Freedom?

I’ve worked most of my adult life for my independence.  

Getting my own car seemed like a huge step toward freedom.  I don’t think that’s changed for most teenagers. They see a vehicle as a way to get away.  (I was twenty one when I got my used Ford Fairlane) 

This is a Beautiful Version of the Junker I Owned

Working and putting money in a bank account was another way for me to seek independence.  I was working my way to college.  It seemed unreachable, but I pushed forward. Babysitting, restaurant work, summer jobs, after school jobs and singing.

My first marriage was a disaster.  After giving birth to my daughter, I knew I needed to get my freedom from my poisonous, lonely, married existence.

I didn’t hang on to that independence.  I remarried and again consented to have my freedom-wings clipped.  The compromise was all I knew marriage and raising children was at the time.  

After my spouse died, independence was forced on me.  I had to relearn.  Standing alone wasn’t something I chose.  The circumstances insisted I make my own decisions.  My two children were pursuing their careers and I was alone.

Reading, writing, counseling with sheer determination helped me feel strong enough to retire from teaching, move away from a town (I felt was stifling me) in order to start a new life for myself.

The last paragraph should be a three hundred page long list.  It wasn’t as easy as it looks described in one sentence.   Change was difficult enough, but the process involved a push and  pull not only from others but from my old, learned habit of keeping my lifestyle predictable to fit into society. 

I wouldn’t want to live excluded from society.  I just want to be able to make my own decisions with my own reasoning rather than to please the many groups of society I exist in. (family, friends, community, political structures…….) 

I was born seventh of ten siblings. In that birth-order I grew up surrounded with brothers who were closer to my age.  My sisters were older and most of my time was spent with male cousins and brothers.  I accepted name-calling, physical bullying and bribery so I could play with them.  I still wasn’t accepted as one of them, but most of the time I was able to avoid playing jump-rope, playing house and putting up with petty arguments the groups of girls in my neighborhood seemed to savor.  I was able to play neighborhood “War” with the boys, baseball, swimming at the marina, climbing trees and general mischief.

In elementary school, at the Catholic school I attended, the boys were not allowed to play with the girls.  We were separated by a huge slab of concrete. The girls wore dresses and were not permitted to move off the slab during recess.  The boys had the rest of the playground to run and play on.  It didn’t seem unfair at the time.  It was all I knew. 

It wasn’t until I was a junior in high school that I was able to wear pants to school.  It was public school but the dress code was strict.  My senior year we were allowed to wear jeans.  I didn’t even own a pair at the time! 

My early childhood experiences helped pave the way for the independence I now cherish as an older adult.  The freedom I’m still shaping, continues to be a burden as much as a gift. One of the most difficult concepts is to know the difference between being alone and loneliness.  I keep focused on the happiness I acquire  in making my own decisions without feeling my voice is controlled or silenced, by me or anyone else.

Today being the 4th of July made me think about freedom. I continue to struggle with issues of independence.  I see many of the rights for migrants, LGBT communities and women being restricted.  When I picture it in my mind I see a playground with cemented boundaries that holds one group of people on the cement and allows the other group to play freely in the rest of the space.

Celebrating today’s holiday makes me sad.  Name calling, bullying and bribery isn’t acceptable in my mind.  I’ve grown up.  My country has grown up, or so I thought.  There’s so much work to do.