I always believed I was a humble and kind person. While growing up, I stayed busy with my own life, moving at its natural pace. My childhood felt largely fine, with only small bumps along the way. I never paid much attention to the jokes made by people I knew—even when they stung. It took me years to realise that some of those jokes were not harmless; they were quiet tests of limits I didn’t yet know I was allowed to have.

As I grew older, I noticed a pattern. My naivety was often mistaken for availability. People pushed a little further each time, and when I finally felt uncomfortable, I responded with silence. I didn’t speak up—not because I didn’t understand what was happening, but because I didn’t want conflict. That silence was convenient for others. It allowed them to overpower the moment while I withdrew.

Innocence, I’ve learned, is often confused with ignorance. A kind person usually understands mistreatment but chooses restraint, hoping the situation won’t escalate. Unfortunately, that restraint is often read as weakness. I wish I had understood this earlier. I wouldn’t have felt guilty for not standing still while someone crossed a line.

These experiences taught me something simple but difficult: boundaries are not optional. They matter everywhere—with friends, partners, and even at work. That uneasy feeling in your body is often the first signal that a boundary has been crossed.

You can’t always walk away from people. Sometimes the only protection you have is clarity. I’m learning that saying “no” is not unkind. It’s a way of staying present without disappearing from myself.

If this resonated, pause and notice where you’ve been silent longer than you should have.

© 2025 Lavender Lines — All poetry and writings are original.