Finding Safety
I dropped a blue glass bowl on the floor yesterday and it shattered into a thousand little pieces. “Nooo!” I braced for the ridicule from my watching parents—but none came. They were completely chill. My dad commented on how artistic the broken scene looked while my mom grabbed a broom and cheerfully swept it up.
Something inside of me healed in that moment.
Since I’ve been quarantining with my parents after a heavy season of change and growth, I’ve noticed that the person I used to be in this house is very different from the person who is now emerging.
I used to hold on so tightly to my perfection and my pride. So afraid of making a mistake. So afraid of being seen in a state of weakness or uncertainty.
But something about messing up in plain sight and experiencing such a gentle response opened up a path of safety that I rarely allow myself to feel.
Safety to try and fail. Safety to disappoint. Safety to not fit into someone else’s ideal. Safety to risk rejection. Safety to need a little help. Safety to be seen in my vulnerability.