This has been on my mind lately because I find trust an interesting thing. Trust often takes a long time to earn, yet can be destroyed in a moment. Once destroyed, it will take longer to regain (if it can be regained at all).
Trust also involves a certain degree of faith and belief. We believe in the other person and we have faith they will come through for us or not disappoint us. This is faith based on past experience, but also (like regular faith) on things unseen. I’ve never seen this person catch someone falling, but I believe they will be there for me when I need it. I trust they will be there even without concrete evidence it will happen.
There was a time, a few years ago, when I didn’t know whom, or when, or IF I would ever trust someone again. I’m talking specifically about a relationship, but it also extended to friends and to a certain extent family, but my focus here is on relationships—partners.
After many years of what I had convinced myself was a wonderful, fulfilling, amazing relationship I was confronted with the harsh reality that was the complete opposite. I was presented with the truth of the relationship which threatened to (and almost did) completely destroy me.
In what felt like an instant, what I believed in with all my heart was taken away. In a word, I was shattered. My trust was shattered. I came face to face with the reality I had been ignoring for years. It became painfully clear how damaging the situation and relationship had been for far too long and I was devastated by loss and realization I had let it go on so long.
In my effort at self-preservation I erected my walls higher than they had ever been (and they were really high before). I didn’t care if anyone ever got through again. I didn’t WANT anyone to get through again. I was torn apart by the thought of being alone the rest of my life, but I was more afraid of someone hurting me again.
Fast-forward several years, many dollars, and much therapy later. Someone managed to get through those walls. What I was even more surprised to discover (when I realized someone had ‘breached the perimeter’) was my misaligned perception of reality. I was certain someone would be forced to chip away at my walls to get in. To my shock (and pleasure) they were able to walk right in. It seemed, I hadn’t fortified myself as well as I thought, or through years of healing, I had cut a hole into the wall myself—cleverly concealing it so only the “right people” could gain entrance.
It was truly a pleasant surprise to learn my walls weren’t as impenetrable as I believed they were. The best part was it happened without me even recognizing it. Before I realized anything had happened, someone was already inside. Better yet, I was OK with that.
So, the old adage is true: Time heals all wounds.