How to Trust Someone Who Hurt You

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I had trust figured out all wrong

When I was younger, I used to think trusting someone is about being convinced they are not going to harm you. In a relationship, a partner is not going to do something you would hate. Is not going to cheat on you. Is not going to go behind your back.

Unfortunately, I learned from an early age that people screw up. High school sweethearts making out with my best friend. Said friend, making out with my high school sweethearts. Partners making promises and then breaking them as soon as it would be convenient to him.

Brought up on the romantic idea that you those who go behind your back or break promises are best avoided I developed severe trust issues. I would mistrust my friends, my partners and people in general… Vulnerability (the consequence of trust) became a dirty word in my vocabulary.

Those who distrust often rationalize their lack of trust and I certainly did. “You never know! I can’t be 100% sure that he/she won’t hurt me! It’s happened before! I… I just don’t want to get hurt!”

Because in the end that’s the thing, isn’t it? We don’t want to get hurt. We shy away from the pain. And we choose to get attached to those who are the least likely to inflict pain on us. Or with whom we are least likely to inflict pain on ourselves.

The Trust Paradox

In the end, I saw two ways to go about trust:

1. Trust someone: have the expectation that they are not going to hurt me. Also, either disengage or punish them when they do. How dare they, break my expectations of the people they should be towards me?

2. Don’t trust someone: have the expectation that someone may hurt me. Don’t get too attached. Feel lonely and broken and traumatized. Blame my past. Play the victim card.

As I tried to be vulnerable and build new bonds, I contemplated these two approaches. So… what if I could picture someone screwing up and me getting hurt? Does that mean I shouldn’t be vulnerable with them? But then, what is vulnerability? Isn’t the entire idea of vulnerability that you accept the possibility of getting hurt? How does that work if trusting someone means I reject the possibility of getting hurt? I can’t have it both ways, can I… Either I reject the possibility of getting hurt — in which case I’m not being vulnerable — OR I embrace the possibility of getting hurt — in which case I don’t trust someone. My mind was spinning. It just didn’t make a whole lot of sense.

As it happens, my partner did not make matters easier. After having him break up with me twice only to get back together several months later, I had to make up my mind. Yes, he was changing… but I knew that if he’d left me before he could do it again. In fact, he was very open about it: “I don’t trust myself in this, and I don’t blame you if you don’t, either”. Not the thing I wanted to hear. But I knew he was right.
Clearly, I couldn’t have this blind faith he wouldn’t hurt me. Which would leave me with the option of distrusting him and detaching myself so I wouldn’t get hurt. But for some strange reason (/sarcasm) that didn’t strike me as a great basis for a relationship. And — stubborn as I am — I also wasn’t ready to give up on the relationship entirely.

Letting go

The whole mess really got to me. I felt inadequate as a partner. Both unlovable and uncapable of love.

And then… I left.

Okay I’m just saying it like that for the melodramatic effect. I didn’t leave the relationship. I just left for a longish trip. A month spent in a completely new surrounding (more than one actually) I experienced being thrown in all kinds of emotional turmoil. And as usual, by the end of my trip I felt like a new person. There was so much I had learned about myself! It wasn’t necessarily a fun trip, but it was the trip I needed (ha, and for a change I’m not saying this about a psychedelic trip).

Had someone asked me from the start to sign up for the emotional mess I found myself in on the trip, I would have laughed in their face first and run away screaming next. Luckily, no one ever gave me a choice. And once I untangled myself and put together the pieces of my sanity I realized — hey, this was really, really good for me.

And maybe… maybe it’s okay to experience shit. Maybe it’s okay to trust that the shit will bring me exactly what I need.

I don’t know if you’re getting the light bulb moment right now, but I definitely did when I had this thought.

Oh.

Oh, it’s not about trusting my partner.

It’s not even about trusting myself.

It’s about trusting the whole damn universe.

It’s about trusting that whatever happens in my relationship — joy, pain, adventure — it’s going to make me the person I want to become. It’s going to bring be the exact lessons I need. About courage, about strength, about tenderness.

So ultimately, it’s about… letting go.

I don’t need to trust my partner not to screw up.

All I need is to trust that if he does hurt me — I need this pain to learn from it. To trust that whatever pain comes my way — it’s bringing me so much more than comfort ever could.

And you know what? With my past, this is easy to trust…

After all — so far, behind the veils of every broken heart, every tear and every fear, I caught more and more glimpses of the person I want to be.

So although I know there will be many more nights when I’ll ask myself whether I’m a masochist for choosing learning over comfortable illusions… For now, I trust.

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Disclaimer: I’m most definitely not saying you should stay with people who hurt you. Especially if your partner is abusive, do seek help and leave. Don’t be afraid to choose yourself at any moment.

But if you feel that your relationship is making you a better person… don’t let fear stop you from staying.

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Previously published on medium.com and is republished here under permission.
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