Freedom

In my 20s, 30s and 40s, all I wanted was the freedom to travel, make my own decisions, and live without constantly being held back by my mother's protectiveness. I often felt frustrated whenever I was told what I should or shouldn't do. Sometimes, I felt she still saw me as a little girl instead of a grown woman.

Over the past few years, she had gradually become less protective, but by then I no longer wanted to leave her. I felt responsible for her happiness and well-being. It wasn't always easy. There was a constant inner conflict between what I wanted for myself and what I willingly gave up for her sake.

Now she's gone, and I have all the freedom I once longed for. I can go wherever I want and do whatever I want. Yet somehow, that freedom doesn't bring me any happiness. It's such a strange feeling... one I can't even describe properly. Emptiness. Hollowness. Numbness. A void. It's almost as if the freedom I spent years longing for only had meaning when she was still here.

What I find even stranger is that I wasn't actually very close to my mum in the way many daughters are. I rarely shared what was happening in my life, and I hardly ever opened up to her about my feelings. I've always found it difficult to express my emotions, and I think I inherited that from her because she struggled to express hers too. We loved each other, but neither of us really knew how to say it or show it openly.

I know things have changed. She's gone, and I can't change that. I suppose this is something I'm still learning to live with. Maybe this is what grief really is....not just missing someone, but trying to find your place again in a world that suddenly gives you the thing you once wished for, except the one person you wish were still in it.

MLPML