The Shadow of the Protector

Sometimes I catch myself wondering whether freedom, as a concept, still fascinates us — or if it's become just a faded extra in election campaign speeches. In a country where the promise of aid, a benefit, or a new paternalistic law earns more applause than a proposal for autonomy, it's not surprising that the idea of being free is starting to feel… uncomfortable.

Maybe because true freedom is hard work. 

Not the kind of freedom that's about choosing your T-shirt color or what show to binge-watch — but real freedom, the one that demands something that, let's be honest, is out of fashion: responsibility.
And when I say responsibility, I don't just mean the one that weighs on your back at the end of the month — I mean the responsibility to think for yourself, to act for yourself, to deal with the consequences of your own choices.

We live surrounded by speeches that turn the State into a near-mythical figure — omniscient, omnipresent, ready to fulfill all our needs, solve all our problems, and shield us from any and all discomfort. And all of that sounds incredibly comforting… until you notice one small detail: the more the State does for us, the more it decides for us.

If it defines what's best for me, for you, for everyone…
what's left of our autonomy? 

Of course, the State has a role — and no, this isn't some disguised libertarian pamphlet. But maybe it's an invitation.
An invitation to look around and ask:
To what extent has all this protection become a kind of comfortable prison?
To what extent have we given up deciding for ourselves in exchange for a sense of safety that, often, is just the illusion of control?

Some people think freedom is a luxury. And it's not hard to see why: it comes at a high cost.
To be free is to accept the possibility of error, of failure, of pain.
But it is also in that unstable ground where authenticity blooms — where creativity is born and, above all, where dignity is found.

I wonder if the greatest challenge of our generation isn't just resisting the blatant forms of authoritarianism, but the gentle smile of disguised authoritarianism — the one that wears the mask of care.
Because when the protector starts deciding too much, he stops protecting — and starts controlling.

Maybe the greatest act of courage today is this:
to take the reins of your own life.
And, who knows, maybe inspire others to do the same.

I don't have definitive answers — and honestly, I'm suspicious of those who claim to.
But if this text manages to spark even a single uncomfortable question…
then it was already worth it.