Freedom in Love Isn’t What Most People Think
8th Reflection on Love : Love & Freedom — Is There Such a Thing as Freedom in Love?
The moment someone else enters your life, freedom changes shape.
Growing up, and even now, I often hear people in relationships—married or not—constantly telling themselves:
“I’m free. I can do whatever I want. I’m not their child. I don’t work for them...”
For a long time, it made me think:
Is there ever truly any freedom in love?
Freedom Has Two Faces
The way I see it, freedom has two dimensions—and not just when it comes to love.
As long as it’s just about me, in my private life, then yes, I can do whatever I want. I can believe what I want, live how I choose, and work in whatever field I like. As long as it doesn’t involve or affect anyone else, I’m free to do as I please.
But the moment our decisions start to affect someone else, freedom changes. It shifts.
Take a simple example: I can’t blast music in the middle of the night. Some people are sleeping and may not tolerate that.
It shows that any kind of community relies on unwritten rules.
Of course, we can switch communities. We might trade one freedom for another, but we’ll just find new sets of restrictions.
Maybe this side of freedom isn’t about doing whatever we want, but about consciously choosing the constraints we’re willing to accept.
Why Love Functions Like a Contract
To me, a relationship is a lot like a job. An employer lists their requirements and expectations. If we feel we can meet them, we apply. And if we’re prepared, we get the job.
If a company bans phones, we don’t use our phones during work hours. If they require us to be on time, we do everything we can to be punctual.
Once we’ve accepted the position, can we really say we’re free to act however we want?
Even as freelancers, we still depend on our clients. If a client wants red, even if we know blue would look a thousand times better, we’d use red.
Sure, we’re free to accept or decline the work. But once the choice is made, doesn’t freedom take on a different shape?
Freedom Is the Ability to Choose Your Constraints
Maybe the the same applies to love. Does it ?
I’m free to choose the kind of relationship I want: to be with someone, to commit, to build a home. Just as I’m free to choose a different path—one without strings, full of late nights out, or even abstinence.
It’s interesting how strictly we follow our professional commitments, yet how blurry we let our emotional ones become. And yet, to me, they work the same way.
Can a married person really live as if they were single without creating an imbalance? Just as someone who chooses to be single can’t expect the perks of marriage.
Every system has its benefits—but it also has its requirements.
Commitment Means Carrying the Terms You Accepted
One of my managers at Amazon recently complimented me on being “convenient.”
Am I, though? I don’t think so. I see myself more as a rebel who happens to be responsible.
When I took the job, I accepted all the rules and expectations. I said I could work ten-hour night shifts in freezing temperatures and do everything else required.
No one forced me. Whether it was out of necessity or passion, I signed the contract.
So, I do what’s asked of me, as long as it’s within the scope of my job. If I’m working on a task and a supervisor asks me to switch to another, even if I don’t feel like it, I do it without complaining.
When my colleagues complain too much about the conditions, I sometimes think—and occasionally say—that we accepted these terms. No one coerced us. So maybe the real question isn’t whether the work is hard, but whether we are ready to own the terms we agreed to.
True, it makes me look like a “convenient” person. But to me, it’s not convenience; it’s responsibility.
For example, the company expects us to stow an average of 300 units per hour. But as long as you’re over 200, it’s acceptable. I always make the effort to stay above 250.
Some supervisors try to push for more, creating competitions with trivial rewards to boost productivity. I never care. Sometimes I’ll stow over 500 in an hour, but that’s a personal choice—it allows me to take it easier during other hours. No one says a word because my average stays solid.
I believe it’s the same in a relationship. Perhaps a sense of responsibility is one of those invisible pillars that keeps a relationship harmonious and respectful.
When Freedom Becomes an Excuse
Sometimes, a vague interpretation of “freedom” and a confusion between compliance and duty creates an imbalance—where one person gives more while the other gets used to receiving.
I wonder if what we call “freedom” in a shared life isn’t sometimes just a mask for our struggle to face the consequences of our choices. A form of irresponsibility.
When we choose a relationship, maybe the goal isn’t just to “get” it... but to fully carry its implications.
It’s like when a supervisor asks me to do something I don’t like at work: they aren’t forcing me, but I am taking responsibility for the role I accepted.
Where Does Freedom End When Someone Else Is Involved?
Is it still freedom if:
A married man chooses to spend his weekend at a club while his wife stays home alone?
A woman goes out every night as if no commitment ever existed?
A paycheck is spent on luxury things while the joint rent goes unpaid?
The chores and the burdens become the effort of only one person?
Fidelity becomes an option rather than an agreement?
One’s appearance, outings, or silences are never shared or explained?
The list could go on.
Living for yourself… and for the other
In my fourth reflection, I pointed out that in a relationship, we must invest in ourselves first—but we also do it for the other person.
I like to say:
Maybe in a relationship, we no longer live solely for ourselves… but also with the other person in mind.
Our actions and decisions should benefit them too, because they affect them.
If we’re going to be late, we should let them know. If we’re going out, we should tell them. We need to adapt our lives, our decisions, and our actions to the other person’s reality, just as we do at work.
We don’t do it to “ask for permission,” but for transparency and trust within the couple.
Some might say:
“I’m not their slave.”
No, you’re not.
But in a chosen commitment, there is a mutual responsibility—the responsibility not to act as if the other person doesn’t exist.
Every Commitment Carries Consequences
Imagine someone working in a shop. The owner tells them to lock the cash register if they step away, even for a few seconds. That person, consciously or not, leaves it open. And he comes back to find all the money gone.
What would the owner do?
Depending on the boss, that employee could lose more than just their job. And the owner would have every right to take action, at least within the law.
When responsibilities are no longer honored, the balance breaks.
And the other person is left with a choice: to stay… or to walk away.
What True Freedom Actually Means
Maybe the freedom we claim to want in love isn’t exactly what we imagine.
If we were truly “free” within our commitments:
Why would we ever feel the need to hide things?
Why would anger flare up when certain boundaries are crossed?
To me, true freedom isn’t about doing whatever we want or running from our duties; it’s about choosing them consciously—and honoring them with love.
As Jean-Paul Sartre wrote:
“We are condemned to be free.”
In other words, we cannot escape the responsibility of our choices. Even choosing not to choose is a choice.
Is claiming “freedom” just to avoid certain responsibilities actually a form of irresponsibility?
I don’t mean in a moral sense.
I mean in a structural sense.
Irresponsibility here isn’t just a character flaw. It’s a disconnect between the commitment we chose and the actions we take.
And that disconnect always ends up costing something.
To one.
To the other.
Or to both.
Conclusion
What if, in the end, freedom wasn’t a right to be defended... but a skill to be developed?
An emotional maturity.
The ability to choose what is worth protecting—even if it requires sacrifice.
Because in a commitment, our choices no longer belong entirely to us.
They circulate.
They impact.
They bind.
And maybe true freedom begins exactly where irresponsibility ends.
Freedom is not the absence of constraints — it is the choice of which constraints we accept.
Tomorrow’s Evening Mirror will examine the hidden structure behind freedom in love — and how attachment quietly transforms autonomy into responsibility.
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With clarity,
The Mirror Room
Odel A.
That was a great read. Interesting and lots to take in. I really enjoyed it.
Freedom is not the absence of constraints really came in, set down its bag, and started rearranging the furniture...