Safe Harbour

As a child, I never wanted to be home. My older brother and I didn’t get a long even before he molested me. My mother favoured him above the rest of us (it’s well known) and she always seemed to be cross with me. I relied on a few of my neighbours for safe places where I could escape.

When I was a little girl, every Sunday my family would drive our next door neighbours to church. And every Sunday I would ask them if I could come to their house for a little while. They always said it was fine if it was okay with my mother. She usually said yes and so I would stay at the neighbours house and play for hours. It was so nice and quiet there.

They didn’t have indoor plumbing, instead they had a pump driven into the ground for household and drinking water, and an outhouse for a toilet. They had an old fashioned wood burning stove for cooking (sometimes they’d let me put a stick on the fire) and let me tell you, it made the best fish and chips I’ve ever tasted.

A little further up the road lived my God-father, and a little further again was where my God-mother lived (and still does live). They were also good to me. There was no harsh criticism, no judgement, no fear of being punished and I didn’t seem to have accidents when I was visiting them. I’m not sure why that is exactly but I think it was because I had access to a bathroom at all times, I wasn’t told to hold it, to wait a minute, I wasn’t out in public where I couldn’t find a bathroom right away, I don’t think wetting myself was trauma induced so much as resulted in trauma…but I digress.

I wasn’t very old when I started running away from home and I always stopped in at the neighbours, my God-father’s and God-mother’s homes to say good-by forever. My parents had a pretty good idea of where I went any time I took off, usually after a fight with my mother or brother. Between my neighbours and God-parents, they would delay my departure by offering me something to eat before I hit the road. They just couldn’t let me leave on an empty stomach. This gave my parents enough time to come get me, usually that fell to my dad, I wouldn’t go with my mom.

Later on, when I got my horse, I would take off and go to the woods alone. Another safe place for me. I would confide in my beautiful animal and just hang out by the small river that flowed there. A peaceful refuge from the worries I had at home.