After the Cage: Loyalty, Persistence, and True Freedom

When loyalty and persistence are praised, but freedom is forgotten

Walking into perspective: freedom is always the path we choose for ourselves.

Sometimes what unsettles me most is not life itself, but the stories we tell about it. A reality show, a conversation online, even the comments people celebrate can leave me questioning myself. Why do I react so differently? Is it trauma sharpening my lens, or clarity that others prefer not to see?

In The Bird in the Cage I wrote about a truth I sensed as a child: love cannot be forced, and real presence stays only by choice. That image has followed me all my life, reminding me that freedom is at the core of love.

But lately, I have been struck by how often the world celebrates the opposite.

What We Call Loyalty

Again and again, I hear people praise loyalty in ways that unsettle me. If someone clings to another and refuses to let them go, it is called devotion. If someone uses tears, gentle words, or vulnerability to keep a partner from leaving, it is admired as proof of love.

Often this is framed as persistence, the noble refusal to give up. But persistence has two faces. One is staying through hardship with nothing to gain, remaining by someone’s side when they are sick, when they fail, when the world turns cold. The other is refusing to let go, pressing until the other surrenders, using sweetness as strategy.

That second form may look like loyalty, but often it is not. At times it becomes manipulation disguised as devotion, an entanglement that blurs the line between closeness and control.

The Comfort of Pretending

Sometimes I wonder: am I disconnected from reality, or is everyone else simply more comfortable pretending?

It feels as though society has grown numb. We project what looks appealing rather than what is true. We applaud performances of kindness and vulnerability, even when they sometimes hide control. And we often dismiss self-assertion, directness, or strength if it does not fit the script of gentle loyalty.

For me, the end does not justify the means. Persistence without freedom cannot truly be loyalty. Using a gentle tone to persuade someone against their will may look like devotion, but it edges toward quiet manipulation, a subtle erosion of choice hidden behind kindness.

The Wider Optic of Hypocrisy

These dynamics are not limited to love. They show up everywhere: in friendships, in workplaces, in families, in politics.

A colleague may call it dedication when they refuse to step back, but beneath the surface it may be strategy. A leader may frame it as loyalty to a cause, but in practice it can become control.

This is where hypocrisy often hides. We are quick to celebrate persistence when it serves us, and just as quick to condemn it when it threatens us. We tend to reward those who perform loyalty in polished tones, while overlooking or dismissing those who speak the truth plainly.

It is not only a relationship issue. It is also a mirror of how systems reward appearances and label honesty as too disruptive or too much.

Honesty in lyrics, freedom in motion: Joel's words reminded me that persistence without truth becomes just another cage.

A Sunday Morning Reminder

Sunday morning, while driving to a trail with my dog, I played Billy Joel’s Honesty, one of my all-time favourite songs.

The words struck me with unusual clarity. The song reminded me that gestures of affection and persistence mean little without truth. Someone can stay, speak softly, even cry for you, but if there is no honesty, the connection becomes a cage.

As I drove along that quiet road, windows down and the sun beginning to rise, I felt the lesson settle in my body. Appearances may comfort us, but honesty and freedom are what keep us whole. Without them, love is no longer a gift. It becomes a cage with softer bars.

Closing: My Compass

I may never be certain whether what I see comes from past wounds or present clarity. Perhaps it is both.

But I do know this: I cannot celebrate persistence that turns into pressure. I cannot call something loyalty if it costs someone their freedom.

Because the lesson of the bird in the cage still holds true. Love must be free. If it is not, then it is not love at all. The bird must fly, and the song must tell the truth, or neither is love.

The horizon reminds me: appearances may comfort, but only truth and freedom keep us whole.