How do I know if I'm being vulnerable or just losing my boundaries with someone?

This is the question Rabia would sit with you over tea about. Vulnerability isn't the absence of boundaries—it's the *clarity* of them. When you're truly vulnerable, you know what you're offering and why. You can say no. You can leave. You're choosing to open yourself despite the risk, not because you've forgotten you have a choice. The difference shows up in your body. Real vulnerability feels tender but grounded. Boundary-crossing feels like drowning—like you're disappearing to keep someone else comfortable. Rabia loved fiercely, but she never loved from a place of self-abandonment. She loved from her own wholeness. Ask yourself: Am I here because I want to be, or because I'm afraid to leave? Can I name what I need? Do I feel seen, or just useful? These aren't small questions. They're the architecture of how you relate. Start small. Practice saying one small no this week. Notice what happens in your chest. Vulnerability grows stronger when you know you can protect yourself.