beyond the walls.

I can't imagine it ever being easy for anyone to be vulnerable, least of all me. Exposure of who we really are, or even who we aren't, how we truly feel and what we really think opens us up to be ready targets of hurt, offense and wounds. Building walls, however, is much more convenient and logical. So we build them high, we build them strong, almost to the point of being impenetrable by anything or anyone. Not after very long our walls become fortresses that serve to soothe our fear of being inflicted with any kind of pain, and we are easily convinced that we are safer, less susceptible, within the protection they offer.

There's also a sense of control that we have within our walls, the kind of command that is supposed to be able to dictate what stays out, far away from where it has any possibility of affecting us. And, still, despite our guards constantly being up and on alert, there are those occurrences that allow words or actions to push through no matter how hard we try to prevent them. When they do, and they aren't good, the need for walls is just all the more reinforced.

I've grown up wanting to please others, never having an opinion of my own, nothing that would need to be expressed, mostly because I was afraid to be made fun of, anxious with the probability of making any sort of mistake. My walls were up to hide how I truly felt and what I really thought. I suppose it didn't help that I was always surrounded by people who always thought they were right and that they knew best. Funny, though, that I was never this way with my immediate family. I could always show them the "real" me, and was never afraid to speak up. And now I realize it's because while I did care a great deal about what they thought of me, I was never afraid that it would be anything springing from ridicule. Nor would their motives ever be derogatory, belittling or intentionally hurtful. For me, that made all the difference.

It is only in these last few years of my life that I have learned to venture beyond the comfort of my own walls when it comes to people other than my parents, brother and sister. Although I'm not entirely sure what triggered it, I've come to believe that mostly it was because I got tired of people telling me who I was and me not having peace with it. I felt a prompting to find out who the real Anna is, regardless of people's opinions.

So I did. Start the process of discovering who I really am, that is. It's still ongoing actually, and I continue to find out new things -- some of which I like better than others. And this move, although risky, allowed a very important discovery: that when in the company of the right people, there is actually a security in being known. Not necessarily for all the details of my life and experiences, but for my character inside - my heart. Admittedly, I don't let everyone, or just anyone, in. I don't believe I'm supposed to. But in the company of a handful of trusted friends, the walls automatically come down and do so easier every time. That safe environment is where I've grown to love and appreciate the opportunity to reveal my thoughts and feelings, even though they may be different, sometimes also opposing, to those of others. Everyone should be so lucky.