The Shock of "Free"

No one told me that freedom could feel like lightning.

Or that it could take two years to hit.

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I. The Accident (Two Years in the Making)

It didn’t happen right away.

It took two full years of unlearning—two years of quiet nights, empty rooms, and figuring out who the hell I even was without someone orbiting me—while simultaneously trying to get him back like a scientist in some sappy, pathetic laboratory.

And then, one afternoon, talking to my mom about my friend Jason—nothing dramatic, just Jason—it hit me like lightning from Thor’s chiseled arm.

(I know that isn’t how it works, but isn’t the image of that arm just lovely?)

I’m allowed to have guy friends.

Just like that.

The sentence landed, and my whole body exhaled. I swear I dropped two thousand pounds in an instant. It was freedom disguised as an ordinary conversation.

No one was going to guilt me, accuse me, or side-eye my friend of years.

There was no ritual, no “self-love journey,” no soundtrack swelling in the background. Just a sudden, holy permission: to exist, connect, laugh, and not owe anyone an explanation.

And I hadn’t even been looking for it!

That’s when I realized—freedom doesn’t always show up loud. Sometimes she takes her sweet time, lets you wrestle your way through the rules you didn’t know you were living by… and then she whispers:

> “You can stop now.”

I was ecstatic. I felt like gravity barely had a hold of me.

I can sing, I can dance, I can buy whatever the hell I want!

I don’t need permission (gag me!).

I don’t need to ask or explain or apologize.

What is this? Why has no one told me about this?

I floated like Mary fuckin’ Poppins for days, weeks, years.

(If you’re not there yet, don’t worry. Freedom’s just circling the block, waiting for you to crack a window.)

So here I am, telling you, my gorgeous unknowing captive—there is freedom on the other side, and there is no joy like it.

-You're welcome ;)