Inward

When a child is born, rest must follow. The mother and the newborn must be cozy and comfortable and the world must become a stable place where the baby can grow and explore without danger.
I never had that. My father beat my mother during her pregnancy. She actually spent the last 2 months in the hospital, for fear of losing the baby (me). When she came home, father was convinced the baby was not his and beat her again. My mother gave me to my Grandma, at 6 months and I stayed there without almost seeing my parents for 3 years. Then, one day, they showed up and took me away from the safety I knew at Grandma's. They took me to the hell hole they called a home. My father started abusing me when I started kindergarden (around the age of 3). He was a demented sociopath, drunk most of the time, telling me how I was stupid because I let him take advantage of me, as if we were equals, as if I had a choice.
Now, I find my life to be a safe place. I'm not used to this. I'm waiting for something evil to happen out of nowhere. I'm anxious and socially awkward. Oddly enough, the depth of my being feels like a newborn: I don't know anything and everything around me is new and scary. Thing is, this time, I can enjoy it. This time I can feel cozy for a while, get bored with the stability, explore the world around me in a safe way. I need to learn what safety feels like, so that I can reproduce it later for my kids. There will be plenty of times for me to take chances and live adventurously, in the future. Now, I just want to curl onto myself and sleep in a corner of my soul, where it's cozy and no one can hurt me. I feel like an egg that hasn't hatched yet. I can take my time and come out only when I'm ready. Let's just hope I'm not only repeating a pattern.