Cue: “Free” by Deniece Williams
It’s the day after the Fourth of July, and for the first time in a long time—
I feel free.
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Not red, white, and blue free.
Not the kind wrapped in fireworks and flags.
Especially not when the so-called leader of the free world is out here rewriting history.
No, my freedom is deeper than that.
It’s not political.
It’s personal.
It’s spiritual.
What’s Free?
Free is being home.
In my own space.
With my own keys.
In a place I made sacred.
Suite Restoration.
Home didn’t just give me shelter—it gave me peace.
Free is waking up and not feeling like I owe the world an explanation.
Free is not spiraling because someone didn’t text back.
Free is finally silencing the voice in my head that says I have to earn rest.
Free is that whisper from Holy Spirit saying,
“You’re already enough.”
I’m six days away from turning 40.
That’s wild.
And yet—here I am. Feeling more me than I ever have.
Even with my auntie still bossing me around while I am in her home (some things never change),
I’m not moved.
Because I know something she doesn’t even fully realize yet:
I’m not that little girl anymore.
I’m a whole grown woman.
I’m free.
Free from the mental handcuffs that kept me stuck in cycles of self-doubt.
Free from the soul ties that looked like love but felt like prisons.
Free from trying to squeeze my spirit into rooms that couldn’t hold my glory.
What Does Freedom Look Like?
It looks like walking in my apartment barefoot, blasting gospel, burning incense, and smiling for no reason.
It looks like hitting publish on blog posts that sound like diary entries and not caring who relates.
It looks like building Petals and Cheers my way, with no Pinterest boards from strangers telling me how I should create.
It looks like buying flowers for no reason.
It looks like rest. Unapologetic, soul-deep, restorative rest.
It looks like God.
Like God.
Everywhere. In every detail.
This isn’t performative freedom.
This isn’t Instagram freedom.
This is internal liberation.
So what’s free?
Free is me.
Me, fully.
Me, finally.
Me, loudly and quietly at the same time.
Me, walking into 40 with my head high, my hands open, and my heart unchained.
And if you’ve never felt that kind of free before, I pray you do.
It don’t come overnight.
But baby, when it comes—
It changes everything.
“I just want to be free… and I just got to be me…”
— Deniece Williams
At the Table with Ronisha is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.