Forever a teenage girl
Trust is such an interesting thing, I think most people assume that it’s simple. Two people trust each other because they have no reason not to trust one another, or a patient trusts their doctor because they know they’re a qualified physician. I guess it could be this simple in theory, for some, I am sure it is. However, I find trust to be very complex and deeply annoying.
Trusting someone or something is holding a firm belief. It’s not pondering the what-ifs of a situation; it’s fully and wholeheartedly believing in the integrity of another. I wish this weren’t as difficult as it is. I mean, I always give strangers the benefit of the doubt, and I don’t typically tend to believe everyone is a liar unless it’s proven they are, so why do I struggle with trust so much? Maybe it’s because I’m vulnerable right now, almost 20 years old, living away from home and figuring out who I am. Perhaps I have been fooled by too many people, and I’m trying to sniff out a pattern that doesn’t even exist. Like most people, I don’t want to get hurt, but I do want connection. From what I’ve learnt in my life so far, finding a connection with someone without any semblance of hurt is impossible. This could be a pessimistic view on things, but it’s a truth I’ve come to out of experience.
This is in no way me saying connections aren’t worth it. In fact, I think that any friendship or romantic relationship you can find that will bring you joy must be worth it, one way or another. I’ve recently found myself really resonating with the whole “it’s the journey that matters not the destination” bullshit. It sounds corny, but after reflecting on it, I do feel better about my past relationships. Knowing that our memories and inside jokes can still bring me joy, even if they are no longer in my present life. Even when things end roughly, and you spend countless nights crying because you feel betrayed or a sense of grief over someone you never thought you were gonna lose, you can be happy that it happened. Happy that there once existed a version of you, filled with joy, spending time with someone who made you smile and worry a little less.
That was a lot of rambling from me to try and explain that although recently I’ve found trust to be a complicated topic, I don’t ever want to let it ruin what could possibly become something. My problem with trust is that I either trust someone blindly or can’t trust them at all. I’m struggling to pick which one is worse. On one hand, you’re allowing yourself a world of hurt. Trusting the wrong person has consequences, and most of the time, these consequences linger like the chorus of a random radio song in your head. Blind trust is also often accompanied by forgiveness to those who don’t deserve it. This can get dangerous because you fall into this cycle of trust/betrayal/forgiveness.
But not trusting anyone at all? All that has ever done for anybody is keep them alone. It doesn’t matter how hard you want it or how many times you tell yourself your fears are irrational; the inability to trust someone destroys the connection you have with them. It eats away at it until there’s nothing left but your self-pity. One serves as a form of protection from another, and vice versa. It’s a useless conversation between those who want to be seen and loved, and the overwhelming fear of being hurt and abandoned.
I hope to one day understand the perfect balance between these two. Trusting someone because you can, because trust is a two-way street and not something to fear or face by yourself. Trust is beautiful because it’s vulnerable, the same reason it’s so difficult to get right. Vulnerability is raw; it opens your heart and pours it out to another person without knowing whether they will catch it. It’s complicated and beautiful and worth it. It’s worth it even when you can’t fully understand it.
Bambie 