FREEDOM MEANS CHOICE

In this new (decade-long, really) season of life where I have no idea what is coming, where it'll be, or who I'll become, a word has sat in my mind rent-free pretty much every day -- freedom.

A word more synonymous with America than perhaps any other and yet my experience here hasn't been all freedom and fireworks. Don't get me wrong, I have been very lucky. I have had a roof over my head, money in my account, people supporting, vouching for, and helping me over the years, but I have had many years of lack of freedom in my decisions if I wanted to remain in the United States. If I'd have just said, "Nah, I'm done with this" years ago, I would have had much more freedom, but I decided to stay because that is what I thought I needed to do. What was the point in going back when I'd been brought here in the first place? Wasn't that just giving up?

This mindset plagued me for years in that it held me hostage. I can't apply for any old job because I need my visa sponsored. I would be happy to get coffee for someone if it allowed me to show my work ethic and work up to where I need to be. Employers won't sponsor someone for a $10 an hour job as that is not cost-effective... and I get it. Again, none of this is necessarily bad because I have done alright despite these circumstances and I promise I am not trying to sound tone-deaf. The mere thought of what freedom means has just been on my mind and, of course, there are so many examples: financial freedom, social freedom, reproductive freedom, freedom from war, freedom from an abusive marriages or arranged marriages: so many elements of choice that we all deserve and all significantly more impactful than mine. Mine is a smaller lack of freedom -- freedom to choose my life path without all my decisions being forced on my desire to stay in one country -- but it's become big to me.

I imagine what it must be like to go, "you know what? I am just going to work in a coffee shop because that's what I want to do." No visa. No "will they sponsor me for this type of job?". No "I need to make sure I pick the right jobs because I have to fit as many things as possible since I am costing them extra money". I'd never even gotten to click a "citizen" box until a few months ago. It was so strange to know that the only thing I'd be evaluated on was me work and myself, not a piece of paper that says I am allowed to be here. 29 years of never being able to know what that felt like.

I started to imagine possibilities once I let go of the weight I'd put on my shoulders that determined that I HAD to be here at all costs, no matter the mental and physical turmoil. The weight that suggested I be happy with whatever life I have to take on because I am still here. I started to think how important that concept of choice was to me. And it was today that I was driving in my car and noticed a number plate to the side that said "FREEDUM". I laughed and looked to see the car directly in front of me with the sticker, "Freedom means choice". Two reminders of that word one after the other. I am not big on signs but maybe that was a clear one that the only way I will feel free (and happy!) is to own my choices and to make hard ones. Maybe the universe is urging me on to snap out of this complacency I've had with my life and to take a risk.

Freedom is an important word; one I've become very conscious of. Every time I drive now I think to myself, "So many women around the world are still not allowed to drive. Treasure being able to go to the store on your own when you want." Freedom is never grand, is it? The acts to achieve it may be -- wars, revolutions, etc. But the principle of freedom is so so small. Freedom ultimately is just the ability to make a choice. And a choice for yourself.

I have a lot to think about the next few months and I think it'll start with:

"What choices would you make it every one of them was free?"