Author’s Note

You don’t have to be a parent to understand what it means to protect someone.

There are roles we step into without being asked—moments where instinct takes over, where someone younger or more vulnerable needs stability, guidance, or simply someone willing to stand between them and whatever they’re facing.

This piece comes from that space.

From being young, but still feeling responsible. From showing up in ways that weren’t expected, but felt necessary. From learning early on what it means to care for someone beyond yourself.

It’s not the same as parenting.

But it’s close enough to understand the weight of it— the instinct, the worry, the quiet responsibility that doesn’t switch off.

And the pride that comes from knowing you helped someone grow into who they’re becoming.

— Rowan Evans

Protective Instinct
Poetry by Rowan Evans

I may not be a parent,
but I understand
how that could shift your mind.

How you’d take
a bullet—
a missile—
whatever it took.

Because I’ve stepped
into protective roles,
been the one
to step in
when they felt
enclosed.

I was safety.
I gave them space
to grow.

I was just eighteen,
they were five years
younger than me.
But still—
I took them
under my wing.

It wasn’t taught—
it was instinct.

I worried through
earthquakes and typhoons,
helped with homework,
asked why they were
online before noon.
“Don’t you have school?”

So no—
I may not be a parent.

But I think it’s apparent:
I understand the dynamic,
the panic—
better than most would.

I’ve stepped up
in other ways.

I’ve helped raise queens,
and guided kings
to better days.

If you’re interested in more poetry, you can find it here → [The Library of Ashes]