The lies told in the name of protection are rarely loud. They’re soft, almost tender, meant to shield, not to wound.

For me, they’ve sounded like:

“I’m okay.” when I was anything but.

“It doesn’t matter.” when it actually mattered more than I could say.

 “I don’t need help.” when I was just scared to be a burden.

“I don’t care that much.” when caring that much felt dangerous.

These lies aren’t about deceit… they’re about fear, fear of being too much, or not enough, or of watching someone walk away once they’ve seen the raw parts.

Protection, sometimes, looks a lot like pretending.