I gave my boys a lecture today. About the importance of hard work and getting a good job and setting oneself up so they could be independent in their adulthood.

That isn’t where I’d started the talk. It was more from frustration that they were not focusing hard enough on their studies, and that I had to beg them 100 times to do their chores.

But now I’m sitting here reflecting on where my words went as I was pontificating. Independence. Financial freedom and the luxury of decision making that affords. Me, a woman who spent two formative decades in Pakistan where – financially and emotionally – independent women are more the exception than the rule.

When I enrolled in my Master’s program in Pakistan, my father sat me down and gave me a lecture. About how, from that point forward, he considered his role in teaching me about life was moving to another stage. He told me that he had done his best to teach me what he could, and from that day on, my decisions were my own. They were my responsibility.

That is not exactly how anything worked.

In Pakistan, I lived with my parents until I got married and then moved to live with my in-laws. Yes, I had a career. And yes, I had more freedom than many other women around me. But not a single decision – from childhood on, was ever truly my own. Not while at my parents’ house, nor at my in-laws, nor when we moved back to Canada, and I lived just with my husband and children. I hardly ever had the final say in anything. My choices were only implemented if my husband agreed with them. My disagreements with his choices were often tossed aside.

The first time I gained true independence was once I separated from my husband and started living on my own. Only then did I learn in how many ways I was unprepared for so many decisions – simply since they had never been mine to make before.

Now that I am a few years into this freedom, I know one thing: I want to make sure my boys are in a position where they will have the financial and emotional freedoms to make their decisions. I want them to make choices and decisions, make mistakes – and learn from those mistakes – a lot earlier in life than I was afforded the opportunity to do so.

I want them to be strong, kind, and successful. I want them to be happy. And my life and my journeys have taught me that happiness is very highly dependent on whether one has control over one’s life. THAT is what I wish for my children.

And so, if to make that happen, I must be stricter with them, I guess that is what I need to be. I just hope that 20 years from now, they thank me.

Because, despite my irkness at my parents that I was not allowed to make my own decisions, they set me up to know HOW to. I was very strongly encouraged (ordered) to study almost all day. To participate in ever co-curricular activity out there. To get great grades. To read. They built in me a work ethic I depend on to this day.

And for that, I will be forever grateful.