In the absence of freedom

She was born in a traditional Christian family with a set of strict rules. Since she was a little girl, she learned to be obedient in the smallest details. Pants were considered vulgar even for her age, so dresses and long skirts were her loyal companions since childhood. “Jesus might not love women in pants”, she must have thought.

A woman, in her father view, should have been hard working, not very talkative, a good housekeeper and extremely decent in her behaviour. School was not an important factor in education. Especially for women. They weren’t supposed to think too hard and discover new skills, because it could divert them from their main purpose. Dreams and hopes were out of the question. They would become submissive wives and good mothers. Nobody cared about their personalities and personal talents. Although, they were Christian, love didn’t have a place in their family.

Life was full of hardships and love was hidden under the heavy rules. Back then, showing your feelings was considered a weakness, but Nora was a sensitive soul and she craved for love more than anything in the world. She hoped that she will experience it in her marriage. Despite this rigorous life, she was a dreamer. She prayed for a loving warm husband, who would save her from this mechanic and restrictive life.

When she met him, he seemed to be even more than what she was asking for. An enthusiastic charming man, full of eccentric ideas and daring plans. He was like nothing she knew before. He didn’t grow in a Christian family like hers, so he tasted the freedom. Only that, it turned into a toxic freedom, exceeding the limits, and becoming consumed by alcohol and sex. They were two opposite poles. He has been returned to God hands recently when he met Nora. The problem was, while she had a thirst of love and building a relationship, he was already bored of women. She had no experience at all, while he was too experienced. Maybe the contrast was too big.

She fell in love and couldn’t pay attention to the details anymore. And she paid for it later. He was a jealous paranoic man. In the beginning, she took his acts of jealousy as proofs of love, but in time, she realised that they are just another expression of his selfishness. She used to be a naturally beautiful woman, but she didn’t have the freedom to preserve this beauty. Birth after birth, long sleepless nights and hardworking days left marks on her body and on her soul. Life with him was adventurous indeed, he was a man of action, and his restless spirit was always looking for new opportunities. She encouraged him in his nonconformist plans, though some of them were very risky, but he convinced her every time that the plan will be successful.

They encountered many failures, but at least, her life was not dull anymore. Still, love never came. Not from him. He didn’t let her be the woman he really needed, or maybe it wasn’t her style, but in my opinion, he would have liked her to be more attractive and feminine, but he was too afraid to lose her. In others’ opinion, this could be called love. In my view, love is freedom. And in their story, none of them was actually free. He followed this religious path out of fear of not coming back to his depraved state and out of guilt, because he didn’t understand that God forgave him. She, on the other hand, was following her beliefs from childhood, without questioning too much if this is the best way to live.

When I met Nora, I was about 25 years old, and I changed my hair colour every two months. I was in a process of transition and self-seeking. I was childish, full of energy and creativity, cheerful and curious…almost everything she wasn’t allowed to be. She looked at me like I was kind of an alien who has landed in the family, like God couldn’t have more humour to choose such an unexpected wife for her elder son. But I accepted her for who she was, and she accepted me. Maybe she judged me in her heart for my appearance, but she didn’t tell me that I looked weird, by her standards. I understood her background and she understood where I was coming from. Still, I felt the need to help her fight for her freedom as a woman.

Every time I talked to her, we agreed on so many things and she seemed to have courage to see things different, but then he switched her mind in his advantage. The next time I talked to her about the same topic, she had an opposite point of view. I was completely confused. It took me a long time to realise that their relationship was an abusive one, he was the abuser, and she was the victim. And the only way she could escape was through a divorce, and this would never happen because it was beyond her religious principles.

I felt sad to see that this woman could never have the chance to taste the freedom, for real. She believed what he believed, dress as she was told to, his thoughts were her thoughts, and her life was in his hands. I was hopeless, until one day when she told me she did a reckless thing. My imagination gone crazy; I was expecting the worse. She almost whispered to me that she went to a hairdresser, without his permission. And there, under the blinding lights and the rhythmic sound of scissors, she felt the most independent woman on Earth. She felt that she took power over her life. She felt free.

How much a person can take from you depends on how much you let this happen. Freedom is very personal, it has different meanings and perceptions, from one person to another, from one culture to another. But, in a way or another, we all deserve it. We all need it.