I met a girl once. She was slightly taller than I am with fair, almost translucent, skin. I specifically remember her Stygian-esque eyes, as dark as night, piercing out in sheer contrast to the rest of her. I briefly wondered exactly how much makeup she had on her face but soon realised it was just her - no makeup. Her hands gave it away; powdered and delicate, I could see her veins almost right through to her arteries.
The thing that stood out with this young girl was not so much the way she looked, but her air of defiance. She told me that she had no interest in getting married and that her parents supported her decision. She said that she was busy training to run a sector of her family's importing/exporting business and that her uncles and father were showing her the ropes. I expressed my surprise since you don't come to the desert expecting to hear about these kinds of things. But I wished her well knowing that I had encountered an inner strength and determination that would ensure that she succeeded in whatever she set her mind to.
It was only months later, after departing from a meeting that brought a 12 hour workday to a close, that it occurred to me how damned ironic life is. I mean, there she was, finding her freedom in contravening these societal conventions, trying to forge a career for herself - dreaming of working at all hours of every day... and here I was, confined in my cage of employment, a prisoner of my own societal conventions and norms, longing for the languid sedentary domestic bliss of nothingness that paid for itself - something she could have if she just snapped her fingers.
The joke is on us. "Freedom" is just an opinion.