Freedom didn’t arrive when the world changed — it arrived when I stopped asking for permission to live my own life.
For a long time, it felt like my life was controlled by expectations.
Outer expectations. Inner expectations. Invisible rules I never consciously agreed to — yet followed every single day.
I lived as if someone else was holding the steering wheel. As if my choices were limited. As if wanting more — more freedom, more joy, more truth — was something I wasn’t allowed to do. Somewhere along the way, I forgot that I had already crossed the point in life where I could decide for myself.
I wasn’t powerless. I just felt like I was.
And this feeling shaped everything — including my relationship with my body. The eating disorder, the depression, the constant pressure to be “right,” “enough,” “controlled.” But looking back, I know now:
It was never about the body. It was about permission. Permission to want a life I actually loved.
Permission to speak my truth.
Permission to choose myself — even when the world felt heavy with pain, injustice, and suffering.
I carried a burden that was never mine. The belief that my happiness was selfish. That if others were struggling, I wasn’t allowed to live freely. That choosing ease somehow meant ignoring the pain of the world.
Mistaking Comfort for Safety
Through books, podcasts, therapy, coaching — and a lot of uncomfortable honesty — I began to see my patterns. I realized how much I was standing in my own way, using expectations as a shield to stay inside the comfort zone. The known. The predictable. The “safe.”
But safety built on silence is not safety. It’s a cage.
The Work No One Else Can Do
When we hide our thoughts, dreams, and desires to meet expectations we assume others have, we disappear. And the trap is this: we don’t actually know what others expect of us. We create stories. We repeat them. We live inside them.
No one can free us from these stories. That work is ours.
And it might be the most important work we’ll ever do:
to create supportive, nourishing inner narratives — and from there, a life that feels like home.
With care,
Katja – Creator of HOMELESS🌿
