Part I - A Promise

“When she was a child, she said it too: she would never abuse her children.”

My grandmother when I was seven

Part II - Object

A life lived at a distance, from others, from myself, from meaning, from my own emotions.

Survival mode. Chasing someone else’s happiness.

Part III - Subject

Power is often misread because people expect it to be loud. An order. Pressure. Open force. In reality, it is usually quiet. It works through approval and rejection, through subtle rules, through expectations that are never spoken, and through the constant feeling of having to justify yourself. Anyone who is always expected to explain, defend, or prove themselves is not moving through a neutral space, even if it looks that way from the outside.

In that sense, “object” is not a trait. It is a position. A person becomes an object when they live inside a structure that makes reaction feel mandatory. Not through obvious control, but through shame, recognition, silence, and social hierarchies. This kind of power is especially stable because it disguises itself as normal. It is strongest when it is not recognized as a structure at all, but only as individual moments, a tone of voice, a misunderstanding, a personal problem.

The turning point begins where the mechanism becomes visible. Not as drama, but as clarity. Once a pattern is seen as a pattern, it loses its spell. What used to feel like “that’s just how it is” becomes negotiable. And boundaries no longer have to be fought for emotionally. Boundaries are a decision that creates order. They redefine access, influence, and responsibility, not in order to win, but to finally act instead of only reacting.