[Chibi Creative Awards | Freedom] My freedom begins in my stomach.

When I was a child, my stomach would hurt every time I ate.

It wasn't that I disliked the food on the table.

But without fail, as soon as I started eating, my stomach would ache.

I wondered why I was the only one so weak.

Back then, there was a word my older brother would say to me over and over.

"Fatty"

It was just a two-character word.

But as it was repeated, that word began to take up residence inside my stomach.

If I eat, I'll get fat.

If I eat, I'll be told something again.

The food I brought to my mouth while thinking those things was never something I could feel at ease with.

Thinking about it now, perhaps that stomach pain wasn't caused by the food alone.

I was more concerned with the words of those around me than with my own body.

What do I want to eat?

Am I hungry?

Do I find this delicious?

What others might say to me mattered more than my own feelings.

As a child, I couldn't leave that place, nor could I choose words to talk back.

I just endured it while my stomach ached.

Perhaps the first time I tried to choose my own life was during high school entrance exams.

As a middle schooler, I didn't have any clear dreams for the future.

I didn't really understand how high school or university worked.

Even so, I thought as hard as I could with my limited knowledge and decided on the high school I wanted to go to.

At the three-way parent-teacher conference to discuss my path, my homeroom teacher looked grim.

"Not many students go on to this high school, so wouldn't it be better to lower your rank a bit?"

That's what I was told.

Now, I can see that the teacher was worried in their own way.

But at the time, it felt like my own wishes were being denied.

My mother, sitting next to me, answered with a smile.

"I trust the cram school teacher. I will let this child take the exam for the school they want."

She was smiling, but I think there was a bit of sarcasm mixed in.

When we got home, my mother was angry about the high-brand watch the teacher was wearing.

"It felt like they were showing off, and it made me feel bad."

At the time, my father wasn't contributing enough living expenses to the house, and my grandmother was helping us get by.

For my mother, the teacher's watch probably wasn't just a watch.

Something she didn't have.

Something she couldn't obtain.

Something she was enduring without.

It might have been something that stimulated those kinds of feelings.

My father was someone who started working after graduating middle school, and he held the belief that,

"Girls don't need an education."

On the other hand, my mother thought,

"I want to send her to this high school because it connects to a university."

This was an era when tuition support wasn't as robust as it is now.

Advancing to higher education required family money.

My parents had their own circumstances, and the teacher had their own way of thinking.

Still, in the end, they let me take the exam for the high school I wanted.

I am still grateful for that.

After the three-way conference, I felt the homeroom teacher's attitude became a bit stricter.

But I didn't pay much attention to it.

I cannot choose what the teacher thinks.

I cannot change what my mother gets angry about or how my father thinks about education.

All I could do was study to advance to the high school I had decided on.

So, I continued doing what I needed to do for the exams.

Back then, I didn't think about "wanting to be free."

I just didn't want to give up on the path I had chosen because of someone else's words.

Looking back, I think that was the first action I took in search of freedom.

There was a time when I thought freedom meant acting however I pleased.

Going to places I liked, buying things I liked, and living without anyone telling me what to do.

But after becoming an adult and experiencing illness, my way of thinking about freedom changed.

If you push yourself too hard, your body will break.

If you pack your schedule too full, you and those around you will suffer when unexpected events occur.

If you are alive, things that don't go as planned will inevitably happen.

There are days when family members get sick.

There are days when children cannot go to school.

Sometimes, someone suddenly needs help.

That is why I have come to want to leave as much margin in my life as possible.

Time with no plans.

Time not to give an answer immediately.

The leeway to rest when tired.

The spare capacity to reach out when something happens to someone.

I used to think that the more I tried, the closer I would get to happiness.

Now, I think it is better to feel the greatest happiness with the minimum amount of effort.

This does not mean I want to do nothing and take the easy way out.

It means using my energy for what is truly important to me and not pushing myself too hard on anything else.

You are not happy because you have a lot.

It is about being able to notice what you have now.

Being able to eat a warm meal.

Having a place to sleep.

Being able to convey my words to someone.

Being able to spend the day safely with my family.

As a child, I envied the families around me.

I was always counting the things my own home didn't have.

But after becoming an adult, I came to know various lives through news and newspapers.

In this world, there are people who cannot have choices depending on where they were born or their family environment.

There are even people who don't have food to eat today or a safe place to sleep.

Every time I learn that, I have come to think,

"I have had painful times too. But I am blessed now."

I don't mean to say that I am happy by comparing myself to someone else's misfortune.

My pain doesn't disappear either.

It's just that I have become able to look at what has been given to me.

I think that, too, is a form of freedom of the heart.

Now, even when I eat, my stomach almost never hurts.

There was a time I was fine even after eating miso soup that had gone a bit sour or yokan that was a month past its expiration date.

Of course, I would never recommend that in terms of food safety.

Even if humans gain freedom, they should be a little more cautious about expiration dates.

Still, compared to when I was a child, my stomach has become much stronger.

Maybe my constitution just changed.

But I think it also has to do with being able to eat in a place where I feel safe.

I no longer have to eat while being afraid of someone's words.

I can choose what I want to eat myself.

When I receive unpleasant words, I can stay silent, distance myself, or talk back.

I can choose my own words and actions, rather than just following someone else's values.

For me, freedom is not about being able to do whatever I want.

It is not about controlling someone else's feelings or avoiding all unpleasant events.

It is about being able to choose how I think and how I act amidst events that don't go as planned.

I am currently writing about my experiences on note.

Things I was lost about after becoming a mother.

Times I felt miserable comparing myself to others.

Times I thought I couldn't rely on anyone.

Times I struggled with relationships at school or with family.

I didn't intend to show my experiences to anyone from the start.

But as I put past events into words, I gradually began to understand what I was feeling back then.

Writing is not about painting over the past to make it beautiful.

It is not about pretending that painful events never happened.

It is about the current me choosing again the words I couldn't choose back then.

And if someone who reads about my experience thinks,

"I wasn't the only one,"

then the pain of the past might turn into someone else's peace of mind.

As a child, I wanted freedom.

But I didn't know the word for it.

I just wanted to go to a place where my stomach wouldn't hurt.

I wanted to choose for myself without being afraid of someone's words.

Now, I cannot make everything in my life free.

There are days when things don't go as planned regarding family, my body, or money.

Even so, I can choose what to cherish today.

I can choose which words to accept and which to let go.

I can also choose not to push myself and to leave some margin.

I can also feel that the happiness right in front of me is happiness.

I can eat a warm meal with peace of mind.

With just that, I am sufficiently free and happy.

Thank you very much for reading until the end.

Next, I would like to read about what "freedom" means to you.

Please let me come visit.

👇 Thank you for the wonderful project 😊
Everyone, please join in ✨

In the background of the pain that remained in my body was the loss of my brother and the family time that followed.
I have recorded that origin in this article 🪷

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