It’s been a roller coaster ride the past couple of weeks – of intense emotions, of anger and resentment and learning to let go of things that were never truly mine. I’m officially separated now, and never have I ever been happier in my life. A friend asked me if it truly is happiness, but I guess if I could summarize it in one word, it would actually be *freedom.*
Freedom from outdated, insanely inhumane patriarchal beliefs, freedom from being boxed into a one-dimensional version of what I truly am. The freedom to choose what I wear, how long I’ll keep my hair, or cut it on the day I choose to, even on a Friday (insert dramatic gasp). The freedom to have a girl’s night out without having to stay over at a friend’s place but come back home to my own bed. The freedom to pick up a book and let the dirty dishes stew in the sink for an hour or two. The freedom to literally put my feet up at home, and not having to adjust my clothes to suit someone’s sense of decency. The freedom to write this blog and not having to take down a post because it has offended a distant relative’s sense of right and wrong.
The freedom to raise my daughter the way I’d like to, without religion and customs being shoved down her tiny throat. The freedom to let her eat what she wants, without having to give code-names. The freedom to let her choose her future, academic or otherwise and putting an end to the never-ending cycle of people-pleasing. The freedom to adopt whichever four-legged creature I’d want to. The freedom to openly admit that am agnostic and might always be.
The freedom to be my father’s daughter, and love my family as much as I want, and not be told that my priorities should change.
In essence, the freedom to just be. The freedom to be *me*
P.S. If you are said distant relative and are discussing this post with other said relatives, please, for f***k’s sake, move on and get a life!