Saturday, June 18, 2011

Comfortable

If I ever wasn't anything, comfortable was it.
And I don't mean materialistically, either. Though, that did fit for a time.

What I mean is that from the time I was a child, it was instilled in me that the world is a dangerous place. I have my mother to thank for this, though she did it unintentionally. I know every mother wants to protect their child(ren), but my mother took it to the extreme.
My sister and I began staying at home by ourselves when we were just eight and nine years old. Don't gasp and recoil in horror. We didn't burn the place down or have a seance. We did almost kill each other nearly every day, but that's a different story.
What we didn't do was play with friends. Because my mother forbade us to leave the apartment. My sister and I weren't even allowed to cross the street to get the mail, or open the door to let our friends know why we couldn't come out.

When we were older (11-13 & 12-14), my mom, sister, and I lived in a little house with a huge backyard. There was nothing in this backyard, and the only way to get to it was to go out the front door, around to the side of the house, and through a gate.
Did I ever make that trip? Not hardly. Once again, my sister and I were forbidden to leave the house. Every single day for five summers was spent inside.
Later, when my mom granted my sister and I even more freedom, the fear had been installed in us that someone was going to kidnap us as we walked down the street. If I was walking to my friend's house, I had to text or call my mom as soon as I got there.
I was afraid of any approaching person or car. And when my friend and I would walk around at night, I nearly had a heart attack out of fear.
This also affected me at home. Being alone late at night would equal all lights being on, every door locked, and every door to a dark room tightly closed. And walking around in the dark? Forget about it.
I was terrified of my home, my surroundings. Terrified. Nobody should be that afraid of what's around them.

Then, suddenly, I wasn't anymore. Without even realizing it, I could walk home without being afraid that someone was going to snatch me up, or shoot me. Tonight, I walked through my house in the dark, cleaning up quietly to not disturb those sleeping. I'm still working on the whole 'being alone thing', but it's getting there.
My point is, though, that I am finally comfortable with where I am and being there alone. Because someone may be only a scream away, but until that scream comes, I'm alone. Yes, I may be walking down one of the busiest streets in town, but nobody knows who I am. Walking somewhere, being home, or up late at night, I'm alone.

Something I'm finally comfortable with.

P.S. I decided I won't be posting about my vacation on here. It's just too much to ever condense into words.

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