We had a 17-year-old woman from Germany visit us recently. Let’s call her Joy.
Joy had been looking forward to her stay with us. She wanted to come to the US and, in fact, had stopped running away and smoking weed for a few weeks to prove to her guardian that she was motivated. I had to admit that I was impressed.
Joy has a complicated family history. Her mother is an alcoholic who immigrated to Germany from a war-torn region 20 years prior. Her father is unknown. She’s been in foster care, spent time in psych hospitals and lived on the streets for days at a time. There were alcohol and drugs, she dropped out of school, and ran away. Now, she wants to get her GED and work as a caregiver.
The first week went fairly well. Joy was relatively open and interested in her new surroundings. We went to the gym every few days, cooked, baked, and took care of the animals. She started learning English and repeatedly asked me to help her get in touch with “horse people” and horses. Yes, there was the typical complaint: “I’m bored.” But what teenager doesn’t say that when they’re not glued to the internet or TV 24/7?
And then she ran out of cigarettes… and with it, it seemed, all logic. In the last two days, she was caught by the police twice and brought back. She was sabotaging her chances to get what she said she wanted and enjoyed, risking being sent home immediately, possibly never allowed back into the USA. She was putting herself and her life in danger. Why? It wasn’t because she was going through nicotine withdrawal—she had access to nicotine gum. But what is it that controls someone so much that they can no longer think logically, that they are willing to give up their life and freedom?
This made me think about a past client who once tried to explain to me why she wanted to stop using drugs. She repeatedly said, “I don’t want to give up my freedom anymore. I don’t want to be controlled by a drug.” Back then, I had a hard time fully understanding what that meant, because her life seemed fairly “normal” despite the drugs: she had a home, children, grandchildren, a relationship, health insurance, the ability to travel, access to the internet, a phone, and financial resources. It seemed like everything was in place.
But thanks to Joy, I was reminded of the true price of addiction and dependency: freedom. And it’s not just about the “big” addictions—drugs and alcohol (and in Joy’s case, cigarettes)—but also about our “smaller” dependencies. Whether it’s coffee, chocolate, shopping, gaming, or behaviors like needing to eat only what we know, taking the same route to work every day, controlling relationships, always needing to be right, avoiding arguments, or yelling when we’re angry. All of these dependencies take away our freedom to make choices, to evolve, to live in the moment.
Thank you, Joy, for reminding me today of how important it is to fight for my freedom—although it’s not always easy to question habits and dependencies, and even harder to change them (yes, I know, that’s an understatement).
… And tomorrow, I’ll have to explain to the local DHS office that I’m fully capable of working with teenagers and that they don’t need to send Joy back to Germany just yet … Wish me luck!