ONE OF Nine Questions for Journaling and Introspection
– Where do I Feel Safe
@vanessaandheriphone
Out of the nine questions, one really stood out as a topic
to explore. The question at first seemed
simple enough to answer. But when
thinking of the response, I found it was a much more complex question. One that I needed to dig deep and explore. The question was “Where do I Feel Safe?”
When I thought of the question, the first thing that came to mind
was ‘in Walter’s arms.’ Immediately I
felt a knot in my throat and the walls of my chest tighten around my heart,
squeezing all the air out of my lungs.
Then followed emotions encircling me like a cyclone. I couldn’t answer “where
do I feel safe”. Thoughts swirled around me, the intensity uprooting questions I needed to explore.
I first tried to think back to moments where I could
honestly say that I truly felt safe. I
suppose it was before I learned about life and what kinds of dangers can lurk
in the shadows. Back to when movies
monsters and the boogey man under the bed were what nightmares were made of. If I woke up from a bad dream, I knew I’d be
safe with Mom and Dad. They were only
across the hall from my room.
Like yesterday, I can easily recall those nights. First, I’d have to gather the courage to
crawl out from underneath my blankets, then prepare to make the mad dash from
my bed, out the door, across the hall to my parents’ room, and hop up on their
bed. My eyes would scan the dark room,
looking for potential danger. Could
there be a monster in that corner, peeking at me through the crack between the
closet doors, or would hands reach out from under my bed? I’d create an escape plan, from where to
place my feet on the floor to reduce the chance of being grabbed. Next, take a few deep breaths, gather up the
courage, then make the mad dash, jumping off the bed onto the area rug, then
run across the cold hardwood floor out my door, across the hall and scramble all the way up on my parents’ bed, crawling
over Mom to snuggle in between them. I could then breathe a sigh of relief, knowing that I was safe, no monster or boogey man
would ever chance stepping near us.
As I grew, my small world grew. From the perimeters of my neighborhood, to
encompass the world beyond my parents’ purview.
Dangers existed beyond the imaginary monsters under my bed. Boogey men were
real, not just those which lived in our TV.
From a child growing into adulthood, I learned that danger came in many
forms: people, actions, words. Malice incites
fear and insecurity.
Since reading the question “where do I feel safe”, I ‘ve
spent considerable time trying to scan through the decades, searching for
another moment which conjures a sense of feeling safe. There may be small snippets throughout the
years, but nothing exceptional, nor complete.
Except for my time with Walter.
I remember when Walter and I first met, and how when he
first put his arms around me for our first dance. He gently enveloped me, emanating such a sense
of security. To describe it would be a protective,
calming strength. As our relationship grew,
the more we shared not just time together, but thoughts, worries and insecurities. Trust quickly built – solid, supportive, judgement-free. The days where I felt weak, vulnerable, spent;
I just needed to hear his calming voice, even if only over the phone, I could
feel the stress, that pressure in my chest wane as he comforted me.
Through Walter, I learned how to be completely vulnerable. So freeing. I could be as silly as I wanted, could bare
all, body, mind, and soul, knowing that he accepted every bit of me without
judgement, and with love. I knew without
a doubt that he would always protect me, comfort me, encourage me. Walter would be there to scare away the monsters; pick me up if I fell,
brush off any negativity and offer his shoulder to lean on so I could carry
on.
After his death, there huge void in my chest, the spot
he once filled. My comfort, my security
gone with his last breath, leaving me weak, vulnerable. Over time, as I worked through my grief, step
by step, the overwhelming void started to shrink as it gradually filled with memories of him, of us. With each flip of the page on the calendar, my
strength grew, creating a new sense of self. As months turned to years, I’ve worked to build
a solid foundation for myself. Using Walter’s
words, I try to encourage, comfort, and reassure myself. I use those softer words to be kinder, less
judgmental.
Will I ever feel safe within another’s arms? I really couldn’t say, as I have no idea what
the future holds. What I do know
is that I've developed a desire to experience, to explore. To accept with grace and enjoy what fate has to offer.
The emotion and fluster caused by the question “where do I feel safe” has waned with each word I write. Each sentence brought me closer to my answer. I am strong. I am brave. I strive to be true, be vulnerable, yet find the balance to feel safe, secure, and confident in myself. I can scare away the monsters from under my own bed.
Where do I feel safe? The answer is within me.
