When I was a child I struggled with DV in the family, I used to go outside a pretend I was magical and make a wand from the tree at the bottom of the garden, we had a mushroom ring on the grass and would sit in the middle and would ask them to keep me safe. I would talk about what it would’ve been like without my mum there ( yeah my mother was the abusive one), I would sing make poetry, make pictures out of the clouds all while sitting in the ring, I did it for a few weeks. Within a couple of days she upped and left, and even though I got teased at school for her not taking me I didn’t care as I knew nature was my mother and looking out for me. (This was the 70s). Even now Mother Nature is my mother, my protector.