Freedom in the contained

For as long as I've resided in Brisbane, I've complained about it. It's always seemed too small, too safe and too boring to contain my ambition (for what exactly, I'm not entirely sure). And so like the hoards of Tumblr/Instagram motivational pictures suggest, I bought a one way ticket to Europe with plans to head towards the great unknown. The response to this decision from the small group of people I knew, ranged from surprise to sad, but mostly everyone seemed to wish they were 'brave' enough to do the same. And the more I thought about it, I actually wondered what my motives were in leaving in the first place. Was I trying to find a solution that satisfied this not-quite-yet-quarter life crisis? Was I avoiding something? Or was I simply not willing to give rise to the notion that I could have exactly what I wanted here.



The real hero

 (I'm the hero of this story. I don't need to be saved. Picture via Studded Hearts)

Frustrated at the ripe old age of 21, I can remember being in a relationship and telling my partner at the time that "I just wanted to be looked after." I guess I'd seen too many movies, and was consumed by this fairytale notion of relationships, whereby the man was one who doted on the woman. Instead of being insulted by that statement which would have been an appropriate reaction, he told me this instead.

"But Maria, you don't need anyone to look after you."