Freedom means Love

What does freedom mean to me?

Freedom means love. Freedom means loving without worry of how love will be received.

Love without worry. Without judgment. Without worry of judgment. Without having it judged as too much, too little, too immoral in the mind of another holding their fear and pain at the forefront of their thoughts, or in the forefront my own thoughts because freedom is self-release from the shackles of self-doubt that suffocate the heart of who I am. I worry about the love I give not being good enough. I worry about my own worthiness. Over compensating for the girl who hides in darkness because she is too scared to step out into the light. She holds the scars of past pain, of words that sliced at her innocence and even to this day, make her believe she is less than who she is: love. The embodiment of love. And I love her. I want to tell her she has nothing to be afraid of, that her love is good enough, that she has always been my strength, but I know she isn’t ready to hear those words, just yet.

So I love for the both of us. I allow her the time she needs to heal, all while I strive to love, to love this world with all my conviction, to love with the perfection of imperfection, I give what I have. I wear my heart on my sleeve and mind you, it’s a dirty sleeve that I will not wash. I want the firth and grime and beauty of a love that never surrenders to the ache of rejection. I don’t love to get, I love to give.

Giving love is freedom. Freedom is love. Simple and pure. Pure and simple, but humans complicate love. We define it into submission for our own security because with love there is no guarantee and no return policy. Defining love provides the illusion of a safety net, but when we fall, we hit ground, skin our knees and continue on just the same. Labeling our love limits it to a preconceived understanding of what we will get. We shop online for love, placing into our baskets, this and that and some other kind of love, thinking it will fit perfectly on our skin, but love isn’t a product we wear when other’s arms are draped over us. It is alive. It feels. It moves. It grows. And it changes over time. It is the very thing we need to be more human, more compassionate and have more empathy with each other. And whether we believe it or not, it can’t be defined. It can only be lived. This is freedom.

To live a life of freedom is to love without limits. I see that world. It’s a beautiful world. So whether friend, acquaintance, lover, family member or pet, just love them. And don’t think beyond. Allow yourself that freedom.