Freedom is a myth. At least in a woman’s world. Some are a tad luckier to have the freedom to be born, to live, to study, to work, to workout, to travel, to make decisions, and even to marry the man of her choice. In some more progressive households, she might even have the freedom to wear short skirts and sip a cocktail or two. But that’s about it.
Even after good seven decades of winning the country’s freedom, women haven’t quite been able to win theirs. At least not in its entirety.
The modern woman has graduated to having the freedom to do the things she wants to. But what she still doesn’t have is the freedom to not do something—to not marry, to not have kids, to not cook, to not take a career break when she becomes a mother, to not be the first one to rise and the last one to sleep, to not nurse the family when they’re sick, to not please everyone, to not obey everyone, to not match expectations that the whole world has of her.
I don’t have a problem with the lack of freedom. I have a problem with women being okay with the lack of it. We have come to accept this false notion of freedom as our reality. And more so, that it will never change.
I have many single and married working girlfriends. I hardly relate to them. Or rather, they hardly relate to me. I think the key reason is because I do everything I must to have it my way—especially where it matters.
I don’t always wake up the first, I don’t always cook, I don’t wait up for my husband, I don’t have the cleanest house, I don’t have kids and I certainly am not the perfect example of a homemaker. I am often called bold and brave, and sometimes even selfish. But I don’t mind being called any of it. And I don’t mind the freedom. I like to be free—to do and not do the things I wish. Unlike many others.
No, I didn’t have it easy. I didn’t get my choices or freedom served on a platter. Not every time. I have had to make hard choices and bold moves. Even India didn’t get its freedom easy. But the difficulties never faltered me. I decided to do it anyway. Because it mattered to me. Because I wanted it. Because I wasn’t going to have it any other way.
So, if you ask me if a woman can really ever have it her way? The answer is—not unless she really wants to.