The other day, I watched a quick video of a tweenish girl attempting her first “trust fall.” The girl behind the camera explained to her clearly, that she was to fall into the other awaiting girl’s arms. She stood with her arms crossed and eyes closed and took the plunge… FORWARD!
One can only assume where the miscommunication was, but I am confident that she will probably be very wary about trying it again… never mind trusting the other two girls again.
Trust touches our lives almost every minute of every day. You probably don’t realize it, but here are some examples. You trust that:
- Your doctor knows what he’s doing/prescribing
- Your house was built properly and won’t cave in while you sleep
- Your car was assembled properly so that your brakes won’t fail
- The weather forecast is correct (forget that one… don’t know what I was thinking)
- Your grocery bag will withstand the weight of its contents
- Your paycheque won’t bounce
- The world is actually round, and you won’t fall off the edge when you go on your long anticipated world cruise.
Every time you turn around, you are forced to put your trust in someone or something. It’s unavoidable.
What if you can’t trust your partner? Can your relationship survive?
What if your partner breaches your trust? Can you ever re-trust?
Although I do my best to keep my glass half-full as often as possible, this is a tough one for me. It’s a tough one for many.
Prior to meeting my forever-husband, I was in three major relationships (two of which were marriages). All three of those men, without exception, breached my trust in one way or another. As I described in my book Living Out Loud I took a large step back before entering the dating world after the demise of my marriage to my second husband. I did not feel it was fair to a potential romantic prospect to paint him with that same distrusting brush. I was damaged goods, and I realized it right out of the gate.
During my journey in the online dating world, I dated two men who had one thing in common—both of their wives had cheated on them. Unfortunately, neither of them was able to heal enough from their trust issue to allow me fully into their respective worlds. That hurt. It hurt that they both painted me with that same brush I was doing my best to not to brandish.
When I met my forever-husband, I realized very quickly that my trust wounds were still wide open. The worst part of it all was that it was completely unfounded. At the height of my trust issues, my husband and I were inseparable. There was no reason for me to have those feelings whatsoever. Yet, if I had to open a drawer, box, or closet (or even to empty his pockets while doing laundry), I would instantly get a knot in my stomach and my hands would begin to shake.
That knot in my stomach took up residence with me back when I was seventeen, and it’s never taken leave for very long. During my two failed marriages, I swear it brought its entire family to live with me—that is how I spent my every waking moment. (And it had nothing to do with the fact that my mother told me I looked different from everyone else in the family because gypsies left me at their door.)
So can we heal from it? Are humans capable of actually surviving the curse of breached trust?
I think it’s possible, but I haven’t found a magic salve to cure mine. Almost eight years after meeting my husband, I still have great difficulty trusting anyone. Maybe that’s normal. Maybe it’s not.
What about those folks who have gone blissfully along in a relationship, only to have their partner do something dishonest. Can they recover based on the justification their partner was just trying to protect them, or not burden them with the ugly truth of a situation?
The bliss is gone, my friends.
What that well-intentioned partner will have to do, from that day forward, is feed the lie to ensure its ongoing validity. My husband always says, “Lies have short legs,” but I prefer to say, “Lies breed like rabbits.”
To be quite honest, I used to think that lying was a genetic defect in men. As the years passed, and I had more life experience under my belt, I realized that it was just my own personal past skewing my view. There are some very deceitful women out there too.
Do I lie? Yes I do. We all do.
I’m not very adept at lying for the sake of harm or deceit (I look like a deer in headlights, and my face goes beet red), but the confidentiality of my day job does require that I not divulge the truth of a situation to colleagues. But if you need to plan a surprise for someone, I’m your woman. Don’t believe me? Read my book. The things I pulled off to surprise my husband could possibly go down in history.
Do my hands still shake when I open a drawer that belongs to my husband? Not really, but I still hesitate. I guess, subconsciously, I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Is it his fault? No, not at all.
Maybe one day they’ll find a cure for it. Oh wait… There already is a cure… It’s called…