You are what You view Yourself

Title: Stepping Into the Unknown

Journal Entry: January 20th, 2021

My name is Ella, but I prefer being addressed as Ezer. Ezer means "warrior," and that's how I like to see myself. Ella, on the other hand, sounds too delicate. As the third child in a family of six, there's no room for delicate. My parents are very practical, strict, and overly religious.

I grew up in a Catholic home where my dad had a 'unique' view of gender roles, along with a long list of rules.

No boys.

No phone until after high school graduation.

No leaving the house without permission. And if—if—permission is granted, be back before six. Not 6:01, not even 6:00. By 5:59, you'd better be at home.

And this applied to everyone, regardless of age or gender.

No, I'm not exaggerating.

These rules kept us in check, but they also completely ruined my social life. I'm 17 and have never had a real friend, let alone a boyfriend (if I ever did, my parents would literally kill me). I still get lost in my own state, for God's sake!

All of this contributed to my decision to pick a university far from home. Dad wanted me to "go back to my roots" since it's my hometown, but honestly, I just wanted freedom.

As I stand at the entrance of my house, I'm finally happy to get a taste of that freedom. But my emotions are a mix of hope, enthusiasm, and uncertainty about what the future holds. This isn't the first time I've left home—I went to boarding school before—but it was a missionary school, which meant more rules. I guess I had some fun, though.

My parents even gave me "the talk" about sex for the first time... ugh, awkward.

I'm excited to meet boys, escape the suffocating clutches of endless rules, and experience life. But I hesitate.

I hug my siblings and grab my bags, heading toward my dad's car. I feel overwhelmed—caught between high expectations and the thrill of independence. This is supposed to be my chance to experience life to the fullest.

For as long as I can remember, I've felt trapped in a cage, yearning for even a little freedom. But now, away from my parents' watchful eyes and rigid rules about who I should be, I am determined to find out who I truly am—or who I'm meant to be.

As I board the bus, I glance at my dad through the window. Suddenly, I'm not so sure anymore.

I've left all the rules behind, haven't I? I should feel happier to finally get away. But, as the Bible says: "Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old, he will not depart from it."

I'm realizing just how true that is. Unknowingly, I've built a wall so high that even I can't climb over it. Pretty ironic for someone who's been craving freedom.