Today I joined a Write For Recovery Workshop and one of the exercises was to write about our safe places~
My Safe Place
When I was a little girl I dreamed that my parents were not my real parents. Somehow these people, imposters, had gotten a hold of me and my real family was out there somewhere searching for me. My real parents were a King and a Queen from a magical land far far away and I was their princess. We lost each other and I knew that they were still looking for me. Every little girl they saw must have reminded them of me. So I drew pictures of crowns and the magical land and I taped them to my window because I just knew that they would find me. They would drive down they street and see those pictures and they would know that that's the house that I was in. They would pull up to my house in a long white limo, and I would run to them and they would take me away. They would take me away from all the anger, hurt, fear and pain that this fake family had shown me. And I would return to my kingdom. Once again I would live in that giant castle. The castle that had 200 rooms and long long stairways that took me and mommy forever to climb. There I had new siblings and we all got along. We played all day in the orchard, rode our unicorn pets through the forest, and splashed in the ponds that surrounded the yard. There was green grass as far as your eyes could see, and the weather was always perfect. Flowers blossomed always and none ever died. The flowers surrounded the back yard and some were tall enough that you could play hide-in-seek in them. There were magical fairies that played with us and would keep me company while I hid from my siblings. I would tell the fairies my secrets and they were my best friends.
Inside the house mother was always busy with something. She cooked us the best foods and cleaned the house so we never got sick. She would read us stories and sing us lullabies. This was my favoriate part of the day, sitting in her lap as she sung to me before bed, rocking me ever so gently in the rocking chair until slowly I started to drift off to sleep. Tucking me in and kissing my head I felt safe here, safe enough to sleep. I know nothing bad would happen. There were no worries in this magical land. There was no violence here and all that surrounded was love. This magicial land and all its splender kept me going through some of the worst times. Though I knew it wasn't real, the hope was enough in the moment. Every night I would pray that my real family would finally knock on the door and bring me out of this house of terror. That they would save me from the pain and let me be a child, and I would run into their arms and forever I would stay. Sometimes I still pray for them to come, sometimes I still need arms to run into.
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