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You Can Be Guarded and Still Find Love

  • Writer: Kim
    Kim
  • Mar 24
  • 4 min read

There's something no one tells you about being emotionally guarded: It doesn't always look like fear. Sometimes, it looks like self-sufficiency. Like independence. Like having your life "together" and convincing yourself you're fine without love.


But beneath that—quietly, sometimes even unconsciously—there's often a longing. A hope. And if you're reading this, I'm willing to bet that part of you still wants to believe in the kind of love that sees you, hears you, and meets you where you are.


You're not wrong for being guarded. You're not broken. And you are not too late.


Here's what I've come to know, not just through my own experience, but in walking beside others who are navigating this same path…


When My Walls Became My Teachers


There was a time I wasn't sure I could trust myself to choose love again.


It wasn't that I didn't want it. I did. But something in me had shut down. Not in bitterness, but in protection. I had made choices in the past that left me questioning whether I could trust my own heart—and when that happens, you don't just stop trusting others... you stop trusting yourself.


For a while, I was emotionally guarded. And while that may have slowed down the process of finding love, I now see it as a gift.


That guardedness gave me time. Time to notice what made me hesitate. Time to sit with my fears and trace them back to their roots. Time to look at the patterns and beliefs that quietly shaped my decisions—and gently unravel them.


Eventually, I made a conscious decision to do the inner work (that we now guide others through in our coaching programs).


I stopped trying to rush past the discomfort and started listening to it. And what I learned surprised me:


My walls weren't barriers. They were teachers.


They showed me where I still needed healing. They helped me become discerning, wise, and deeply intentional. They gave me the strength to stop settling for "good enough" and to hold space for the kind of love I had always dreamed of.


And one day, I realized: The person who would reach me wouldn't be the one trying to climb over my walls.


They would be the one who could stand tall enough to see over them.


Not tall in stature—but tall in character. Rooted in integrity, presence, kindness, and truth. They would have to embody the foundational pieces that make love whole for me. Not just a few qualities that felt desirable—but the kind of alignment that felt undeniable.


That's what happened. And that's why I now believe, with every part of me, that:


 You don't have to be fully healed to be fully loved.


 You don't have to tear down your walls—you just have to understand what they're teaching you.


 Love can still find you, even if you're guarded. Especially if you're guarded with wisdom.


What If You Don't Even Know You Have Walls?


The thing about emotional walls is—they're not always easy to recognize.


They don't always show up as mistrust or fear. Sometimes, they sound like this:


"I'm actually better off alone.”


"Life is easier without the complication of love.”


"I've tried everything—nothing works.”


"I'm fine. I don't need anyone.”


Or even: "If it's meant to happen, it'll happen.”


And while some of these thoughts may have truth to them in moments, they can also be signals—clues that a part of you is still afraid. A part of you is still guarding your heart. And sometimes, those beliefs are the very walls that keep love at a distance.


Here's the thing: if you're reading this, I don't believe you're fully settled in those beliefs.


Something in you still wants to believe. Something in you knows there's more. And that knowing? That's your soul remembering what it came here for.


There are many ways our emotional walls take shape. They can look like independence. They can sound like strength. They can even wear the disguise of logic or spiritual surrender.


But under those layers—if we're really honest—there's often something tender. Something that still questions if we're worthy of great love. If we'll be chosen. If it's even safe to want it again.


That's the work. Not "work" in the heavy, exhausting way the world often frames it. But sacred work. The work of gently teaching yourself—and the universe—what you now know you're worthy of receiving.


It's the moment you decide:


"I'm no longer shrinking my heart to fit a smaller version of love.”


"I'm ready to be seen—and loved—for all that I am.”


"I am becoming the version of me that love has been waiting for.”


You don't have to tear down your walls. You just have to understand what they’re teaching you.


And when you do… everything starts to change.


A Loving Reminder


If you've built walls around your heart, you probably had a good reason.


What if the right person isn't trying to break through your walls—

but simply waiting for the day you feel safe enough to open the door?


You don't have to swing the door wide open. You don't have to be fearless. You just have to be willing.


Love doesn't need you to be perfect. It just needs the real you—the one who still believes it's possible.


And it is.


Ready to Let Love In—Even Just a Little?


If something in you is stirring… If this spoke to a part of you that's been quietly hoping love is still possible… Know that it is.


And you don't have to figure it all out on your own.


Our coaching is designed for people just like you—those who are emotionally aware, maybe a little guarded, but ready to shift the energy they're putting out and open to the kind of love that's built to last.


We help you do the deep, transformative inner work that can create big shifts—from the way you see yourself, to the way love shows up in your life.


 You're not too late.


 You're not too complicated.


 You're not too guarded.


 You're ready.



Let's walk this next chapter together.



Written by Kim Bajorek

Manifestationship®️ Coach

Helping people create authentic, fulfilling relationships through conscious awareness and intentional growth

 
 
 

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© 2025 Kim Bajorek and Roger Hardnock

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