They Mistook My Grief for Weakness and My Silence for Permission — Until a Uniformed Officer Saluted Me at My Own Door
Each additional silence confirmed it.
By the time they were dividing up my bedroom, they were not being cruel in their own minds, or not only cruel; they genuinely believed, on the accumulated evidence of a hundred unopposed intrusions, that I was a person who did not defend her space, and that taking it was therefore not a violation but simply the way our family worked.
I had, through nothing but exhausted silence, taught them that lesson myself.
This is the cruel bind of the grieving and the depleted: the very state that makes you unable to defend your boundaries is read, by the people crossing them, as consent to their crossing.