There’s a kind of pain that doesn’t just hurt — it rebuilds you. Quietly. Brick by brick.
Every lie. Every manipulation. Every moment I made excuses for behavior that screamed the truth.
I used to hate my walls. I thought they made me “cold” or “closed off.” But now I see: They were never cages — they were boundaries. They were survival. They were me learning to protect what I used to hand over too easily.
If my heart has walls now, it’s because it’s been broken into too many times by people who left the door wide open when they walked away.
So no — I’m not sorry if I don’t let you in right away. I’m not sorry if I double-check the lock. I’m not sorry if my softness lives behind steel.
Because every brick was earned. And this fortress? It’s mine. Built from the betrayal you thought would destroy me.
Not today. Not anymore.
—
Anyone else feel this in their bones? What was your turning point — the moment you realized your walls weren’t weakness, but wisdom?
Let’s talk. Let’s heal loud.
✷ diss.the.toxic ✷
