Putting Down What Was Never Mine

There is something I have been sitting with lately.

Projection. Not as a theory from a psychology book. Not as a label I want to put on anyone. Just as something I experienced in real life, in a very human way.

Projection, as I understand it now, is when someone cannot fully face what they are feeling inside, so without realizing it, they place it onto you. Their fear slowly becomes your accusation. Their doubt turns into your responsibility. Their old wound starts speaking through a new situation that may have nothing to do with the past at all.

It rarely arrives loudly. It does not always look like anger. Sometimes it sounds like a question. Sometimes it feels like concern. But underneath, there is tension. A story quietly forming that does not quite match reality.

Recently, I found myself inside a situation like that. A very ordinary moment was interpreted in a way that surprised me. Something simple became complicated. Something neutral became suspicious. And suddenly I felt like I was being placed inside a narrative that was never mine to begin with.

What struck me was not the misunderstanding itself. It was how quickly I felt the urge to defend. I could feel my body wanting to explain more than necessary. To prove. To reassure. To soften my truth so someone else could feel safe.

That is the quiet impact of projection. It gently pushes you into a position where you start carrying emotions that did not originate from you. You begin to feel responsible for someone else’s discomfort.

Why do people project?

I do not believe it is because people are bad. I think it is because facing our own fear is uncomfortable. Admitting insecurity requires vulnerability. And vulnerability feels risky. It is easier to look outward and create a reason than to sit inward and face the ache.

If someone has been hurt before, their mind becomes protective. It scans for signs of danger. Even when there is none. The past whispers into the present. And without noticing, they respond to a memory instead of the moment.

Most projection is not malicious. It is unhealed pain trying to protect itself.

But when you are the one receiving it, especially if you are still healing parts of yourself, it can cut deeper than you expect.

Even though I knew my truth, it still hurt. Not because I believed the story, but because I saw how quickly connection can shift when fear enters the room. It reminded me how much I have opened my heart. How much I have invested emotionally. And how fragile trust can feel when doubt appears.

That moment did not push me into fighting. It pushed me inward.

Instead of trying to correct everything externally, I chose to work on myself internally. I began doing energy healing. Reiki. Hypnotherapy. Not because I thought something was wrong with me, but because I wanted to understand why it hurt so much. I wanted to separate what was mine from what was not. I wanted to clear my energy instead of carrying confusion.

And in that process, I realized something painful.

I am more hurt than I allowed myself to admit.

Not only from this situation, but from many layers before it. In recent years, I have lost a lot. Truly a lot. Relationships I believed in. Futures I imagined. Versions of myself that existed in certain chapters. When you go through multiple endings, even if you stand strong on the outside, your heart still absorbs the impact.

Energy healing did not magically erase the pain. It slowed me down enough to feel honestly. During reiki sessions, I could feel tension leaving my body in ways I could not explain logically. Hypnotherapy opened quiet doors in my subconscious, showing me fears I thought I had already resolved.

There were tears. There were moments of unexpected clarity. There were realizations that made me sit in silence afterward because they felt too real to ignore.

But within that discomfort, I also felt something gentle returning ; Space, breath, a sense of peace that was not dramatic, just steady.

Projection may have triggered the wound, but healing is my responsibility. I cannot control how others process their fear. I cannot control the stories people create in their minds. But I can control how deeply I allow those stories to penetrate my self worth.

Through this process, I understood something important. Yes, I have lost a lot. I have let go of many things. I have walked away from illusions. I have accepted endings I did not ask for.

But I am also gaining something powerful.

Clarity about who I am.

Peace that does not depend on external validation.

Stronger boundaries between what belongs to me and what does not.

And most importantly, I am coming back to myself.

Back to valuing my worth without needing someone else to confirm it. Back to trusting my reality even when someone else questions it. Back to understanding that if someone doubts me, I do not have to doubt myself in response.

There is grief in growth. There is loss in transformation. But there is also gain.

Sometimes projection becomes the catalyst. Not because it breaks you, but because it forces you to look deeper. It makes you clean your emotional house. It invites you to choose yourself again.

I do not see this experience as a battle between right and wrong. I see it as a mirror. A reminder that everyone carries wounds. Some are visible. Some are hidden. And if I want peace in my life, I must protect it from within.

Not everything placed on you is yours to carry. And sometimes, when you gently put it down, you realize how much lighter you are capable of feeling.

From my heart to yours,

~CM~