessarily an ability to do stuff. Some people are captive in the wilderness and others are free in a cage. It’s a matter of perspective.

What does freedom mean to me? Well, some days it’s getting out of bed, other days it’s eating a pretzel. Some days it’s going for a walk around my block, other days it’s driving to the supermarket. Some days it’s binging on a TV show, other days it’s seeing my friends. What do these activities have in common? That I’m alive and able to do them. So, freedom is life and health. Freedom is love and possibility. Freedom is alone or together. Freedom is the chance to choose and the courage to act on that choice.