The Door Was Never Locked

I once met a man who said something strange. He said, “The door you’re

waiting to open… isn’t locked.” I asked him, “Then why can’t I move forward?”

He smiled and replied, “Because you’re still waiting for someone else’s permission.” I looked back at

my life— the fear of being judged, the need to be approved, the weight of the

past I kept carrying. He said one last thing before leaving: “The moment you stop living for

applause… you start living freely.” And that day, I realized—

the prison was never outside me.