Comfy
Street;
the area surrounding our home,
where we feel comfortable to be,
a zone that we feel fearless in.
I remember when I had moved out of home, after high
school, I moved from one country town to another. I lived with three other girls and I remember
our one condition on finding ‘the right’ rental was to get a place that was
within 10 minutes walk of the main drag, because, that’s where the night clubs
were. Priorities!
We did just that.
It was awesome, we only had to walk to the end of the main street, over
the railway bridge, a block or two and we were home.
And we did just that, for a couple of years.
Most of the time we walked together, or we’d have extra
people staying with us, so there was usually someone to walk with. But occasionally, you’d wonder home by
yourself, because, it was comfy street.
No biggy, a route you’d done a million times before.
I’ll never forget the day our landlord (a lovely family)
called us girls to make sure we were OK.
The night before, a night we’d all walked home, a girl had been
murdered. She was a good girl, walking from one pub to the next opting to leave
her car behind.
She could have been any one of us.
And that was in the country!
Moving forward a few years and I moved to Melbourne, the
big smoke. I thought I would have been
more diligent, more responsible. I lived
on Fitzroy Street in St Kilda and that became my comfy zone.
It didn’t matter that seedy men where trawling the back
streets looking for prostitutes, or loads of alcohol fueled people were
wandering the streets. Hell I was one of
them. Drinking more than I needed, wandering home, often by myself. I mean I only lived at the end of the street.
It really doesn’t matter where you are. We hear awful stories from all over the world
and still think it’s not going to happen in our comfy zone.
But it can.
Just because we walk a road a million times
Just because we can walk home with our eyes closed
Doesn’t mean we should.
We don’t go out and party on our own, let’s not go home
by ourselves either.
Mandy
We often mistake familiarity for safety, and we get comfortable. It's so unfair though, we should be able to walk home in our neighbourhood without something horrible happening to us. What is wrong with some people?
ReplyDeleteI remember being a teenager, annoyed that my Dad didn't want me going to Westfields. When he said his reason was "I don't want you to end up in a sports bag in the Parramatta River" I thought he was being ridiculous, though now I see he was just being realistic. It happens, unfortunately. It's not right, it's not fair, but it happens.
You are so right! But I think most of us have done it!
ReplyDeleteSo true (and obviously, timely).
ReplyDeleteIt's with a little shame I think back to some of the risks girlfriends and I took after a night out in the past.
I certainly wouldn't want my children doing the same now.
xx