I can’t believe it’s been 9 years since I first yearned for freedom. Today, I realize I’m not as independent as I once imagined, but I am profoundly grateful for the taste of freedom I have experienced.
To embrace this freedom, I let go of so much: the warmth of a shared home, the comfort of a familiar bed, the constancy of old friends, and the unconditional love of my family. I’ve lived with the heavy guilt of being the black sheep, unable to repay my debts—both financial and emotional.
I’ve wandered far and wide, calling all sorts of places home—from the serene peaks of snowy mountains to the shadows of dingy rooms. I’ve encountered extraordinary people, formed deep connections, and heartbreakingly lost many along the way—sometimes through my own mistakes, other times through unforeseen betrayals. I’ve laughed until my stomach ached, cried through countless nights, and learned to console myself. I’ve listened to fascinating stories, mingled with people from all walks of life, yet also spent months in solitude, not seeing a single soul for days on end.
I’ve commuted on local buses at night, often being the only passenger in the dark, my faith in humanity tested and ultimately restored. While one side of the nation faces horrors like Nirbhaya, instilling fear in everyone, I’ve witnessed acts of kindness and integrity that brought me home safely. I’ve lived in bustling metro cities and stayed in remote villages, finding grandmothers in strangers and feeling the warmth of unexpected connections. From fearing strangers to realizing that sometimes I was the one they feared, this journey has been one of profound personal growth.
I’ve dined alone most nights, gone days without food, and sometimes indulged in secret. I’ve scrubbed dirty clothes and dishes, traveled luxuriously by air, and endured the most uncomfortable trains and buses, standing for hours with barely any space to breathe. I’ve shared rooms with challenging roommates and wonderful flatmates, lived in large houses alone, and feared break-ins, finding solace in reciting the Hanuman Chalisa to fall asleep.
I’ve switched professions and educational paths, depended on my parents financially, and carried the weight of privilege—sometimes misusing it. I’ve made them proud, but also caused them sleepless nights. In the end, it’s all been worth it. The last 6-7 years have been a dream come true. I’m still searching for the right path, traveling and exploring to satisfy the inner child who longed for freedom.
To all the parents who do not let their children travel or live on their own, I wish you would. They will learn to get hurt and take care of themselves. I know not everyone is privileged enough to do that, but I ask those who can. I know I don’t belong to that side, so I can’t speak for them. But to those more privileged parents, please, start this journey for your children.
And to any girl reading this, don’t shy away from spreading your wings far and wide. It’s the worst—and you will love it.
Today, I finally see a light at the end of the tunnel—a light I never thought would appear after 15+ years of darkness. Contrary to what many believe, my journey hasn’t been one of luxury. I’ve fought countless silent battles alone and bear my scars with pride. It was all worth it, and looking back, I cherish every moment of the freedom I have embraced.