I didn’t meet my sisters until I was 47.
Before that?
I didn’t know what it was like to look like anyone else.
Trips to the doctor were easy - because I couldn’t answer the family history questions.
And in my adopted family, I was always too much.
Too emotional.
Too loud.
Too big in every possible way.
With my biological family?
I’m the quiet one.
In my adopted family, I’m the youngest - by eight years.
In my bio family, I’m the oldest.
There’s no tidy life lesson in that.
But last week? I missed them.
So, with no meetings on my calendar Wednesday, I rented a car and drove to St. Louis.
No plan. No agenda.
Just: I miss my people.
Because this is what remote work actually offers.
Not “flexibility” like some corporate benefit bullet point.
But freedom.
Freedom to choose what matters.
Freedom to get in the car when you miss your sisters.
Laptop, WiFi, and people who feel like home.
That’s my version of freedom.
What’s yours?
