I remember having a dream as a kid—to build a community of homes arranged in a cul-de-sac. But instead of a patch of concrete in the center, there would be a shared garden and a playground. A sanctuary designed specifically for mothers who had survived domestic violence. A safe haven with protection from their abusers, where they could begin to rehabilitate and rebuild their lives.
Each woman would have a home to call her own. The communal spaces in the middle would allow them to watch their children play safely from their front porches—maybe for the first time in a long time—without fear. A place where healing could truly begin.
In this dream, mental health services would be free and accessible. The community would lean on each other, pitching in with child care so mothers could go to school, find work, or simply rest. No one would have to constantly look over their shoulder or fight just to survive. Instead, they’d be given the space to grow, thrive, and rediscover themselves.
If you haven’t guessed by now, I was a child who watched her mother work herself to the bone. We were lucky—my grandmother helped care for us. But not everyone has that support system. Our father was abusive, and I’m forever grateful my mom found the strength to leave when I was three and my sister was seven.
Later, I became a single mother myself. Even without the fear of abuse, the struggle was still very real. I can only imagine how much harder it is for someone constantly living in fear, without stability.
As an adult, I now realize how daunting this dream is—but I still believe in it. I’m grateful for organizations like Safe Harbor that provide essential services and temporary housing for survivors. Still, I can’t stop thinking about how impactful it would be to create a true community like this—not just for survivors of domestic violence, but also for people experiencing homelessness.
Everyone deserves a place to call their own. Everyone deserves safety. Substance use shouldn’t be a barrier to having a roof over your head. You can’t expect someone to heal or change when they have no safe place to do so. Sometimes, the simple act of having a door to lock and a space to feel secure can be the first step toward recovery.
No, not everyone can be “fixed” with safety alone—but without it, healing is nearly impossible.
Imagine a world where women are protected from predatory men. A country where homelessness is a thing of the past. Where hope and security are not luxuries, but rights.
Sounds like a damn good dream to me.
Way to go, little me—and your beautiful, brave dreams.
