Freedom and Joy through Commitment
Embracing what matters most transforms life’s compromises into deep fulfillment
AI-generated TL;DR:
“Commitment brings joy and fulfillment, turning everyday compromises into meaningful connections. True freedom isn’t in endless choices but in aligning commitments with your authentic self. Embracing responsibility for what you hold dear deepens purpose and alleviates loneliness. Through commitment, we create lives rich in love, belonging, and lasting purpose.”
I woke up this morning thinking about commitment.
The day began with my toddler's babbles, pulling me out of bed 90 minutes earlier than I might otherwise. On the way to brush my teeth before picking him up, I pause to rub Peanut’s sleepy belly. She wags her tail in gratitude, and I think, “I’m committed to giving you a good life”—which means more walks and runs, even in the cold, even when I wouldn’t if she didn’t exist.
I cross the room to the bathroom, thinking of this house with a yard—a mortgage we took on for Peanut. For Lucas. Images flood my mind of all the commitments leading to this point: renting a beach house where Peanut and I could run each morning, meeting my husband and knowing he was the one to build a life with, a home filled with kids, dogs, and projects.
All the above came with a level of compromise.
Waking up a bit earlier than we otherwise would. Walking a lot more, especially when it’s cold. Going out less than we would, or choosing more dog- and toddler-friendly places over the cozy speakeasy bars you’d otherwise find me in when I was on my own. But when carried with meaning, compromise isn’t sacrifice; it doesn’t bring pain—it brings the exact opposite: joy, gratitude, and love.
Every time I pull myself out of bed to my toddler’s cries, my heart looks forward to holding him, whether to soothe him or share in his early morning laughter. I’m grateful he exists, that he’s here, alive, and healthy.
Every time Peanut whines to go out, even in the freezing cold, it brings me joy just to watch her happy trot and wagging tail.
My husband, our home, ourselves—all our commitments are ways to give a better life to those we love. We commit to things we feel responsible for and they give us back infinite, indescribable joy.
And that’s what I think adulting (or maturing) means.
To find joy through commitment.
Commitment as the Path to Freedom
I had a hunch about this a couple of years ago, as I moved from a free, globe-trotting life I’d built myself into something more settled and committed. This was long before I met my husband or welcomed Peanut into my life.
Until then, I had probably been afraid of commitment, valuing my independence above all else. Freedom was my core value. And I came to realize that it still is—but true freedom isn’t about having endless choices; it’s making decisions that resonate deeply with who you truly are.
In my 20s, I relished the freedom to make any decision, to go anywhere, anytime. But eventually, the thrill faded; I no longer found value in dropping everything to spend six months in Bali, booking a creative writing course in Norfolk on a whim, or moving from SF to Lisbon chasing a romantic dream that never quite held up.
That kind of freedom started to feel like pressure.
As an anxious, over-achieving person, every opportunity felt like something I had to pursue. A sunny day couldn’t just be spent indoors, reading or recharging. I’d pour long hours into work tasks, often with results that didn’t match the effort—simply because I had the time and felt compelled to fill it. I was always busy.
But maybe true freedom is found through commitment—and the compromises that it brings, which make you less available. I’d had this hunch, for a long time: commit to the right things, and they’ll set you free.
If you commit yourself to what truly holds meaning for you.
Commitment Leads to the Right Path
When you commit to what truly matters to you, that commitment often brings hard but worthwhile choices—waking up a bit earlier, working out more, watching what you eat, spending less, writing for ten minutes each day...
Whatever your commitment, as long as it’s genuine, it guides you toward the right decisions, bringing you closer to where you truly want to be over time.
Commitment leads you to the right places.
There’s a difference between being free and living opportunistically. And hear me out: there’s nothing wrong with the latter, especially in that exploratory stage where you’re figuring out who you are and what you truly care about (like I was in my 20s). I’m grateful for my exploratory self, always open to new opportunities—some of which weren’t right for the long term but still led me here.
Every decision brought me closer to where I am now, even if it didn’t align perfectly with my true self at the time. The chance to try, to test, and to fail was essential, even if it meant taking the wrong step.
I wish young people had more time and freedom to carve their own paths and make a few wrong decisions too. Wrong steps validate the right ones. They make your path feel more secure because, without regrets, you’ll know you had the freedom to explore but still chose this path.
With all its hardships and compromises, I know my current path brings me real love, true joy, and a deep gratitude for every moment I breathe and look around, surrounded by all this love.
I know better now, thanks to allowing myself to try—and fail—so many times.
Commitment as the Way Out from Loneliness
At the height of my free-spirited, career-driven life, I felt lonely.
In 2018, I was living in the pre-COVID hustle of San Francisco, working a well-paid tech job as Head of Community for a global innovation firm, helping build startup ecosystems worldwide. My calendar was packed with cool weekly events—ecstatic dance, cacao ceremonies—and I was in a long-distance, Brazilian soap-opera-worthy relationship. And yet, I felt miserably alone.
I wrote about this in my book and don’t want to indulge in self-misery again—just believe me when I say it was the classic “I don’t want to be alone,” yet I was too afraid to go out and be seen, fearing people would see through me or think I was a “downer.”
As I later learned from friends who went through the same, I probably wasn’t a downer, and definitely not unworthy of love. I should have reached out and opened up, but I didn’t know how better. It took me a while just to recognize the problem, even though I had already written about it in depth. Have you ever heard of a lonely community builder? I hadn’t, until then—but now I know that loneliness is probably a very common feeling among people who enjoy bringing others together, especially those who crave a deeper sense of connectedness.
As Virginia Woolf put it: “Mrs. Dalloway is always giving parties to cover the silence.”
That profound sense of disconnect was one of the most heart-wrenching experiences of my life but also one of the most meaningful. It showed me the other side of belonging in a very real way.
Loneliness isn’t the lack of connection but the lack of meaningful ones. I came to see that commitment—to the right things—was the way out of loneliness.
Commitment is built on meaning.
When you commit to something—be it a person, animal, or cause—you commit to its well-being. As Antoine de Saint-Exupéry says in The Little Prince, “Tu deviens responsable pour toujours de ce que tu as apprivoisé.” Often translated to English as “you become forever responsible for what you tamed,” I prefer the Brazilian Portuguese version which uses the word “captivated” instead. You’re eternally responsible for all you’ve captivated.
In my view, it means: you’re eternally responsible for all you hold dear.
When we captivate something, we care for it, and caring is the beginning of commitment. Taking responsibility for something beyond ourselves is the beginning of making our lives matter. Commitment means caring for something beyond ourselves. As commitment begins, loneliness has to end. Eventually.
Commitment is a Lifelong Journey
Commitment is a journey—a beginning sparked by attraction, a deepening through engagement, and, often, no true end. In building communities and personal relationships, commitment itself becomes the destination.
For instance, my commitment to fostering human connection defines every step I take and drives every choice I’ve made, from writing a book on authentic belonging to joining Timeleft as Head of North America—both demanding dedication and discipline. My commitment to my family—my son, my dog, my husband—shapes everything I do, guiding my priorities and even nudging me out of bed earlier than I might otherwise. It’s also the foundation of other commitments: to my health, my growth, my purpose.
Through commitment, we discover not only freedom but also the profound joy of meaningful connections. These intentional ties—to people, places, and purposes—fill our lives with meaning.
In becoming responsible for what we hold dear, we gain a deeper, more reliable freedom—a grounding that lets us live in true alignment with our values.
Commitment isn’t a limitation; it’s the truest expression of who we are, allowing us to craft a life filled with love, purpose, and belonging.
What are the commitments that shape your life?
Are there ways you could align more deeply with the paths that feel truest to you?
Wishing you a purposeful path ahead.