“Mistake” Is Not a Defense — Even for the So-Called Lovers
On emotional trespass, energetic theft, and the quiet death of authenticity.
“Mistake is not a defense to trespass” — I read that in Torts while studying for the California Bar Exam, and well — if you know me, you probably already guessed — I paused.
“Wait a minute… how come mistake is not a defense to trespass — yet all these men who trespass on my heart and soul consider mistake a valid justification, if not an excuse?”
“Meh,” said my Logical Side to my Less-Logical Side, smirking while adjusting her glasses and returning to whatever know-it-all book she was reading. “What are you gonna do? Sue them?”
(Side note: you’ve got to understand — my different personalities have different versions of themselves, on a spectrum of extremes: highs and lows. So that same Logical Side? She can show up as three different people depending on the day. But don’t get stressed out — they sometimes align, especially when they care passionately about something. In those cases, you only need to argue with one version of that type of personality.)
“You’ve gotta do a family tree one of these days — for you and your personalities,” says my Anxious Personality, in a caring motherly tone.
“I know, I know,” I nod. Just so I can move on. Otherwise, I’ll be trapped inside my own head, arguing until dawn.
“You’re lucky the Overthinker isn’t up yet. She was up till sunrise, obviously overthinking something…” says my Sarcastic Personality.
Sigh. Moving on.
Where was I?
Right. Mistakes. Trespass. Lovers. And — well — that’s not fair. Where is the justice in all this?
Obviously, my Mars in Libra cares passionately about justice in all things concerning everyone and everything.
Now, you might think this is a story about past lovers. If that’s the case, stop reading now. Time is a precious commodity, and I don’t want to waste yours.
This has nothing to do with past lovers.
This is a story about justice.
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What gives us — some of us — the right to take, take, take… and not give back?
And I’m not just talking about love or — material possessions. I’m talking about love, care, energy, presence.
This isn’t a piece about romance.
It’s a story about the pain of being a giver — a natural giver; one who genuinely enjoys caring, helping, and making others feel seen —
and her tired soul, because even a giver needs a safe space to fall apart.
But because of all you trespassers — whether lovers or family members, friends or coworkers, acquaintances or not —
my Fair Personality, in her extreme, high-passionate state, forbade — no, commanded — my entire being to stop giving.
And to my Giver Personality, that was a death sentence.
And to the entirety of me, and my essence — including all parts of all my personalities— that was the death of my authenticity.
My pure, genuine, original self.
And I don’t know who you think you are — or what you think you’re entitled to — but you have no right to rob someone of their birthright to live an authentic life.
So next time you fall in love, or plan to take someone’s time, energy, love, care — or anything else that cannot be replaced by materiality — pause and ask yourself:
“Is there a chance that my taking would be considered an eminent domain*?”
And if the answer is anywhere on the sliding bar of “yes,” then understand:
You can be considered a murderer.
At least according to my standards —
a murderer of someone’s right to be their authentic self in this lifetime.
*Eminent domain is the power of the government to take private property for public use, even if the owner doesn’t want to sell.
Some of us are born givers. But even we have limits.
Even we need boundaries.
And even we deserve justice.
Music: “Echoes” by Denis Stelmakh
© 2025 Stella (@stellabellat). All rights reserved. Do not copy or republish without permission. For inquiries, message me on Medium.
