Removing the Last Line of Defense
June 06, 2025
When you grow up protecting yourself from the people who were meant to protect you, trust doesn’t come easy. But healing invites you to lower the guard — slowly, honestly.
There’s a part of me that still scans for danger — even when I’m safe.
Especially when someone shows me care.
And lately, I’ve started to see it:
That part isn’t protecting me anymore — it’s protecting the past.
It’s guarding the child I once was from a world that failed him.
And maybe… it’s time to let that last line of defense down.
In therapy, I realized how often I project my past onto people who don’t deserve it.
Like my tutors at college — two women who are compassionate, warm, and likely have my best interests at heart.
But my nervous system doesn’t always see them.
It sees her.
It sees the coldness, the disapproval, the subtle punishments for being vulnerable.
It’s hard to separate them — to look through clean glass when I’ve spent years behind broken lenses.
But I’m trying.
And in that effort, I can feel the last wall shaking.
The wall that says:
“Even if someone is kind, don’t really trust them. Don’t let them all the way in. Don’t be fooled.”
That voice used to keep me safe.
Now, it keeps me alone.
Removing that last line of defense doesn’t mean trusting blindly.
It means trusting with discernment.
It means realizing that some people are different.
That some people mean well — and deserve to be trusted until proven otherwise, not the other way around.
This shift won’t happen overnight.
But every time I pause before assuming threat,
every time I breathe instead of building armor,
every time I soften…
…I’m telling my body a new story.
And maybe this time, I don’t need defending.