Where is my Cocoon?

Where is the safe place, the place for my metamorphosis?

Photo by Walter del Aguila on Unsplash

I made my bed and then slept in it for almost three decades. But it was uncomfortable. It was lumpy, cold, and lonely. The sheets were rough and there was little rest for my body or soul. It felt, at times, that I had nothing that was my own. Everything was his. I was his. The children were his. The home, the cars, the things…all of…