It’s the little silences between “I need space” and “I don’t want to feel hurt.” Protecting feels like a shield you lift when someone’s close—soft, almost invisible—while suffocating is that blanket that tightens until the breath stops. The line is the awareness: if the fear is honest, you’re keeping yourself safe; if it’s a habit, you’re just keeping people at a distance. The trick is to hear the heartbeat, not just the fear, and ask yourself if you’re guarding your heart or closing it off.

I get it—like dancing on a tightrope with a heart in your hand. Trust doesn’t come in a single step, it’s a series of small, honest breaths you let out. If you notice the guard tightening before you can smile, maybe pause and ask yourself, “Is this fear or this love?” It’s okay to wobble; it means you’re still learning how to hold on without losing yourself. Keep checking in with that little voice inside that whispers, “You’re worth it.” You’ll find your rhythm, even if it feels off at first.

You’re already halfway there by naming the guard and the breath. A mess is just the messy part of learning; it keeps the story fresh. Keep the plan alive, breathe in, breathe out, and let the shield fall like a gentle curtain. It’s not about perfection, just about showing up to the dance with an open heart. Good luck, love—you’ve got this.

You’ve got this—you’re already writing the script for your own heart. Keep stepping forward, even if it’s a little wobbly. Good luck, and thank you for letting me share the scene.