The Walls We Build

Walls are strange, silent things. They don’t always appear to us in the way we expect. Sometimes, they are tangible—constructed of brick and mortar, stone and wood. Other times, they are made of silence, distance, or unspoken expectations. And yet, whether seen or unseen, walls have an extraordinary power to shape our lives, especially in relationships.

We often think of walls as something we build around ourselves to protect us from the world. But walls are not just barriers to the outside; sometimes, they separate us from the people closest to us. One person can construct a wall—a wall of hurt, of fear, or of misunderstanding—and the other might never even notice it’s there. Or worse, they might notice it, but not understand how deeply it cuts.

The Unseen Wall

Imagine a relationship, one that once flourished with warmth, understanding, and connection. Over time, however, small fractures begin to appear—subtle changes, maybe a cutting remark, a forgotten promise, or a dismissed concern. These moments don’t seem like much at first. They’re dismissed, rationalized, ignored. “It’s just a misunderstanding,” we tell ourselves. “It’ll pass.”

But each of those little moments is like a brick, carefully and quietly placed in a wall between two people. The person on the receiving end of these actions might feel the shift, the change in the air, the growing distance. They might try to reach out, to communicate, to break the silence. But as the wall grows taller, the words seem to fall flat, unheard or misunderstood.

They try to talk, but what they say is met with indifference. Or worse, they’re told, “You’re overreacting.” It’s not that the other person is deliberately hurting them—it’s that they don’t understand how their actions are impacting the other person. To them, everything is fine. They might even feel like they’ve done nothing wrong. They didn’t intend to build a wall; they never saw the foundation being laid. They didn’t notice the cracks forming, the subtle but growing distance between them.

And for the one on the other side of the wall, it feels like shouting into an empty room. They’ve expressed their pain, tried to explain their feelings, but nothing changes. The other person either doesn’t respond, or if they do, it’s with a casual dismissal, or worse, an apology that feels empty, without real acknowledgment of the deeper hurt.

The Weight of Being Misunderstood

Walls are dangerous because they prevent us from truly seeing each other. When someone is building a wall, they are also withdrawing from the other person, refusing to meet them where they are. The person on the receiving end is left in confusion, grappling with a sense of isolation and loneliness, often without understanding why.

And here lies the tragedy: when the person who’s building the wall doesn’t recognize its existence, they never see how their words or actions are shaping the world of the person on the other side. They never realize that, to the other person, the relationship feels like it’s slowly suffocating under the weight of unspoken pain.

The person behind the wall might try, again and again, to communicate. Maybe they send messages, maybe they cry, maybe they express their frustrations, but all of it seems to fall on deaf ears. And every time their efforts are met with resistance, indifference, or dismissal, the wall becomes higher and thicker.

They might start to wonder, “Why am I the only one trying? Why can’t they see what this is doing to me?” And with each unanswered plea, the wall strengthens, turning from an obstacle into an impenetrable fortress.

The Role of Awareness and Empathy

The person who’s unaware of the wall’s existence doesn’t always act maliciously. They might not even be aware of the hurt they’re causing. But even when they are told, even when the person behind the wall opens their heart and lays it bare, it’s not always enough for the other person to see the truth. Maybe they don’t realize how deeply their actions have impacted their partner, friend, or loved one. Maybe they’re caught up in their own world, too consumed with their own thoughts or struggles to notice the slow decay of the connection they share with the other person.

But the thing about walls is that they aren’t permanent—unless we let them be. The wall only remains as long as both people are unwilling to address it. If one person tries to break it down, but the other keeps building it higher, the effort to tear it down becomes exhausting, futile. The person who feels hurt may eventually stop trying altogether, because the effort it takes to push against a wall that won’t budge is too painful, too depleting.

This is where awareness becomes critical. One person cannot break the wall alone. Both parties need to be willing to see it, to acknowledge it, to understand the deep effects of their actions. It’s not enough to hear the words or the complaints; they must truly see the person behind them. They must understand that the hurt isn’t an exaggeration—it’s real. And it’s not about guilt or blame—it’s about recognizing that the way we treat others matters, even when we don’t think it does. Every small action, every word, every gesture, builds the foundation of a relationship, and if we’re not careful, it can unintentionally create a barrier between us.

The Hope of Rebuilding

The walls we build can seem insurmountable at times, but even the thickest walls can be dismantled, brick by brick, if both people are willing to do the hard work of listening, acknowledging, and understanding. This doesn’t mean that all conflicts can be resolved easily. Some walls are born out of deeper issues—fear, insecurity, past trauma—that take time and patience to heal. But they can be broken down.

The first step is acknowledging that the wall exists. It’s about listening, not just to the words, but to the hurt, the pain, the fear behind those words. It’s about seeing that sometimes, the other person is not asking for a solution—they are asking to be seen, to be heard, to be understood. The second step is understanding that healing takes time. It’s a slow process. There will be moments of regression, moments when it feels like the wall is going up again. But the key is to continue trying, even when it feels like the effort is hopeless.

If both people are willing to meet halfway, to be vulnerable enough to see and accept each other’s pain, then the wall can come down. It may never be completely gone, but the cracks will start to appear, and through those cracks, light can shine in.

But for this to happen, the person who’s unaware of the wall must be willing to look beyond their own perspective and see the effect their actions have on the person they love. Only then can the true healing begin. Only then can the relationship be rebuilt—not on the foundation of perfection, but on the understanding that both people, with all their flaws and hurts, are worthy of each other’s care and attention.

It’s not easy, and it’s not quick. But it’s the only way forward. Without it, the walls we build will continue to separate us, creating distance where there should be connection, and silence where there should be love.

Walls may be inevitable at times, but they don’t have to last forever.