Contemplation: On Protecting People

I journal at my desk most mornings. Over the week leading up to my birthday, I noticed I kept circling the same heavy thing, page after page, and getting nowhere. It sat as a tightness in my chest that would not leave. On my birthday, I decided to say it out loud.

Before the conversation, I had a script rehearsed. When I began, some of it came out as I meant, and the rest arrived on its own. Reflecting after, why had I been so sure it would be too much to say?

I care for this person. Because I care, I did not want to land something heavy in their lap before I had made sense of it myself. That is a good reason, and it is true.

But by holding back, I had decided they could not handle it. And that is convenient for me. If I never say the thing, I stay safe. What I called consideration was partly protection for myself.

I am not sure where this behavior comes from. It is not the first time I have done it. I was sure it would be too much before they had said anything at all, which makes me think it started long before them.

Next time you catch yourself holding something back to protect someone, pause and ask: do you actually know they can’t handle it, or have you assumed it?

I called it protecting them. It was mostly protecting me.

I curate spaces and experiences, through sound, breath and intuition.

This is the work I do with people, one to one: sitting with what lives beneath the story. If that speaks to you, sessions are open here.