Day 24: Write about a lesson you’ve learned the hard way.
Trust. This is all about trust. When to trust yourself or your gut, or that nagging feeling or tiny voice that whispers, “this is not okay.” I’ve had a long time with myself now and though I know I should listen to that voice, that instinct, I don’t always do it. Because it’s easier to believe that people are inherently good and won’t use or dismiss me for whatever reason. It’s easier to look past someone’s faults and think you’re doing the right, Christian, thing to do. Forgiveness and all that jazz. But really, it’s not. It’s not easy to let yourself down to appease others, or work yourself tirelessly to please someone who will never ever be pleased with you. It just won’t happen.
So yes, my lesson for this blog is all about trust. I’ve learned time immemorial that when I don’t trust myself enough, bad shit happens. Not epically bad necessarily but shit nonetheless. When everyone around me tells me for years that there’s a snake hiding amidst my growing garden and I refuse to believe them because, no, that can’t be right! We’ve shared endless memories and good times – why would so and so hurt me in the end? And look, they did. Immensely. But I allowed it to happen because I didn’t trust in the people I should have OR that all-knowing inner voice. I paid the price – literally, too.
But there’s also relationship trust lessons that were some of the hardest experiences of my life to date. Where I thought I was one thing to one person when really I was something else entirely. I trusted them too much and was left with nothing but an outer shell. I was dead inside, and I wish I was being dramatic but that’s precisely what it felt like – living dead. Just not the creepy gross kind.
There’s broken friendships because of trust as well – the kind where you can’t repair what’s been damaged because you know they’ll do it again, first chance they get. And that’s where the learned lesson has come in. I have been through this time and again to now recognize and listen to the yelling, hollering, scream that’s telling me no, don’t do that. Don’t talk to them. You’re ammo and their the gun. And so I’ve been better, more wise, one might say. And yes, <insert old lady joke here> but really, I’d not have it any other way. I know what I gave to people and what they took from me. And I’m grateful for these vast, expansive lessons on trust, but not the least bit weary anymore. It’s not on me. It’s not on me.