January 18, 2021, I received my freedom papers. I was released, emancipated, freed. I freely gave so much of my time to a system who didn’t want to teach or rehabilitate me. A system I thought I could or would never get sucked into because of my love affair with myself and time. Yet this time, I allowed time to float away like a released balloon dancing in the air. I released the string that would ground me to my destiny but reluctantly, I decided to live someone else’s destiny.
I try to connect the dots in my head tracing out pictures that led me to my fate of being a three time habitual offender and I wake up to an eight-year-old girl. This girl stands about four foot three tall, spunky, and truly believes she is a princess and super hero. Nothing seemed impossible or hard for her including becoming writer. This little girl felt like she had much to say and the world needed to stop and read her imaginative words.
This passion of writing short stories, essays, and poems burned into this little girl’s heart. In fact the intensity strengthen way into her teenage years, passed a teacher’s discouragement of her writing ability. But the blow that change the trajectory of the young naive girl’s life was from her mother. Although her mother was providing “motherly” advice of removing her head from the clouds because writers do not make money, she advised her daughter to pick a job that will pay her reasonably especially if she didn’t find a husband to support her. Not knowing the magnitude of her mother’s advice would affect her, she went outside, said a prayer, and released the canary yellow balloon. As tears started to stream down her face, clouding her vision, she wiped away her tears to see the balloon no longer visible.
I take a deep inhale and release the stale, bitter breath from my mouth. Getting a cup of hot lime water, I walk to my bedroom window. Noticing the neighbor’s children, a bit of envy creeps into me. The children’s carefree, childlike made up games and distinct laughter that comes from their belly pierce my ears sending me back into my thoughts.
Years passed and the little girl, now a young woman, has two degrees under her belt but no job. The young woman cannot understand how she can receive a Master’s in business, a lucrative field, but no job offers. With panic and anxiousness of not being able to pay her bills or support her braggadocios’ lifestyle, she committed her first crime. That crime landed her nine years in a soul sucking, dream killing system. And after playing the system, she was released from the leech sucking system, promising herself to never go back. Unfortunately, ego and vanity coerced this young woman now thirty-one to commit the same crime only three months later.
Breaking all her personal rules, she thought she was making the right decision, but she kept going back to a decaying system of profit for human capital. Unknowing to her, she thought she could survive this bid but soon after, sleep started to evade her and extra weight clung to her like a baby to his mother’s breast. Her life was wasting away and all she could hear is find and do something that will always bring you money. The young woman made a vow to herself to never make a hasty, emotional decision that will land her in another proverbial prison again. Fortunately, she was released just after two years of unsuccessful rehabilitation and conformity to the prison’s rules.
She was thirty-three with no money, no identity, and no clue on what do next. The advice she was receiving was the same advice of ‘get a job so you can make money’. Getting back into writing, she was strongly urged to get something that will actually pay her bills, specifically student loans. Unable to tap back into her super hero powers she had as a girl, she succumbed to the pressure committing her last and final crime. She rationalized with herself that doing this crime will bring her financial freedom and freedom from her captives advice. But she was living in a paradoxical altered universe she helped create.
She actively went out trying to better herself and once again ended up in prison. This time the yolk on her neck was so heavy and tight, it slowly drained the life out of her. Every day, she planned of ways to escape but was always to scared to make the move. Until the magical MLK Monday rolled around and the warden gave her release papers. Once again she was released not for good behavior but not conforming.
With the vivid image of my younger self emerging from my thoughts, I walk away from the window with something yellow catching the corner of my eye. As I turn back and walk closer to the window, so close I can feel the coolness against my lips, i seen a yellow image. Could it be, could it truly be my yellow balloon whirling in the wind coming to land on the ledge of my window. The same balloon I release over twenty years ago came back to me still filled with helium of passion, hope, laughter, joy, peace, and love. A smile illuminating from my heart inadvertently landed on my face. I’m no longer a habitual money chaser, job hopper offender.
Now, I can wake up and write stories and articles without feeling consumed with guilt of not being enough. After spending over twelve years in a revolving unfulfilled job system, I no longer subscribe to someone else ideas of my happiness, passion and future. I sometimes still wake up thinking that I’ve missed another time-consuming meeting or get a bit of anxiety when I pick up my phone fearing soul sucking email requests. I was a prisoner to my own fears which lead me directly to unfulfilled jobs. I will now write and speak my truth as I hold my yellow balloon.
Hello my name is Fredrika Atkins and I am a renowned writer!
