Here is something real and true:

Sometimes, I daydream about running away from my life and starting over somewhere else. A new place, a new job, a new me. I think about how I could just pack a backpack, get in the car, and not look back.

Is that horrible? Or normal? I’m not currently in therapy, and I don’t have many friends to run things like this by, so who knows?

Not that I actually need to explain, but just to be clear, I wouldn’t ever actually do it. And, if you’re worried for my husband or my child, please know that this is not them-related. I have had fantasies like this for as long as I can remember. In high school, I dreamed of moving to the west coast to become a photographer. In college, I thought maybe I’d study abroad, find a job teaching internationally, and never return. More recently, I’ve set my sights on London.

So, you see, it is not that I’m unhappy with the story I’m in. It’s just the thought of what if?

What if I had no ties to people who cared about my well-being? What if I had a less structured, more creative job? What if I lived in a place outside of Texas? What if the only person I was responsible for was myself?

In reality, it would probably be a lonely life, and I would spend my days dreaming about living a stable, routine life with a home I own and a family that loves me.

But that’s not part of the fantasy.

I think the real issue is that I’ve always felt a little trapped inside myself. Like I have an image I present as who I am, but the real me is stuffed down inside. My soul longs to be wild and free, but I keep her caged.

Since I was a teenager, I have gone through periods of restlessness. The doldrums, I call them. I am going through the motions of my life, but there’s something calling me that’s just out of reach. I can’t ever place a finger on what I am looking for in those times, so they usually culminate in a new tattoo, piercing, or hairstyle. Seriously, check the progression of my earrings over the years to see how long this has been going on. It is nothing new for me.

I am not someone who tries many new things or acts spontaneously or does anything reckless, but I think part of me wants to be. Just cut my ties and float away into the clouds.

I fell off my bike recently and scratched up my leg, and it was like a lightning bolt to the part of me that’s locked away. I swear I could feel the cage rumble. Riding around on a trail I’d never been to before–just enough newness to feel lost without actually being worried. Taking a turn too sharp and bloodying my leg–just enough pain to feel something without actually getting hurt. Spending time in fresh air with music blasting in my ears–just enough space to feel alone without being lonely.

Occasionally, the weight of responsibility that comes with being a mother/wife/daughter/sister/aunt/friend is a lot to bear. And while I obviously wouldn’t trade those things in (as they are literally the greatest joys life has to offer), sometimes it is nice to suspend those labels for a while and just be me. Me without the attachment to other people. Me without bills and chores and lists. Me, uncaged.

Wild and free.