Original Advice

DO: Do set boundaries and revisit them regularly.

Draw Lines. Redraw Them.

Here’s the part you don’t like: you confuse devotion with access. You hand out spare keys, then resent the break-ins. Your silence says yes when your body says no. You expect mind-reading; you deliver stings after trespass. This is self-sabotage dressed as loyalty. Close the gates. Label the rooms. No tours after dark. Love doesn’t require unlocked doors.

Boundaries are living architecture. As you molt, the map changes. If you don’t revise the perimeter, old versions of you keep granting entry. Deep water needs banks or it becomes a swamp. Rules make room for devotion to breathe. Schedule maintenance. Audit access. Change the codes after revelations, after closeness, after endings. Speak the rules out loud. Post them on the fridge.

Cosmic Context

You are Fixed Water: depth under pressure, loyalty with edges. Pluto molts the shell; Mars guards the gate.

Action

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Write three rules for access; text them to your lover.

You are allowed to change locks without explaining why.