Ruminations upon the unsafe

The concept of safety eludes me. I know I consider myself people at the daily advance of kids and where we need to be makes the practical safety hard to imagine. I want to be safe and share something with my husband, but our kids are always there, our kids are always getting in the way. And it just never seems like the right time to be safe and to be vulnerable. 

I saw my friend (and sister) recently and felt like I wanted to share my writing with her, we are one of my poems. It was something I had been thinking about for a long time but it was never the right time for one reason or another. When I got ready to share my writing my son started screaming and interrupted the mood. What if I am safe because I haven't had time to myself? What if that promulgates my unsafely?

What if, given the time and emotional energy, I really am safe? What if it is unfair to myself to call myself unsafe? 

I can barely manage time by myself or time with my husband. How can I be expected to have the time to be safe with other people? Is 10 little ears are always listening, always over here and everything I have to say. I love them but I am starting to understand why I'm so exhausted. 

I long to have that on interrupted time with my friends...what if by the time I get there i've forgotten what it's like to be safe? What if my unsafety isn't from something that happened to me? What if my  unsafety isnt from being victimized or abused but rather because of other things.