I was like a ripe old artichoke, with outer leaves showing the effects of age and experience — defense systems and protective devices intact. Yet, when pierced to the core with words and actions, the wound was painful — and invisible. In order to heal, I needed to peel away the leaves around the wound, tend to the damage, and learn about myself from the experience.
As I stripped off each layer, my emotions continued to swirl, from shock and anger to a deep sadness. I knew I had transgressed her boundaries, and must take full responsibility for it — no excuses, no justification — just accept my flaw.
That required identifying and owning the flaw in myself, and answering honestly the hardest question: When I could have remained out of it, said and done nothing, why did I step in? What characteristic in me prompted my behavior?
To find the answer, I had to dig deep.
In response to The Daily Post’s weekly photo challenge: “Boundaries.”