(*This is script of the above audio journal available on YouTube)
Today, I want to dive into a behaviour that, for many of us, can be one of the biggest obstacles to growth—defensiveness. Those moments when we put up walls, believing they’re protecting us. And sometimes, they do. But often, these walls end up pushing away the very people who genuinely want to support us. As a coach, I’ve encountered defensiveness in various forms, and I get it—it’s hard to let down our guard, especially when we’ve been hurt. It’s frustrating, though, when I see someone’s potential and also see how these walls are keeping them from it.
Let’s take an example-we’ll call him ‘Bob’. Bob genuinely wanted to heal and connect, but every time I encouraged him to reflect on his actions, his defences shot up. Responses like, ‘Why are you questioning me?’ or ‘Don’t you remember what I told you?’ became the norm. Each question seemed to hit an invisible nerve, and I could feel the resistance. As a coach, I’m here to help people grow, but when defensiveness is that strong, it creates a barrier not just for them but for me as well. And that’s the thing about defensiveness—it limits what I can do to help, and more importantly, it limits what we can do for ourselves.
I understand this from personal experience. There was a time in my life when I thought my walls were keeping me safe. Like many people, I’d been hurt by those I trusted, and the pain led me to put up barriers I thought would protect me from being vulnerable again. One of my earliest experiences was with someone I thought I could trust—someone I called my boyfriend. I was young, only 15, and he kept pushing for things I wasn’t comfortable with. I said ‘no’ so many times, but he ignored it, and it left a scar. Later, when someone who had a crush on me spiked my drink, it reopened all the wounds I’d been trying to bury.
But it wasn’t just these traumatic experiences that led me to be defensive; it was also the emotional void I grew up with. My parents weren’t physically or emotionally present, and as I got older, I started seeking the attention I’d been deprived of from boys. I had an uncontrollable relationship with attention. If someone openly gave me attention or objectified me, I felt like they somehow deserved my trust and my heart. There were no boundaries, just a naive belief that other people’s intentions were as innocent as my own.
This made me an easy target, and I put myself in reckless situations, sometimes without even realising it. And while this doesn’t justify the actions of those who took advantage, it was essential for me to own my part. I had to look at why I allowed certain people in so easily and why I was drawn to certain dynamics. Owning my choices wasn’t about taking on blame—it was about recognising patterns and understanding my need for attention as a response to childhood wounds. That awareness let me set boundaries that were more reasonable and not based on fear, boundaries that actually served me.
This defensiveness doesn’t just impact professional relationships—it spills over into our personal lives, too. For those of you with a defensive family member or friend, you might know what I’m talking about. You come in with good intentions, trying to support or help them see another perspective, only to be met with resistance. You might start feeling like no matter how much you care, you’re only seen as the enemy. Over time, this pattern can be draining and even disheartening, leaving you feeling defeated. And this is especially true if that person isn’t open to seeing the impact their actions have on you.
Looking back on my own journey, I understand this more than ever. My own experiences had created deep pain and mistrust, which led me to build walls around myself. I thought these walls were protecting me, but in reality, they were isolating me. Without fully understanding the roots of my defensiveness, I ended up creating barriers that weren’t truly constructive or relevant to what I actually needed to feel safe. Because without understanding the real source of our defensiveness, it’s almost impossible to create the kind of protections—or boundaries—that truly serve us.
So, the walls I built didn’t really protect me from the situations I wanted to avoid. They weren’t stopping what I didn’t want from happening; instead, they were keeping me from what I genuinely wanted—connection, trust, and a sense of security. This was a hard lesson to learn, but it taught me that real boundaries aren’t just about keeping things out; they’re about allowing in what truly aligns with who we are and what we value.
When we’re defensive, it’s often because we’re acting from past wounds—assuming that new people are just like those who hurt us before. But what happens is that we end up treating these new relationships with the same mistrust. We create situations where others feel they have to prove themselves constantly, even when their intentions are genuine. Eventually, people reach a point where they may choose to walk away, feeling like they’re only adding to someone’s defensiveness rather than helping them grow. In Bob’s case, he wanted connection and support, but his defensiveness created a distance he couldn’t see.
Growth requires us to own our behaviour, even when it’s uncomfortable. It’s not enough to want love, trust, and vulnerability; we have to be willing to create space for those things by recognising when our own actions are blocking them. This means looking inward and asking, ‘Am I putting up walls where I should be letting people in?’ or ‘Am I letting my past dictate how I respond in the present?’ For people like Bob, or anyone who finds themselves pushing others away, this self-reflection is crucial. Defensive behaviour may feel safe, but in reality, it’s a prison that keeps us from experiencing true closeness and growth.
If you’re on the other side of this, maybe with a defensive family member or friend, I know it can feel defeating. You want to be there, you want to help, but it feels like you’re met with suspicion instead of appreciation. The truth is, no one can force someone else to grow. We can only create a safe space for them and encourage them to take that first step. But we have to recognise our own boundaries, too. If their defensiveness continues to hurt us, it’s okay to protect our energy and step back. Caring for someone doesn’t mean sacrificing our own well-being to their walls.
Is defensiveness always bad? No. It can protect us, and sometimes it’s necessary. But it’s important to recognise the difference between protection and isolation. If our defensiveness is causing the very disconnection we fear, then it’s time to take a look at what we’re actually defending against. When people like Bob question every action, they’re projecting their past onto others. But while their reasoning may be valid, it doesn’t mean the other person is responsible for those walls.
As I reflect on my journey, I realise that the most powerful boundary I set was with myself. I decided to get clear about the kind of people I want in my life and, more importantly, how I want to show up to attract those kinds of relationships. Instead of letting old wounds or desperation lead my choices, I took ownership of my behaviour and redefined what I wanted. I chose to focus on manifesting relationships based on mutual respect, understanding, and trust.
It was a shift from feeling like a victim of circumstances to taking control of what I allow in my life. I learned to stop repeating the cycles that left me feeling hurt and unfulfilled by consciously aligning my actions with what I truly want, rather than with what I feared. With each step, I built a new confidence in myself—knowing I could trust my boundaries to guide me and protect me. I also came to understand that choosing these new paths often means facing discomfort. But I realised that discomfort doesn’t mean danger—it simply means stepping into the unfamiliar, which is where growth happens.
Finally, I want to emphasise that my experience and the lessons I’ve taken from it are strictly relevant to my own life and self-reflection. They are not meant to speak for anyone else’s experiences or diminish the complexity of what others have been through. Growth is a deeply personal journey, and each person’s path is their own. So if defensiveness has been a barrier for you, I’d encourage you to think about the boundaries you want—not just to keep others out, but to invite the right people in. True growth isn’t about building higher walls; it’s about building clearer paths toward the connections we desire. When we act with intention, choosing to be guided by what we want rather than what we fear, we find the relationships that truly fulfil us and can finally leave the past where it belongs.