"Dev, you have so many walls up that you refuse to let anyone see who you are and can be," they said. "I understand why because you've been through so much and got hurt so badly, but you've walked around for most of your life practically dead and closed off."
While I smiled and nodded and meekly agreed, my Yang was screaming at me with a very blunt response to their observations.
This is really a surprise?!
If our experiences shape both who we are and who we will become, I figured out at an early age the only way I was going to get this far was to make sure I was as insulated as possible from the things that are most potentially hurtful. In that respect, I can't think I'm any different than anyone else.
Admittedly, I've taken it to an extreme because I felt I had no choice.
As I explained to one of my friends last night, I've understood that my purpose in most people's lives is to be a fixer or a caretaker. If someone has a problem, they come to me. If a substitute or a stand-in is needed, they come to me. I fill the role or do the work, and then when it's done, I'm discarded. With incredibly rare exception, I feel like I am both expendable and/or disposable while I hold those I care most about so close, that I can't bring myself to let them go.
"You can't have the sort of relationships you want if you don't let someone in," she countered.
What I don't like admitting, to myself or anyone else, is I've grown very used to being this way. After all, this is work I started when I wasn't even 10-years-old, building layer upon layer of defenses until I have what's around me now, and the few times I've dared step out from behind them resulted in me getting completely and utterly crushed.
So what makes you think I'd be willing to step out from behind them now?
It may be lonely at the center of all these walls and traps, but I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I'm safe here.
You can't break my heart if I don't give you a clear shot at it.
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