Making Sense
And there is another thing I want to explore through this play:
Freedom.
And the misconceptions surrounding freedom.
So many people believe that freedom means selfishness.
Doing whatever the fuck we want without consequences.
But that is not the truth.
Freedom is simply freedom.
Yes, I have the right and the possibility to do whatever I want—as long as I don't destroy someone else's freedom.
But I also have to live with the consequences.
And that doesn't mean I will actually do whatever I want.
Because I have people in my life whom I am responsible for, and I have to make my decisions accordingly.
I am a trustworthy person who always tries to keep her word, even when it is hard, uncomfortable, or when all I want to do is run away.
I take my relationships seriously, even if it doesn't always look that way.
I have a strong inner compass for what is right and what is wrong.
And many times I choose what is right over what I want.
Freedom means that I can live according to my own inner compass.
Freedom means that I can leave behind what no longer serves me while taking responsibility for leaving it behind.
Freedom means that I can make my own choices while accepting both the rewards and the consequences.
Freedom means that I can live my life the way I want without hurting other people.
That is why choosing a same-sex partner as a consenting adult is completely fine, while an adult choosing a child is absolutely not.
The difference is that one respects another person's freedom.
The other destroys it.
And the reason I became so protective of my own freedom is that mine was rarely respected.
People kept stepping all over it.
And yes, I am decisive.
I can change my plans very, very quickly.
Not because I am purely impulsive, but because I react quickly to changing circumstances.
I am willing to make the decisions that everyone deep down knows have to be made, but that nobody actually has the courage to make.
From the outside, though, those decisions often make no fucking sense.
And whenever I sat down and tried to explain them, all I got was pushback.
People told me they made no sense.
I mean...
It is difficult to explain why I made a decision when nobody actually wanted to listen.
Because they didn't really want to understand.
They wanted my decisions to make sense to them.
They wanted them to fit into their own worldview instead of simply trying to understand mine.
And because I consider so many external and internal factors before making a decision, it is incredibly difficult to explain that whole process to someone who wasn't inside my head.
So I never really learned how to explain those decisions.
Because I knew that most people didn't actually care.
Not really.
Because, in their minds, their truth was the only truth.
Sooo...
That is how I became so protective of my freedom.
I think this is something I can use in this story as well.
The main character initially cannot explain her decision to change her life.
Not because there isn't a reason.
But because she doesn't yet know how to put it into words.
And because the people around her don't even try to help her understand it.
That only changes when she meets her new friend.
Someone who opens an entirely new room.
A room built on curiosity.
On asking questions.
On genuinely wanting to understand instead of simply trying to make everything fit into an existing worldview.