I wrote this post about a month ago in response to one of the Writer's Workshop prompts at Mama's Losin' It. I didn't post it. But now feel like the right time. This week, Twitter became 'unsafe' for a minute (and possibly much longer - this isn't okay to me.)
“The ache for home lives in all of us, the safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned” ~ Maya Angelou
Home. The place you belong. The place where you are happy?
This quote from Maya Angelou is so true.
Right now, I do not have a home in this context. Sure, I have a house. The same house I've lived in for the past six years. With the same people I've lived with for the past 25 years.
Lately however, I do not feel safe. I have not felt safe in some ways for quite some time, but lately, anytime I say anything or make any decision, I am jumped on. I am either given a look saying "don't bother I don't want to talk to you or hear your concerns" or it's said "shut up, shhh, stop talking." Why thank you?
When people ask me why I use twitter or why I spend so much time on my computer, I'm never quite sure how to answer without offending. I use twitter and I blog because I feel SAFE. I feel like even if no one ever says anything here, I can vent, I can express things that are bothering me. And yet, I'm so sensitive that when someone says something in response on twitter, I am often quick to take it the wrong way. So really, how safe is that?
I cannot right now move. I can however continue looking for a job in a state 1000 miles away. I can continue to look at apartments and imagine decorating. I can dream of making my own home.
And hopefully six months from now, that home will exist.