Trust Issues
Trust (n): firm belief in the reliability, truth, ability, or strength of someone or something.
Trust is…a really weird thing. Or maybe it’s just me.
I never really consciously thought about the concept of “trust” and what it meant until I was sitting in my counselor’s office, frustrated and mournful, when she told me, “I don’t think you ever really trusted your ex.”
I just sat there for a while, with my mouth hanging open, while she explained to me that trust needed to be earned, and that he clearly did not deserve the trust that I tried so hard to extend to him.
All this time, I thought I was doing my very best to be feel safe with someone I loved, when in reality, I was destroying my sense of trust.
I feel like most people, when they confront people they shouldn’t trust, they shut down and move on. Who cares anyway?
But for me, because of that toxic relationship with my ex and my pride, I thought that any insecurity that I had in any interpersonal relationship was my responsibility. I thought that I was just needy and unstable, and that I had to do all I could to resolve my interpersonal issues. To do so, I overexerted myself. I shared everything with him — big or small — even when he responded hurtfully, even when he didn’t care — I would push myself to fix this growing feeling of brokenness by building and supporting a one-sided relationship.
Even after him, and even after I learned that my trust had been heavily abused (both by me and by him), I had a hard time refraining from sharing everything with everyone, and expecting the best from everyone. I was desperate.
“Please. Let me trust you. Let you be someone safe, someone who is worthy of my trust.”
Again and again, my counselor had to tell me, “You don’t need to tell them this. They don’t deserve anything. They haven’t earned anything.” Again and again, I didn’t understand. The pain of a broken trust was too great for me to discount, and I told myself that I needed to fix it.
A broken trust means danger. It’s one less safe space for me to rest in. But I kept on forcing it, because I was scared, and needed that security.
But before long, not even attempting to risk trusting others became a more comfortable method for me to cope with. I began to notice that the consequences of my broken trust would manifest in various different ways that I could no longer control. Trust issues from when I was younger, unable to trust my parents, bleed into my relationships of all the adults in my life as I wear a facade to appear as a quiet, sweet girl to avoid sharing my true self that would so often be trivialized and suffocated. Trust issues when my friends display vague characteristics of my ex, throwing me back to the times of great confusion and suffering. Mapping his identity and behavior onto the people around me, I quickly retract my trust and lock it down to avoid getting hurt again.
My trust issues became my defense mechanism. When before I fought hard to build trust, now it feels safe to be back at square one of a relationship, because then, nothing is at stake. I swallow the ever rising anxiety and the discomfort over and over again, because that’s less tiring than having to work it out on my own.
I understand those people now who don’t have the energy to deal with these broken relationships.
At my latest meeting with my counselor, she shared with me the five stages to a romantic relationship, which she said could also be applied to friendships as well.
Know → Trust → Rely → Commit → Touch
Man, if only I knew about this earlier.
I know lots of people — on a surface level at least— people I care deeply about, people I like, and people I dislike. I trust people I enjoy the company of, and rely on those whom care deeply about me and likewise, whom I care deeply about. I will eventually commit to the person I would like to spend the rest of my life with, and within a covenant, be able to experience intimacy with.
With my ex, I had known him, and he had earned my trust as a friend. But when I began to rely on him, the bridge of trust began to burn, and I was left stranded.
With my parents, I know them, but I don’t know if I can say I trust them. I rely on them physically, but not emotionally, mentally, and spiritually.
With the people whom my trust issues have displaced, I know them, and I want to trust them, but I have been so conditioned to stay away from characteristics that resemble people I don’t trust that my mind screams against it. I begin to have trouble breathing. I feel nauseous. I break down out of fear. I begin to put them in boxes so I can keep them at a distance, stored away, so I can feel safe.
It’s not their fault.
And it’s not necessarily my fault.
So I don’t know what to do.
One of my favorite verses in high school when I was going through my people-pleasing phase was Psalm 146:3–5:
“Do not put your trust in princes, in human beings, who cannot save. When their spirit departs, they return to the ground; on that very day their plans come to nothing. Blessed are those whose help is the God of Jacob, whose hope is in the LORD their God.”
Do not put your trust in princes, in human beings, who cannot save.
What does it mean to be safe? There are so many definitions, varying from sports to mortality. No matter how hard I try, I and other people can never truly guarantee my safety — emotionally, mentally, physically, spiritually. I can try my very best to preserve it, but I can never ensure it.
When their spirit departs, they return to the ground; on that very day their plans come to nothing.
Everything I do to preserve my emotional, mental, physical wellbeing comes to an abrupt halt when all that remains is my spirit. I may think I feel safe now, but in reality, I never was.
Blessed are those whose help is the God of Jacob, whose hope is in the LORD their God.
What do I hope for from God if my earthly safety is not guaranteed? My spiritual safety? Is that all there is that can be guaranteed? Something that I can’t even see?
Something that someone told me recently is that everyone has trust issues with God. Similar to how I project other people’s malicious actions onto objectively trustworthy people, I also project all of the brokenness that exists in the people around me onto my God.
Just the other day, I sat in my bed and cried out to Him, “You played me! You’re playing me! You’re no better than the people that have hurt and deceived me.”
Quickly He responded, “No, I didn’t. I was guiding you the whole time, but you wouldn’t listen to me. You wouldn’t trust me.”
Is it true? Is God trustworthy? I can’t recall a moment He had failed me. If anything, He was calling for my soul everyday, seeking me even when I run away, just like how I run away from facing my lack of trust in my parents. I run away to escape, but also to foolishly find other “secure” sources of superficial safety that gave me these trust issues to begin with.
My soul is safe with the Lord. My physical body may be at jeopardy, my emotional health may be challenged, my intelligence may be lacking — but none define me. The essence of who I am is safe with my Savior, and I am called to hope and trust in Him.
I don’t want to be someone who fights to build a one-sided bridge, because my trust needs to be earned. But I also don’t want to be someone who pushes away the people in which their confidence has been broken, because Love himself sought me out despite my unwillingness to trust. And after all this, I still don’t know how to balance the two. I don’t know how to fix these problems in my heart.
But this I do know — that the One in whom I can build my trust upon will always remain constant, even when humans do not. That while I may not be able to repair my trust with all people, I can entrust my everything to Him, because only with Him is all that I am truly safe.
That as I learn to trust my Father more and more, that He will show me what it looks like to trust normally again.
That those who love Him will learn how to love like Him, so that the injustices and these trust issues can also be redeemed through broken vessels working under a perfect Maker…even if it means loving someone just a little more than what’s enough.
Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight. — Proverbs 3:5–6
