Here in good ole America, it’s the 4th of July. A day you celebrate independence and freedom…or whatever.
Current thoughts on that aside…yesterday, I was watching my son and really thinking about what that means, what independence means.
I was watching my 5 year old son play outside yesterday and he started getting frustrated and upset. His feet were hurting, his legs were tired, and he just couldn’t keep going.
I reminded him that “you know, that’s why you have your wheelchair. For when you feel like this.”
His face lit up and he asked me if he could bring it outside to play, which he then did. And he was just so happy. He could play and be a kid without being limited by his physical body.
And for my son, that was freedom.
Then I started thinking about what freedom looked like for me. And to be honest, I’m still thinking about it. Because I’m not really sure.
This morning started off on the wrong foot. My husband was in a mood, and I took it personally. Because of course I did. And it set my entire day off to be bad and hurtful, instead of accepting his willingness to move past it. And I think that’s where I need to grow.
I need the freedom to not be SO affected and upset by other people. The freedom to be happy, to be ME (whoever the fuck that is) without fear or worry about judgment from others. Without being bound by the emotional experiences of others. To just be…me.
Free to feel however I feel, whenever I feel it.
The freedom to feel.
I have always struggled so much when things aren’t…well, good, I guess. I get worried and anxious and feel like it’s all my fault, that everything is my fault, and that nothing will ever be good again. Instead of just accepting that sometimes, things aren’t perfect. And it doesn’t have to be all or nothing.
I wish I had the freedom to feel, independently of others.
July 4th is when I met my husband for the first time 7 years ago. And today means a lot to me for that reason alone. So I wish it had started better. Last night we went on a “date” to Barnes and Noble so I could get more books (and Starbucks, of course), and it was my favorite part of the week.
I want to hold onto the good, and forget the not so good, but that’s hard for me. It’s hard for me to accept, and trust, that people mean what they say when they apologize, or try to do better.
But today, maybe I can focus on that, and keep working on those feelings of “freedom”, and what that means for me.
I wish I was better at feeling for myself, without such heavy influence on others experiences, but for today, maybe it’s good enough that I’m working on it.
Freedom looks different on all of us. Don’t forget that. And don’t let what makes you feel free be influenced by anyone else.
We all experience life differently. For my son, freedom is not being bound by his physical body. For me, it’s the freedom to feel truly and honestly.
Whatever freedom feels like for you, I hope you allow yourself to appreciate it fully, and accept it.