She is looking outside through the window, for answers somewhere on the horizon. She looks for other solutions without stopping, opening door after door without moving forward. She feels trapped, and every single evening, whilst closing her blinds at her window, she is actually closing down her expectations.
She feels overwhelmed for not being able to change, for letting her life lead her rather than being in charge. Her life is a jail, each small detail reminds her that she did not chose anything. When looking at herself in the mirror, she does not recognize herself, many years have passed and sher is not what she was, either what she could have been.
She finally understands that her jail is inside, deep there, anchored and so hard to break. She is aware that she is her own slave and she wants to run away.
We are all slaves of something, someone, ourselves. Being free means recognizing the barrs of our cage, being aware of our legacy and fighting against it. So what is your jail?