When “Freedom” Feels Like Drifting
Hi! you can call me Jason and I’m 35 this year and a freelancer. I usually take on projects, run gigs, and do some consulting. My schedule is flexible, and my income is decent. From the outside, it seems like I live a pretty “free and respectable” life—no clocking in, no commuting, I work when I want, sleep when I feel like it. It looks like freedom, but in reality, it often feels like drifting at sea, with an empty heart.
I can say i dont have any clear goals, no one pushing me forward. Every day I wake up and procrastinate, telling myself “just a bit more rest,” and by night, I’m too anxious to sleep, constantly asking myself, “What am I doing with my life? What else can I even do? I started to feel anxious and can’t sleep well” I used to think it was just a temporary slump—that a change of environment, going abroad, or a short vacation would fix it. But when this state of “drifting” lasted a year, then two, I started to wonder: am I really just wasting my life away? The version of me who once believed in freedom above all… seemed to be fading.
Not Lazy, Just Lost: A Fact that a Common Freelancer Struggle
I’m not a failure, nor am I lazy. I’ve just… kind of lost myself. The scariest part isn’t how hard life gets, but how numb you slowly become. Everything you eat, everything you do feels like just going through the motions. There’s nothing you truly desire anymore, and you have no idea where you want to go. Whenever friends invite me out, I smile and say, “Been really busy lately.” When my family asks when I’ll settle down, I brush it off with, “Freelancers don’t need stability.” But the truth is—I’ve been lost for a while, not losing my job but losing my pace.
Somehow a day, I came across Pop Institute Pte Ltd again. I’d heard of it before—some people online said it was healing, others dismissed it as a cult. Some said, “One good cry changed my life,” while others called it emotional manipulation. I didn’t believe the extremes, but I was curious: what kind of workshop makes people either love it or hate it so strongly? I also started to wonder—have I, someone who always claims to be “rational and independent,” actually been avoiding my own emotions?
I didn’t tell anyone—I just signed up quietly. I wasn’t expecting it to change my life, nor was I trying to “find motivation.” I just wanted to see: what might happen if I actually allowed myself to pause?
I don’t remember all the details of the process, but I do remember this: I finally got the chance to really hear the voice inside me. That voice had been buried for so long. I thought I knew what I wanted, but only later did I realize that my so-called “wants” were just templates given to me by society: freedom, wealth, influence, no constraints. But I had never actually asked myself: “Is that really what you want?”
In that space, there were no roles, no labels, no one judging if you were “successful enough.” I was just a 35-year-old person—tired, a bit lost, and kind of wanting to cry. I thought I came to find direction, but I realized I’d never even given myself the chance to admit, “I’m lost.”
Living With Awareness, Not Autopilot
After going back to daily life, I didn’t suddenly become ultra-motivated or discover my life’s calling. I’m still working, still occasionally staying in bed too long, still scrolling late at night. But I’m no longer “drifting unconsciously.” Now, I move forward with awareness. I no longer use “freedom” to mask my longing for stability, and I’ve stopped laughing at people who take life too seriously. Because I finally understand—those who live with intention aren’t pretending. They’re just brave enough to take responsibility for their lives.
I’m writing this not to promote anyone, but to say something to you—if you’ve ever felt lost too: You’re not weak, and you’re not a failure. You’ve just gone too long without listening to yourself. The Pop Workshop isn’t a miracle drug or a shortcut to success. It’s just a space, a chance—a starting point if you’re willing to face yourself. You can be skeptical, you can take it slow, but please—don’t give up the chance to rediscover who you are.
