Sometimes, in the act of caring, there is hurt.
A simple, mundane moment: offering food, helping, guiding—an act of nurture. And suddenly, pain.
The hand that feeds gets bitten.
It’s not malice. It’s instinct. A limit being tested. An unspoken “no.” A declaration of autonomy.
And it’s jarring. The expectation is gratitude, trust, smooth giving. Instead, there is pain, surprise, perhaps anger.
What Might This Mean?
There’s a message buried in such an ordinary wound:
Care is not one-sided.
Even love can hurt.
Boundaries are necessary, even with those we serve.
The one who gives must notice when they overstep. The one who receives may resist, even inarticulately.
The pain can become a teacher.
Beyond the Physical Pain
Reactions often overflow. Words spill out: “It hurts. It still hurts.”
Not only about the moment itself, but about cumulative exhaustion. The weight of caregiving. The demand to stay calm, patient, unfailingly gentle.
Pain disrupts that image. It forces truth.
It says: “I’m human. I have limits. I hurt too.”
The Lesson Offered
Such moments are invitations to reflect:
Where am I giving too much?
Where am I ignoring my own needs?
Where do I need clearer boundaries?
They are also opportunities to acknowledge that hurt is part of real connection. Not to idealize care, but to understand its complexities.
A Message for Anyone Who Feels This
If caring has ever hurt you—let that pain speak.
It doesn’t mean the love was wrong. It means the relationship is alive, changing, asking for honesty.
Boundaries are not barriers to love. They make love sustainable.
Your truthfully,
A
[poco a poco]. 
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