From the archive

You're finally free. Why does it feel like this?

Maybe the first use of freedom is embarrassingly small. Buying food you actually like. Making a friend who has never heard your old story. Doing something badly without immediately converting it into proof of your potential. None of this makes leaving safe, affordable, or available to everyone. But if you've already managed it, you don't owe the decision a spectacular sequel. You don't have to become extraordinary to justify having refused a shitty life. An ordinary afternoon that nobody can commandeer is already something. So is discovering that you don't particularly enjoy what you used to fantasize about. At least the discovery is yours. The kitchen is still quiet. The coffee is going cold. For once there isn't an emergency telling you who to be.