The Day I Knew I Was Finally Safe

It’s not that the world became less dangerous. It’s that I stopped being afraid of what I’d do if it was.

I didn’t expect today to feel like a turning point — but it is.

Something shifted in me. Not dramatically. Not with fanfare. Just quietly… finally.

I cried a little earlier, not out of sadness, but from a deep sense of recognition. A part of me — probably the boy inside — finally realised just how strong I’ve become. And not in a performative, showy way. But in a real, grounded, sovereign way.

I’ve had the body. I’ve had the training. I’ve had the capacity to protect myself for years — maybe two decades. But I’ve always felt like I needed to be careful with it. Like I didn’t trust it. Like it might explode out or cause damage. Like I had to hold it tightly in check so I wouldn’t become what I feared.

But I don’t feel that anymore.

Now I feel it integrated.

I’m not walking around trying to intimidate anyone. I’m not looking for confrontation. But if someone puts their hands on me, I will handle it. I’ll take them down calmly. I’ll call the police without hesitation. I’ll protect myself with precision, and I won’t feel guilty for a second.

Because I have too much to lose. I have a son to care for. A life I’m building. A body and mind I’ve worked hard to reclaim. I won’t let anyone take that from me.

And it’s strange — this feeling I’m sitting in, it’s not rage. It’s not tension. It’s peace. It’s like I’ve finally welcomed home the part of me I was scared of. The part that used to sit in the shadows, ready to fight or run. He’s not bracing anymore. He’s sitting beside me.

I feel safe now — not because the world is safe, but because I trust myself in it.

The grief I’ve carried — all those years of fear, powerlessness, and pretending I was fine — it’s started to compost. That’s the word that comes to mind. It’s turned into something solid. Something nourishing. Something useful.

It doesn’t feel like grief when you’re in it. It feels like dying. But now I see — after the grief comes the integration. The knowing. The groundedness.

I’m not scared of being tested. I don’t want to be. But if it happens, I’m ready. Calmly. Completely. And without shame.

So yeah… today was the day I knew I was finally safe.

And no one can take that from me now.