TRUST.
(This is a piece I wrote 2 years ago, almost to the day. This week, which also happens to mark our 4 year anniversary, I’ll be sharing a follow up post to report on what I’ve learned since then, what’s still true and what’s changed.)
Do I trust him? I do.
And I don’t. (Does it matter?)
I trust his love, his commitment, his loyalty, and his devotion. I trust his character and his heart and his higher self.
I do not, however, trust his fear, his doubt, or his patriarchal program that taught him to derive his value and self-worth (and therefore survival) on the firmness of his partner’s flesh, the balance in his bank account, or the inches in his britches.
Most dubiously, I don’t trust his self esteem or self loathing, the same way I don’t yet (fully) trust mine.
Right now, the difference seems to be that I’ve faced mine. A lot. For decades. I’ve wrestled with, abused, befriended, soothed and healed so many of those parts of me, those demons and teachers, that I no longer fear or mistrust them the way I used to.
I know them, intimately. I know their shenanigans. I know how destructive and determined they can be. And now, I know what to look for; how they feel and sound and operate. They don’t get the better of me these days, mostly.
But what about him? He hasn’t. Not yet. Not much. And so I don’t trust his secrecy, his shame, or his ego. I don’t trust his discernment or his courage in the face of the worst of it. Not yet.
Great, now what!?
I trust me. And, I choose to trust those greater parts of him; trust them to be allies.
I trust his process. I trust his path, and mine. I trust ‘the path’, the big one that I believe is designed for our benefit, not our demise. And above all else, I trust me.
I trust my resilience and my revival. I trust that if he runs headlong into her vagina and her heart, and out of mine, I will grieve, feel, and be reborn. Again. Always better.
I am indestructible. Magic and energy and starlight, no end and no beginning. I’ve always been here, and I will remain. My body on earth will die, someday, but until then, I am unstoppable.
I’ve been cut to the bone, to the quick, to the heart, and 'Still I rise'. I’ve been dissolved, dismembered, disintegrated, and burned to ash. Again, I rise. Above all else, I trust the rise.
This assuredness is what allows me to risk, to dare, to dream, and to trust. To lean in, to love, and to fail in the pursuit of greatness.
Good News / Bad News...
When we say we ‘trust’ something or someone, I reckon what we really mean is that we believe we're ‘safe’ under those conditions. We trust the bridge because we believe we’ll be safe as we cross it. We trust someone close because we feel safe in their arms. We believe we won’t be hurt in their presence.
The unromantic truth is - all of that is temporary and imperfect. People, especially, will fail. They will cause injury, whether on purpose or by accident.
However, when we build unshakable trust in ourselves, in our own becoming and unconditional self love, then we’re ‘safe’ everywhere, all the time. No matter what, we will rise, and that kind of trust changes everything.
You too will rise.
Here's a reminder when you need it.