What if love, at its most honest, limits before it liberates?

The Freedom We All Crave

In contemporary culture, freedom is often regarded as the ultimate aspiration. Society frequently tells us that love manifests through the provision of choices. Maturity, we are told, is measured by how much autonomy one is granted. Consequently, in parenting, leadership, and even personal development, the goal often appears to be the ability to choose one’s path without interference.

Yet, certain days confront us with a sobering truth: the most valuable aspects of life are not necessarily chosen. They are received, endured, and at times, imposed. Not through force or coercion, but through love, conviction, and clarity. In retrospect, these moments often become the very experiences we treasure most.

A Day That Reframed Everything

The day in question was a public holiday, the final day of July. Intended as a moment of rest, it unexpectedly unfolded into a day of profound insight. The morning began with a simple breakfast gathering at Emirate Lake, where I was joined by my parents and children. While it appeared to be a routine outing, the stillness of those early hours revealed much more.

My parents, who have always shown generosity and patience, helped feed my children while I attended a nearby meeting. They did not question my absence. Their trust had been earned through years of consistency, mutual respect, and clarity in decision-making.

That morning’s meeting was with a leader from Rock School Malaysia. Though I had not anticipated it, the discussion stirred memories from my own musical journey. I had progressed through the ABRSM grading system until Grade 7, at which point I discontinued my pursuit due to college commitments. While this decision seemed reasonable at the time, I now recognise it was also a form of retreat, a welcomed excuse to walk away from something that had ceased to bring joy.

The conversation highlighted the contrast between traditional music training and Rock School’s more contemporary, enjoyable approach. In a world where children are constantly distracted by digital entertainment and screen dependency, it is crucial that their extracurricular activities offer joy and relevance. These activities must compete with temptations that can lead children away from healthier pursuits.

What children require today is not merely structured instruction but also experiences that are engaging and community-oriented. Observing young individuals who thrive in music reveals more than talent; it demonstrates discipline, obsession with craft, and collaborative joy. These children often develop social agility, academic resilience, and inner discipline. For this reason, I believe that embedding this philosophy into our co-curricular programs at Stellar is not only appropriate but necessary.

This conversation planted a seed. However, the day continued to unfold with further lessons.

When Legacy Walks 10,000 Steps

That afternoon, we brought my parents to LEGOLAND. It was their first visit. While they often avoid spending unnecessarily, they chose to attend out of love for their grandchildren. This is the world they came from, one that prioritizes sacrifice, preservation, and provision for the next generation.

They walked more than 10,000 steps that day. Their participation was not for personal enjoyment, but for the shared joy of being with family. As a gesture of hope and encouragement, I purchased annual passes. It was not for the sake of discounts, but as a quiet message to my father. I wanted him to understand that I hope he will live long enough to use it again. Though he is healthy and well, I remain aware that our time is finite.

That awareness does not depress me. Rather, it compels me to cherish each moment we have. In a subtle way, the act of purchasing that pass was an attempt to say: “Let us make the most of what remains.”

Later that evening, as I dropped Ryan home, he remarked on how quickly time had passed. He noted that it felt as though my wife had just entered the confinement centre, and now she was already home. His words echoed my own reflections. Time does not slow for our convenience. Whether we are present or distracted, it continues. The only decision left to us is whether we will truly inhabit it.

Selling What They Want, Giving What They Need

That night, I participated in a fundraising meeting concerning SME investments. During the discussion, a thought emerged: “It is surprisingly easy to raise funds.” Almost immediately, I felt a quiet internal conviction. A still, guiding voice reminded me that such thinking could mark the beginning of personal decline.

The resources and tools we are given are not meant to serve personal vanity or ambition. They are meant to further purpose. The moment we forget this, we begin to drift. Ego, pride, and the desire for recognition are not always loud. They are often subtle, masked behind what appears to be success.

I am grateful for an internal anchor that reminds me of this truth. It is this relationship with God that enables me to remain grounded. Legacy is not established by momentum alone. It requires clarity of intention.

That same evening, I reflected on a recently published article of mine that unexpectedly went viral. While it was framed as a commentary on artificial intelligence, the core message was about parenting and leadership. The popularity of the article served as a reminder: people often seek one thing, but what they truly need is something deeper.

At Stellar, we are committed to meeting both needs. We engage with people where they are, but we do not stop there. We aim to guide them toward what truly matters.

The Illusion of Knowing

There are three leadership philosophies I have come to hold closely at Stellar.

First, we must acknowledge that we do not know what we do not know. This perspective fosters humility, curiosity, and growth. It is not merely a mantra, but a worldview that shapes our posture toward learning.

Second, we must understand the importance of engaging others through relevance while guiding them toward what they need. Leadership is not simply about direction. It is about discernment, knowing when to challenge, when to listen, and how to elevate those we lead.

Third, and perhaps most challenging, is the understanding that the best things in life are often forced. In today’s culture, which champions freedom and choice, this principle may appear counterintuitive.

Yet, consider the experience of illness. When we fall sick, our bodies urge rest. We often resist food, movement, or even medication. However, recovery requires effort. We must force ourselves to eat, to move, and to accept treatment, even when it is painful or uncomfortable.

Children do not understand this dynamic. They resist interventions because they do not grasp the consequences. As responsible adults, we intervene, not to control them, but to protect them. Sometimes, love must override preference for the sake of long-term well-being.

The Wagyu Truth of Parenting

When I was 25 years old, I envisioned having two children. It seemed like a practical and manageable number. A family of four would fit into a single car. It was efficient.

Today, we have four children. This was not the result of planning, but of trusting wise counsel. Mentors, doctors, and elders all told me the same thing: children are precious.

One doctor, a friend, told me plainly: “You are still young. One day, when you are older, you will understand.” I may not have fully comprehended his words then, but I remembered them. My mentor echoed this advice, encouraging us to welcome more children. At the time, my wife and I were hesitant. But ultimately, we listened.

Parenting four children is not convenient. Our MPV is insufficient for the entire family. Travel becomes difficult. Sleep is often interrupted. Yet, the joy is immeasurable.

To draw an analogy, it is like experiencing the finest cut of Wagyu beef. Until one has tasted it, it is difficult to justify the cost. But once tasted, the value becomes self-evident.

Each child brings transformation, not just to our family, but to me as a person. Parenting does not drain me. It deepens me. It stretches my creativity, sharpens my resilience, and expands my capacity. I would not trade that for anything.

A Love That Knows Better Than You

On one occasion, a friend joked when she saw that my wife was pregnant again. She asked whether we were simply bored. Not long after, she confided in us that she and her spouse had actually hoped for more children, but now it may be too late.

Another friend, who initially set conditions on her marriage to avoid parenthood, accidentally had her first child. She was so moved by the experience that she chose to have a second. Today, she cannot imagine life without them.

These stories are not meant to promote parenthood universally. Rather, they point to a deeper reality. We often resist the very things that would bring us joy and transformation. Fear, worry, and perceived inconvenience lead us to say “no” before we have fully understood what we are saying “no” to.

When someone loves us enough to guide us through our resistance, they are not depriving us of choice. They are preserving our potential.

The Reverse That Redefines It All

We were taught that love means offering choices. Yet at times, love must establish boundaries.

We were told that the best things come easily. Yet many of them begin with resistance.

We believed that freedom lies in choosing for ourselves. Yet sometimes, freedom is discovered when someone chooses for us with wisdom, conviction, and love.

The best things in life are not always freely chosen. Sometimes, they are gently imposed for our good.

If someone in your life is urging you to grow, to change, or to embrace something difficult, consider the possibility that they are acting out of love.

And if you are the one doing the urging, do not be discouraged. You may not be recognized immediately. But in time, you may be remembered as the one who loved with courage and led with clarity.