Sometimes I genuinely don't understand whether my family is open-minded or a little narrow-minded.
My mother often says, “We have given you so much freedom.”
And I know she means it. She genuinely feels that I have been given freedom that many girls don't get.
But sometimes I look at my life and think, "Where exactly is that freedom?"
If I want to go somewhere, I usually have to tell them well in advance. Then come the hundred questions:
Where are you going?
With whom?
Why do you need to go?
When will you come back?
Who else will be there?
And after answering everything, it still doesn't necessarily mean that I can go.
Sometimes, if they feel it's okay, I can go. And if they don't, then I simply stay home.
What makes it more complicated is that their decision is not always just their own. Sometimes it depends on what my brothers think. If they feel I should go, things may be okay. If they don't, then I probably won't go.
Even when it comes to something as important as a job, sometimes the first question isn't “Do you want to do this?”
It's “Is this job right for you?”
And someone else gets to decide the answer.
I don't say any of this with anger towards my family. Actually, I understand where they are coming from. I know they care about me. I know they want to protect me. They have lived longer than I have, they have seen things I haven't, and they understand the world in ways that I may not.
And I am genuinely grateful for everything my family has done for me. There are no hard feelings here. But sometimes I think there is one thing parents might forget while trying to protect their children:
Experience cannot always be transferred.
You can tell me that the world is difficult.
You can tell me that people aren't always good.
You can tell me what mistakes I should avoid.
You can tell me what you have learned from your own experiences.
And I will listen.
But at some point, I also need to experience the world myself. Because how will I know what is right for me if I am never allowed to find out? Maybe something that didn't work for you might work for me. Maybe something you think is unsafe might teach me something valuable. Maybe I will make a mistake. And honestly, maybe I need to make some mistakes.
Because everyone's life is different. Everyone has different circumstances, different personalities, different dreams, and different ways of understanding things.
Your experience is yours.
Mine will be mine.
I don't think giving someone freedom means never worrying about them. Parents will always worry. That's part of loving someone.
But maybe freedom means letting someone make some decisions for themselves while knowing that they can come back to you if things go wrong.
I don't want my family to stop caring about me.
I don't want them to stop giving me advice.
I just want them to understand that protecting me from every possible experience might also mean protecting me from the opportunity to learn.
Because one day, I will have to live in this world on my own.
And when that day comes, I don't want to know the world only through the experiences my family allowed me to have.
I want to know it through my own experiences too.
And maybe that's not rebellion.
Maybe that's simply growing up.
This is just my personal perspective. I am not writing this to blame my family or say that they are wrong. I know that, at the end of the day, they want the best for me, and I am genuinely grateful for them. I just feel that sometimes love and protection also need to leave a little space for a person to experience life on their own.
Disclaimer: All images featured in this blog were generated using AI. Translations were assisted by Google Translate.