Liberation Day.

Every fifth of May, the Dutch celebrate Bevrijdingsdag. Liberation Day.

A day that celebrates freedom, gratitude and joy.

And also gives me a slight pinch of discomfort.

The fourth of May we remember the victims of World War II. We stand still. We say the words that have become ritual:

“Never again.”

Wreaths are laid. Silence is held. Stories are told. Those stories are necessary to keep telling.

And then… life continues.

But here's the part that doesn't sit well within me.

Because while we speak those words, our governments still fund wars. From our tax-money.

Alliances tighten (not all very democratic, btw). Narratives shift. Conversations about sending our children into war quietly re-enter. The language of "defense" slowly starts to sound like preparation.

There is much more effort being put in preparation for war than in peace negotiations. Unbelievable, but true.

Questioning this war-drum narrative is not appreciated by the way. It gets you sent to conspiracy-theorist jail straight away. End of discussion. Handy!

But here I am, frantically typing away.

You can feel it all around us, if you're paying attention. Not loud and obvious, but totally present.

Freedom, here and nowadays, is often measured against the darkest chapters we know. Compared to occupation, to war, to holocaust, to fear… yes, we are free.

But is that the bar?

If the only way we recognize freedom is by comparing it to oppression and genocide, we're already playing a strange game.

There are other ways to lose freedom. Slower and quieter ones. More convenient ones.

Not with tanks on the street, but with systems you stop questioning. Not with force, but with gradual agreement, or disinterest. Not all at once, but step by step.

Like a frog in warming water.

At what point do you notice?

When everything you do is tracked and limited? When your behavior becomes data 24/7? When choices start to feel… guided? When autonomy slowly turns into compliance dressed up as safety, convenience and good citizenship? When it is much too late to act?

A freedom lost is almost never regained, history learns us. And we lose a lot of little freedoms at a very high speed. For safety. For the climate. 'For the greater good.'

It all sounds like a no-brainer. But the price is mindbogglingly high.

War, fear and division between people makes the most money for those who profit. Guess what: it isn't you that is profiting... you can send your sons and daughters to the front.

The real question isn't "are we free compared to back then?"

It's:

How free do you actually feel, right now? And how will this evolve for our children?

Freedom isn't just the absence of war, it's the presence of choice. Of voice. Of ownership over your own body, your time, your land, your money, your education, your beliefs, your direction.

The right to be allowed to question things.

And that's where it starts to become pretty uncomfortable.

Because now it's no longer about governments or history. It's about YOU.

Do you speak when something feels off? Or do you stay quiet because it's easier? Do you question what you're told? Or do you outsource your thinking and autonomy? Do you choose consciously? Or do you drift along with what's presented?

No one is coming to "hand you" freedom in its fullest form. Not then. Not now.

Freedom is something you recognize, something you claim. Something you protect, not just in extreme moments like war, but in the small, everyday decisions that shape your life and our society.

So no, this story is not about dismissing what was fought for. Things are not that black or white. Especially not on this theme. It's about respecting the horrors of war enough to stay vigilant.

Not from fear, but from awareness.

Because "never again" only means something if you're also willing to see what's happening right here, right now.

In the aftermath of World War II, something shifted.

What happened was so dark, so extreme, that it didn't just wake us up… it also made us almost too careful. Too polite. Too grateful.

We became a little too comfortable too. Relieved to be "free."

And we've been told that story ever since. How lucky we are, how good we have it in the Western world. What a cool and free country we live in.

I know, I used to think so too. And to a big extent there lies truth in that.

But when I started looking beneath the polished surface there are a lot of cracks to be found in our cool government and society.

While we were looking at what we escaped after WW2, and were looking at countries far away and how things were dealt with over there on the news… we stopped looking at what was being built right under our noses.

Not loud. Not obvious. But steady and pretty much behind the scenes, up to the point that it becomes harder and harder to stop it from being implemented.

Because the decisions are made on a greater scale: global/European etc.

And somehow we silently agreed to all that.

Maybe the real question should be: did "never again" make us extra vigilant… or did it make us actually... more compliant?

For me, a lot of systems that are being built and implemented right now, in our 'free Western world', are terrifying to me. And the silence, the disinterest even around it, terrifies me even more.

Speaking about it gets you labeled a conspiracy theorist straight away. Why? Because it is uncomfortable to look at. I get it.

This story may stir a lot of feelings in you: anger, fear, disbelief, whatever. And that is alright.

This is me, performing my freedoms. Freedom of speech, of thoughts. Speaking up.

We do not all have to agree with each other. That is the whole point.

I refuse to live in constant fear, but I refuse to live in dull and satisfied compliance even more. So that means that I have to speak my truth, even when my voice shakes.

Freedom doesn't live in comfort or blind trust in authorities. That never ended well in history. It lives in what you're willing to see… and what you're willing to do with it.

Love, Annemarijn