As human beings, we often celebrate freedom. The idea that we can do whatever we want, whenever we want, is painted as the highest prize of life. Governments may put laws in place to keep society organised, but beyond that, most of us live under very few restrictions. At least, that’s the surface truth. The deeper reality is that freedom doesn’t mean everything is permissible. Sometimes, it’s not the law that stops us from making a choice it’s something far more intimate: our discipline, our beliefs, and the kind of people we want to be.
When I think about my own life, I realise that the most important decisions I’ve made are not about what I’ve done, but about what I’ve refused to do. These are not things the law forbids, but things I have simply chosen to walk away from, because my heart and my values whisper louder than temptation. And when I look back, those refusals—those quiet boundaries—have shaped me more than my achievements ever could.
The Temptation to Live for Applause
One of the hardest things I’ve had to resist in my life is the urge to live for people’s approval. Social media makes this even harder, because the “likes” and “shares” can make you feel like your worth is tied to the crowd’s reaction. I remember a season when I was younger, desperate to be seen, to be validated, to be popular. I used to draft my words not because I believed in them, but because I knew they would please others.
But I reached a point where I realised how empty that was. I wasn’t truly living my life I was performing it, like a puppet on strings held by strangers’ opinions. That discovery cut deep. I had to discipline myself to step back, to stop chasing applause, and to start doing things that aligned with my spirit, even if no one clapped.
It wasn’t easy. There were moments of loneliness when I wondered if my silence made me invisible. But over time, I found peace. By refusing to live for applause, I began to live for truth. My voice grew stronger, and so did my sense of identity. That’s one personal restriction I put on myself, and it has changed everything.
Saying No to Bitterness
Another personal line I draw is against bitterness. Life is full of hurt. Friends betray, loved ones disappoint, and strangers sometimes wound us with their carelessness. I have had moments where anger burned so hot in me, it felt justified to hold onto it forever. I once carried resentment toward someone close to me who had lied, a lie that cost me an opportunity I had worked hard for.
For months, I replayed the scene in my mind like a broken film reel. I wanted revenge, or at least for them to feel the same pain I felt. But the longer I held onto that bitterness, the more it poisoned me. I was the one losing sleep. I was the one tense and drained. They moved on. I stayed stuck.
One day, while taking a quiet walk, I asked myself, What do you gain from holding this anger? The answer was nothing. So, I chose to forgive not because they deserved it, but because I deserved peace.
From that day, I set a rule for myself: I will not let bitterness sit in my heart. Whenever the temptation comes, I remind myself of the freedom forgiveness gives. My discipline here is not about pretending the hurt didn’t happen, but about choosing not to let the hurt define me. That decision has opened up space for joy, compassion, and deeper relationships.
Avoiding Shortcuts
In a world obsessed with speed, I’ve had to discipline myself against shortcuts. Everyone wants success overnight. I’ve seen people cheat exams, falsify documents, or manipulate others just to get ahead. It’s tempting. Who doesn’t want to leapfrog the struggle and taste success instantly?
I remember during my school years, when a friend whispered the answers during an exam. For a split second, I was tempted. No one was watching, and it would’ve been so easy. But I held back. Why? Because I knew that if I built my life on shortcuts, I’d always doubt my own ability. I’d never know if my success was mine, or if it was borrowed.
Years later, when I faced tougher challenges—career tests, financial decisions, and even personal setbacks—I realised the discipline of rejecting shortcuts had trained me for resilience. I knew how to endure, how to work hard, how to build slowly but surely. That’s not a lesson you learn if you always take the easy path. Saying “no” to shortcuts became my way of saying “yes” to real growth.
Guarding My Words
Words are powerful. They can heal or destroy, lift up or tear down. I have learnt the hard way that once words leave your lips, you can’t pull them back. There was a time I spoke carelessly to someone I loved, out of anger. I didn’t mean what I said, but the wound it left was real. I watched trust break in their eyes, and it took months to repair what my reckless words had damaged.
Since then, I made a vow: I will not let my emotions dictate my tongue. That doesn’t mean I stay silent—it means I pause before I speak, I weigh the effect of my words, and I choose kindness even when I’m upset. Guarding my words has preserved friendships, strengthened family bonds, and kept me from regrets that could haunt me for a lifetime.
The Freedom of Boundaries
Looking back, all these personal “restrictions” don’t feel like cages. In fact, they feel like wings. They’ve given me freedom not the shallow freedom of doing whatever I want, but the deeper freedom of knowing I am living with integrity.
Living without boundaries may look like liberty, but often it leads to bondage: bondage to guilt, to regret, to consequences that linger far longer than the thrill of the moment. On the other hand, choosing discipline, guided by belief and personality, brings a kind of peace that no external law can enforce. It is self-respect turned into action.
We all have the legal right to do almost anything. But the question is: what do we allow ourselves to do? What lines do we draw, not because someone told us, but because we know in our hearts that crossing them would take us away from who we want to be?
For me, it has been saying no to living for applause, no to bitterness, no to shortcuts, and no to careless words. Each of these choices has carved a path of peace, integrity, and growth in my life. And perhaps that’s the truest freedom of all: not the ability to do everything, but the wisdom to know what to walk away from.