I’ve noticed that the more limits I set for myself, the freer I feel.
No TV with lunch. No computer or phone after 10pm. No games installed on my phone at all.
It sounds miserable, I know.
We work hard and save money so that one day we can finally do whatever we want, right?
And yet here I am, with nobody telling me what to do, voluntarily writing up a pile of rules for myself. Like I’ve locked myself in a cell.
But every time I live like this for a few days, even though it’s uncomfortable at first, I always end up feeling better. My head is quieter, and I actually get some of the things done that I care about.
Then I find an excuse to drop the rules one by one, and my life slides back into chaos. I can’t focus in the afternoon. My thumb scrolls the phone until midnight on its own. In those moments I’m technically “doing whatever I want,” yet I can’t quite remember what it is I want. It doesn’t feel like I’m the one making the choices. Something is pushing me along.
I always thought freedom meant nobody controlling me, doing whatever I want, whenever I want.
But if that’s true, why does getting more of that kind of freedom leave me feeling more out of control, more like something else is running the show?
Maybe it’s the other way around. What actually traps me is that wide open field where anything is possible. It’s crowded with temptations, and everywhere I turn something is trying to pull me away. And the rules I mistook for a prison? They clear out a small, quiet space.
Maybe that’s the one place I’m actually free.
