A free-schooler’s guide to what a day should look like
- Student Journalist
- Aug 30
- 4 min read

If days are what make up our lives, then why do we fill the fleeting moments doing things that others want us to do?
Hi, I'm Naomi. I’m eighteen years old and I live with my family, my daschunds, my keyboard, and my constant inner monologue. I’ve been unschooled since I was six.
The following are the different highs and lows over my week, woven into a single day.
My morning begins with my furry alarm clocks licking my face while my mom opens the curtains to let the sunshine flood the room.
Today’s one of those days I like the comfort of routine and I immerse myself in my morning chores. The warmth of laundry just fresh out of the dryer, the rhythm of the vacuum cleaner, and the clearing away of clutter freshens my mind up for the day ahead.
Outside, the morning sun grounds, and energises me. I am privileged to live, surrounded by trees and open sky, on the outskirts of Bengaluru, a city marred by pollution and construction dust.
My family settles around the table that is laden with a piping hot breakfast, and we have our daily meeting. It's gratitude time. We reflect on the past few days and search for the little glimmers that made us happy.
In her turn, Grandma recalls how she loved the recent meetup with a musical family - we had jammed for hours and composed a song together.
With those warm feelings in our chests, we proceed to discuss our plans for the day/week.
It’s time for my first self-study session - grade 10 psychology. The thought of sitting down with the textbooks brings up a wave of anxiety and resistance.
I set a timer and tell myself that I just have to make it through one page at a time. Throughout my study session, I create flashcards and write tests that are reviewed by mom.
One of the bright sides of unschooling is the freedom to take the board exams when one is ready. If I were in a mainstream school, I would've finished my 10th and 12th boards by now. But it would've been out of this place of wanting to satisfy the expectations of society rather than with the inner motivation I carry now.
I've discovered that one of the things that sets me on fire is understanding and working with mental health. This has led me to a possible career path of a psychologist - more precisely, a somatic therapist. And my board certificates are simply the currency to give me access to higher studies.
The timer rings. It's time to move on to something that brings me more joy. I check my whiteboard for the list of things I want to do this week.

There's a modelling assignment, a singing performance for the opening of a bookshop cafe, and a mentorship call in music production. Oh, I also have this article to finish writing, busy week ahead!
I practise Carnatic and Western vocal warmups and then my setlist for the performance. Ah! Nothing like losing myself in the flow-state of music. I do a little bit of writing for this article and then head for a nap.
Speaking of naps, the concept of productivity is a constant tug-of-war with my inner critic. Like the rest of us, I have also been conditioned to believe that my worth as a human being is deeply tied to achievement, how much I can show for it in a day.
In reality though, my capacity for doing things varies from day to day, and with it, I'm learning to shift my definition of productivity. I embrace the days which don't meet my own conditioned standards of productivity as much as I embrace the days which do.
Post nap and lunch, it’s time for my second study session. Not very different from my first. This time I work through my resistance by body doubling online with a friend (parallel studies/work over a video call). The satisfaction of a thorough study session is yet to be beaten.
I keep an eye on the clock to make it on time for basketball class. Movement is very important to me.
And the two and a half hours of rigorous exercise, three times a week, helps me tune into my body and get out of my headspace.

On days when I don’t have basketball, I cherish my walks beside the sunset. This is my time for freewriting and poetry. Sometimes, it's a long cycle ride along a familiar path in the park, where I call a friend or listen to music.
I wind down the day by watching a movie with the family or composing the next part of a song on the keyboard or computer. I find the nighttime is one of the best times for creative work.
Before bed, I pop a batch of caramel popcorn to take to a meetup with my friends, the next day. It's gonna be a day of recharging and laughter!
I curl up in bed with my journal, while my sister strums the ukulele, and the dogs snuggle under the blankets.
I turn the pages of my “Life Thriving Project” journal. I notice and jot down
the things I did that made me feel whole and
the ways I still need to enrich my days to make them thrive.
I am constantly surprised by how the journal manifests new opportunities and beginnings. I think pouring intentionality into what you want your life to look like makes all the difference.
Sidenote: Speaking of my day, I haven't even begun to talk about how I wield the double-edged sword - screens. The dilemma of needing to be on social media while not wanting to be on it etc. But that's for another day.
With that I bring to a close, my inner monologue. Thank you for being subject to it for the past 5 minutes.
Have a nice “day” ;)
Written by Naomi
Hi! I'm Naomi and I'm an 18 year old unschooler. I love making music, writing, and conversations that leave me feeling warm :)
On days when I'm not found scribbling song lyrics down on the closest piece of paper, I'm usually out on a walk staring at the sky or sitting with my head deeply buried in a book
Hi Naomi,
Congratulations on your attempt to paint the picture about your take on personal life in the face of societal pressure.
Writing is a powerful tool to understand ourselves; you’ve shown great courage and creativity by putting your emotions into words.
It’s not always easy to express what’s in our hearts, but you’ve done something truly special. Keep writing, keep dreaming, and never stop exploring the world through your words.
All the best
Sanath, My blessings to Naomi. Also tell her that this Easwaran grandpa was Class first in School final exams but turned into ' a lunatic' because of his passion for writing, he was last in the College level. He was the last in the college to get a degree ( MPC group). The Almighty was kind enough to get him a BOB jobjob, that too, he having not applied himself, for the same. His younger brother did it for his 'Anna'. His younger brother brought / introduced Reynolds pen itto India and gave him a good pen to write. His first sale started with his friends in BOB.
The New Gen...living every moment