I never had a security blanket, though my sister had a stuffed dog that she kept with her until its fur was gone and the little bell in its ear was so flat it couldn't jingle anymore. When we finally got the real dog she'd wanted for years, it stretched out in her bed and replaced her old stuffed friend. When my husband was very small he had a favorite blanket. My mother-in-law told stories of him holding the corner as it dried on the clothesline. It always made me smile and wish I'd known him when he was a little boy. Both of my daughters had security loveys-- one had a blanket like her father that she called “my soft”. We were lucky to have two of them, exactly the same, so there was no drama on laundry days. My other daughter had little stuffed bunnies, not exactly the same, one was a girl and one was a boy, but they were close enough to be interchangeable. The “home bunny” and “travel bunny” were a godsend that saved us from many a sleepless night. But I always slept alone. Until I got married there was only me in my bed. I've wondered about that often. I'm not a very confident person, in fact my personal insecurities have forced me into a lifelong battle with shyness. So why didn't I cling to a blanket or a bunny? Did I know on some level that they offered no security at all? Maybe instinct told me to feel secure, I needed someone who would hug me in return. All these years later, I still do.
~Elise Skidmore ©2020