We don’t give enough credit to the Romanian expression “a fi de capul tău.” It’s often translated blandly as “to be on your own,” but that misses the point entirely.
It’s a combination of to be your own master, to do things your way, to follow your head—all together, in one stubborn, glorious package. A fi de capul tău isn’t just solitude—it’s the head as headquarters. It’s the ego dressed up as command center. A full-blown humanist virtue, disguised as recklessness.

And I genuinely believe every stage of life needs this kind of misguided triumphalism. What could be more glorious than placing your own head at the center of the universe and assuming everything is under control—especially when it clearly isn’t?

Of course, a fi de capul tău comes at a cost. Heads are naturally egocentric. This attitude isolates you. It makes you petty, prejudiced, and (most dangerously) indifferent. But don’t be so quick to judge. Petty? Sure. Prejudiced? Probably. But indifference—now that’s underrated.

Indifference is a brilliant defense mechanism. It’s nonviolent, satisfyingly visible, and long-lasting. You can maintain it for years without therapy, and its success rate is astonishingly high. I’d even go so far as to say it’s the emotional Tesla of self-preservation: silent, sleek, and ethically confusing.

Which brings me back to the point: a fi de capul tău may not be noble, but it works.
Case in point—my teenage years. Most of the choices I made back then were questionable, if not outright terrible. But somehow, that chapter of glorious self-delusion still shines.
A triumphant mess.
My head, my rules.