But what would it mean to “entirely belong to myself”? Is self-possession the way I find security? Or could even this experience be a door to a different way of being, where my dependence is not something I resent but something that I learn is the condition of creaturehood? While this might be an affront to my autonomy, perhaps it is my autonomy that is the source of my dis-ease, not its solution. What if dependence is a gift because it means I’m not alone? What if the welcome I experience elsewhere is how I learn to be human?
