Safe Equals Who Stays

I started this blog because I wanted to write and put my writing out into the world. I wanted to tell the truth and share what I learned through the course of my life. I had good intentions but I lost sight of the fact that the truth is not always happy. Sometimes the truth is brutal and dark but I have only shared the happy, positive truth.

I can only sit here and write because of where I’ve been. I can only write the truth because of the places I came from and the pain I went through. My life is good, I am in a good place but things were not always this way. The truth is not always happy and it is not always a positive lesson. 

Yesterday morning I sat down to write and I could not think of anything. So, I went on Instagram and I found something that sparked this post by breaking my heart open. Jen Pastiloff, who I love and follow, posted about losing her father. She posted the last picture with her father before he died and how it was the last time she felt safe in the world because to her as a child, safe equals what stays. 

Safe equals what stays. I get that, my 12-year-old self gets that, and on my really bad days my 23-year-old self gets that. The last time I felt safe in the world was before my father died. Since then I have chased safety around, whether I thought safety was a person or a place. Nothing was safe for long because said person left or I had to leave said place. I used to think safety had to do with love; loving someone and being loved in return would make me feel safe. It did until it didn’t.

Here’s what I think; we lose our sense safety to be sent on a journey to find it again. My whole life since I lost my dad has been a journey of trying to feel safe again. I have felt safe for short periods of time. I hope someday when I grow up and have my own family I can find safety there. Until then, I know that feeling of safety is something I will search for daily.

I am not sure I will feel safe forever because what I lost the day my father died was my childhood. I was forced to grow up. I was forced into the world. The world was no longer safe and good because the person who made me feel like the world was safe and good was gone. My dad was gone. I did not feel safe. He did not stay.

I cannot get my childhood back, I cannot go back to a place where the bad in the world is a mystery to me. But I know this for sure, safety no longer equals who stays. My safety is no longer wrapped up in a person because the my dad is gone. My dad and my safety are gone but I am still here. I have been keeping myself safe since my dad passed and I will continue to keep myself safe. That is the truth. It has been a brutal lesson over and over again but I am safe and I am here.  

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