There were rules on my pre-American childhood. Strict rules - but as you say, there was freedom - I thought nothing of cycling off into the mountains alone in the winter, of getting on a train and going to the city to meet friends, of building a treehouse in the woods complete with punji traps.
Cue America. I spent most of the year I was at school there being suspended for such misdeeds as walking the few miles home instead of waiting for a broken down school bus, climbing trees, and sword fighting with sticks; being a kid, in short. Hell, they even suspended me for reading under the desk, because I usually finished the period assignment in the first 5-10 minutes.
The breaking point was when I cycled from our ‘burb to downtown Chicago to meet a friend for a movie. My parents knew where I was, it was the weekend.
Another parent from the same school spotted me cycling around downtown. Called the police. I got home that evening to find half a dozen cops sat there at the house, threatening my parents with me being put into care, them being imprisoned, and all the rest. Apparently I was in mortal danger by... being on a bicycle without an adult?
After that, they didn’t want me going anywhere without them or another adult. I ended up just not going anywhere.
I went back to school in the UK.
Also, the education was years behind that which I had had previously - I mean, they only had two subjects - “soclish” and “sciath”. “Bored” didn’t even begin to cover it.