A Knight, an Armor... and a Feather!

A few weeks ago, right before the new school year started, I picked up my six-year-old niece and seven-year-old nephew from summer camp. Once we got home, the classic scenario played out: my nephew flew straight to Netflix, while my niece dove into my big arts-and-crafts drawer. She emerged with drawing paper, markers, scissors, crepe paper, and little feathers. I have no idea where she always gets her inspiration, but as usual, she didn’t have to think twice about what to make and enthusiastically started working on her drawing...

She started by drawing a princess, and then added a knight. As she sketched, she narrated what she was doing out loud. When she got to the knight, she said, 'He needs armor, too, to protect himself.' Man, did that hit home! 'To protect himself'...

You can think of me as a naive fool, but I think up until now, I’ve mostly lived with the idea that if I don’t do anything wrong, I don’t need any protection against others. By that, I don’t mean that I’m perfect or never make mistakes, because I do, but rather that I am a good person who always tries to follow the will of her Higher Power. And I thought that if I acted with good intentions, only good things would come my way. Or, as the saying goes: 'Do good, and good will come to you.'
Unfortunately, that turns out not to be the case—quite the opposite, actually. It is precisely the good people who get taken advantage of, who are often treated like doormats, and who people assume (often correctly, admittedly!) won't stand up for themselves anyway. But my niece knew: the knight, he needs protection from outside influences. And because she said it and drew it, I realized that I, too, need to protect myself from others and their influence on me.

But how do I protect myself? Well, that’s a question I’m actually still figuring out. Part of the answer is already in my pocket, found in the things I’ve been doing for years: constantly trying to ground myself in God’s presence, and 'locking in' my own individual, good life. I do this by taking good care of myself, eating healthy, making my apartment cozy (because that truly makes a difference!), exercising, being as creative as possible, praying and meditating, but also by working on my recovery in therapy and looking at—and tackling—dysfunctional behavioral patterns. These are all things that make me stronger, allowing my roots to grow deeper so I can better weather the storms of life.

How to effectively keep those outside influences out (just like a suit of armor)—that’s something I haven't completely figured out yet. Part of the answer lies in what I consciously choose to let in, in what I 'consume' from the world, because I notice that it makes a massive difference. A simple example: I feel completely different after listening to heavy metal for an hour versus listening to dreamy, ambient music; or reading two chapters of a thriller versus a lighthearted romance novel; or watching thirty minutes of the negative evening news versus watching TikTak (TikTak is a Flemish TV show for babies and toddlers that was very popular in the '90s, back when I was still a toddler myself). What we let in truly does something to us.
I consciously choose to block out everything that has a negative impact on me and is within my control. It gets to stay outside; my armor deflects it. No news, no newspapers, no radio, no songs with vulgar, dirty, or violent lyrics, no video games. Instead, I choose healing guided meditations, videos about creative hobbies like drawing or embroidery, nourishing pins on Pinterest, phone calls with good friends, walks in nature, and so on.

But what about influences beyond my control? The world isn't always a beautiful place, and there is a lot of malice to be found in people's hearts. People get angry quickly, are often quick-tempered, and don't hesitate to manipulate others to get what they want (with gentler souls often bearing the brunt of it, of course)... What do I do when those influences creep in? First of all, I feel my emotions. I don't deny them anymore, which certainly used to be different. Today, it's okay for it to hurt, and it's okay to feel afraid—that is an inherent part of life. I don’t have to deny it. But do I set up camp in those emotions, or what do I do with them?

For me, the answer lies in 'casting them out' and surrendering them in prayer. By making a conscious choice not to get caught up in those thoughts or feelings, and by choosing not to analyze the problem or conflict to death just to try and gain control over it. That isn't always easy to do, because the human brain wants to analyze to avoid future danger. And that is exactly why I need the help of a Power greater than myself, whom I call God. The prayer, "Take my anger/fear/resentment away from me, I don't want it anymore, I give it to You," always works wonders for me. Sometimes I have to pray it twenty times a day, but I truly feel the effect. Those heavy, negative emotions fade, and they are replaced by peace and serenity.

Something else that caught my attention about my niece's drawing—and especially the unprompted commentary that came with it—was that the knight’s armor isn't meant to protect the princess, but only himself. Not an insignificant detail. How often do I try to take care of someone else without looking at my own needs? How often do I think that others won't be able to handle the pain, and that I therefore must be good, gentle, and kind to everyone just so they definitely won't feel hurt by me? Often, I guarantee you.

But is it really my job to protect others? Isn't that actually their own responsibility? Wouldn't it be better to let them pick up their own armor? Of course, but that's easier said than done. Codependency is no stranger to me either, and it's definitely an area where an incredible amount of growth is still possible in my life. Progress, not perfection, right?

After my little princess (not the one in the drawing, of course, but the one who created this masterpiece) had sufficiently protected her knight by giving him armor and a helmet, she decided that a sword was also a must. While I thought she would grab a gray marker from the box and draw a classic sword, she surprised me by using a little feather as a sword. Admit it, choosing a feather was a truly gentle and genius move on her part, wasn't it?

Most knights (read: people) would defend themselves against attacks by fighting back. "You hurt me, so I’ll hurt you too," is the idea. Hurt people hurt people. But won't that just lead to an endless jousting match of accusations, arguments, and fights? Why not look at the other person's aggressive behavior, know the truth about the situation in your own heart, and then choose to walk away from it instead of having the last word? Why keep ping-ponging back and forth forever in arguments and pain?

Mind you, I’m not saying we should be a doormat. Hell no, been there, done that! For a long time, I was that soft, submissive sheep that let people get away with anything (and to be honest, I still am, though there has been some progress). Most of the time, I only see the goodness in people and close my eyes to their actual behavior, which is something that tends to get in my way. Then I think, "Oh come on, they can't help it that they had a difficult childhood/dysfunctional parents/trauma/..., they don't mean any harm." And while all of that may be true, what matters isn't so much their intention, but rather the effect it has on me. And if that effect isn't good—if it damages me emotionally and spiritually—then it is my job to draw a line, to say "stop."

That doesn't have to come with anger and hatred, and bridges don't necessarily need to be burned, but I am allowed to pull out my fluffy sword and, in all love and gentleness, make it very clear that the other person's behavior is unacceptable to me. That has nothing to do with hatred, but everything to do with self-respect and self-love. And most of the time, it's actually good for the other person too, even if it doesn't seem that way at first glance. Continuing to enable people in their behavior—allowing it out of so-called love, which is actually just fear of confrontation or change—is good for no one in the long run. Not for the armored knight with the fluffy sword, nor for the attacking dragon (or any other kind of enemy, of course!) itself. That is why the sword keeps others at an appropriate distance and is therefore necessary, but it can also be done in a polite and gentle way, without any accompanying bloodshed.

(Continue reading below the pin)

From my niece, I am learning to be more conscious about putting on my armor to protect myself from negative outside influences, to let the princess protect herself (it makes her stronger!), but also to defend myself with gentleness. Not through bloody jousts, but by using gentle yet clear language. Setting boundaries is still fairly new to me, which makes it feel difficult and frightening, but I also notice that it is spiritually right and liberating. Relationships that are meant to be get better because of it, while those that aren't seem to bleed out—even with a fluffy sword! Yet, I experience that exactly as it's supposed to be, and I am at peace with it.

When my niece made this drawing—along with the comment that "the knight needs to protect himself" and then giving him a feather for a sword—I knew instantly: this is going to be a blog post! I asked her if she wanted to take a picture of her drawing with my phone, and if it was okay for me to put it on my website later (the concept of a "blog" is still a bit too complicated for a six-year-old, but she knows websites well enough!). The little rascal beamed with pride, and the very first thing she told her mom afterward was that Tata was going to use her drawing for her website! So incredibly cute! Because of that, I have a small favor to ask. If you've read this and her drawing resonates with you, would you be willing to leave a little message for her below (which I will, of course, translate for her)? I know for sure it would make her super happy! Thank you so much in advance!