A reflection on projection, ownership, and the quiet power of accountability
There was a time in my life when I lived with roommates—messy kitchens, shared bills, late-night talks, and the kind of closeness that makes strangers feel like family. One of them, in particular, felt like a little brother to me. We were tight. Protective. Loyal. Until we weren’t.
We got into an argument one day—one of those emotionally charged, layered ones that had been simmering under the surface for a while. I don’t remember the details, but I remember the moment everything shifted. He looked at me, calm and unflinching, and said:
“You’re not mad because I used you. You’re mad because you allowed yourself to be used by me.”
It hit me like a freight train. Not because it was cruel, but because it was true.
The Mirror We Avoid
Anger is a seductive emotion. It gives us something to grip when we feel powerless. It lets us point fingers, build walls, and justify our pain. But sometimes—often, actually—anger is a mirror. And what we see reflected back isn’t the person who hurt us, but the part of ourselves we haven’t made peace with.
I wasn’t just mad at him. I was mad at myself for ignoring the red flags. For saying yes when I meant no. For giving more than I had, hoping it would earn love, loyalty, or validation. I was mad that I betrayed my own boundaries in the name of closeness.
But it was easier to project that onto him. To make him the villain in a story where I was the wounded hero.
Projection: The Art of Misplaced Blame
Projection is a psychological defense mechanism where we attribute our own unwanted feelings or traits to someone else. It’s the internal pain we externalize. The shame we disguise as judgment. The fear we dress up as criticism.
When we say, “They’re so selfish,” maybe we’re really saying, “I feel depleted and I don’t know how to ask for what I need.” When we say, “They betrayed me,” maybe we’re really saying, “I betrayed myself by staying silent when I should’ve spoken.”
It’s not about excusing harmful behavior. It’s about recognizing where our reactions are rooted. Because healing doesn’t come from assigning blame—it comes from reclaiming agency.
The Quiet Power of Ownership
Taking ownership isn’t about self-blame. It’s about self-awareness. It’s the moment we stop outsourcing our emotional responsibility and start asking deeper questions:
What boundary did I ignore?
What need did I suppress?
What pattern am I repeating?
When I sat with that moment—his words echoing in my mind—I realized I had been waiting for someone else to honor my worth while I kept abandoning it myself. That wasn’t his job. It was mine.
Forgiveness Begins With Truth
I eventually forgave him. But more importantly, I forgave myself. For not knowing better. For learning the hard way. For growing through discomfort.
That moment taught me something I carry into every relationship, every decision, every act of self-care: If I don’t honor my boundaries, someone else will cross them. If I don’t speak my truth, someone else will write my story. If I don’t take ownership, my anger will keep looking for a target.
