As we sat at the edge of the noisy bar, we talked about experiences, shared and different. I told her things which wouldn't be normal conversation given we'd only just met, and she did the same. She was further down her path, but it hadn't been a straight line. There'd been setbacks and retrenchments. I listened closely knowing there were lessons to be had whether she was offering them intentionally or not. I'd told her of my fears, of the worries I had about the manner in which things might go completely off the rails, and how close things had come to reaching that point.
It was important to find a safe fallback, a point in life you could retreat to when the world was unsupportive, she told me. I paused and thought for a moment before I replied.
"I can't go back," I told her. There were no tears. I was resolute. "I can't give up my progress. If I can't stay here, it's been all for nothing." Her warning had not fallen on deaf ears: I recognized the fragility of my position, making it all the more important to heed.
I quickly beat a path down the hill, but there was no rain. On this day, at least, safety came easily.
Step 89: Figure out your safe space, and find a way there should you need it; there is no future you if you can't preserve current-you