I don’t know when it clicked that I needed to protect myself,
but it did.
I’ve always handed my heart away without an extensive screening process—given it over with full eyes and a clear heart (you can lose).
I’ve let my heart speak for me and followed it blindly.
But time and time again, I gave the most precious thing to the wrong person.
Not everyone deserves your heart—most don’t.
This doesn’t always have to be romantic; friendships, colleagues, whatever it might be.
I used to view guarding your heart as cynical and a sad way to live.
The truth is, it’s not.
It’s powerful. I protect my peace. I am worth protecting.
Protection, by definition, is the act of keeping someone or something safe from harm, injury, damage, or danger.
I was giving myself away on a silver platter, subjecting my heart to harm, injury, damage, and danger over and over.
When is enough, enough?
I reached my fill of self-inflicted pain and decided it was, in fact, enough.
So nowadays, I do things differently.
I keep my silver platters in my kitchen.
I keep my heart in my chest.
And I protect myself before anything else.