FREEDOM ... another point of view !
The story of Sonja …
My family and friends all thought I was crazy when I would say : “ I wish I had more freedom to be me !” I knew nothing but what I had in my life … all the best things , things that any normal person would give their teeth for , so they said . Yes , my home life left nothing to be desired with a big house , big bedroom of my own with a bathroom just for me . My mother was a superb cook who knew everything there was to know about health , nutrition and presentation of our meals . It was never a problem having friends come over to eat and have a sleep over because my parents were welcoming of that . I was driven to school every day in a comfortable car with all the latest and greatest of features and when any new technology came into vogue , we were one of the first households to acquire it . My school was a private one with great teachers and my grades were worthy of the odd award here and there . Clothes were plentiful in my cupboard and if there was a special event , I simply went to the shops and bought something new to wear , along with the accessories to match . Everything was ordered and easy ! So , you may be thinking , what was the problem ! My problem was that while I had a good life , I simply didn ’ t know who I really was . Was I just a replica of the family gone before , because of my genes or was I a unique person with special and significant traits of my own ? I had to find out .
It was a rather cold and unfriendly night when I set out to go into town to investigate what “ life ” was really all about , at the age of 16 . I had every intention of going home again , so it came as quite a surprise to me , as well as my family , when I phoned them the next morning to say I had spent the night with some special people in the city and had gone home to their share house to see how the “ other half ” live . The real shock came when I said that I was going to stay there for one week or so , to explore more of what motivated these people and scurrilously requested that Mum please let my high school patron know that this was “ research ”. It was done ! Now I could really find out what substance I had , as I thought I could make some kind of a difference .
The lifestyle seemed so “ free ” and I could do whatever my heart desired … I was standing on the doorstep of freedom ! Or so I thought . It wasn ’ t long before I found out that the shoe was on the other foot .
The people I now lived with didn ’ t have a lifestyle at all and certainly no motivation to action . What they had was a lazy style , a style that had no rules , no control and I had no rights to be the person I felt I was . An identity crisis is what I was confronted with .
My life had gone backwards fast with no healthy food , no time limits , no privacy , no character building or the ability to change anything for the better . In all the hostility that hung in the air in that share house I did get to know a lovely young woman who taught me , indirectly , that freedom needed discipline in order to have life ’ s options , education in order to make decisions about the future and all about someone to love and care for us .
Lilly had a very short family life with her parents and because of the intimidating influence of her home life where abuse of one kind and another ruled everyone , every day , Lilly was taken away from her mother and put into a foster home where she had to learn another set of “ rules ” to try to comply with in order to please her carer and show her “ worth ”. At the age of 15 Lilly took to the streets with nothing but her clothes , a sleeping bag and $ 50 in her purse that happened to have “ fallen ” out of her carer ’ s bag ! During the year that followed , Lilly had couchsurfed in so many different places she had lost count . In doing so she had also lost her dignity , lost her friends , lost her trust and her ability to get back on track with her life . It was when Lilly said “ All I want is the freedom to be myself , get an education and show what I can do with my life ” that it hit me like a brick … freedom was just about everything I had left behind in order to “ find ” freedom .
Needless to say , my next phone call was to my poor , depressed mother and father . They had never stopped looking out for me . I always had money in my account in the 6 months I was away from them but I hadn ’ t given them anything in return , not even my company , occasionally . When I stopped to think about it they had allowed me to do what I needed to do , in order to find out what was going to sustain me as the unique person I believed I was . They gave me the freedom to disrupt my education , to live a lifestyle that others had no choice about . What had l learned ? All I learned was how to fall into a mold that stifled me and my abilities .
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