I’ve Lost My Ability to Trust
I realized today that I don’t have faith in the goodness of others. It’s not something I decided to just stop believing, or was even conscious of. Today, when my daughter’s toy disappeared at the museum, I automatically assumed someone had taken it. This seems like such a small happening, but it equaled a huge realization for me. I professed to my daughter that there was a chance they had turned it in, but I never believed they had. Why would someone do the right thing when they didn’t have to. Why should I trust a someone to make the right choice?
I was wrong, though. Someone actually turned it in, and now I’m left feeling embarrassed that I assumed they wouldn’t. As I wondered why I had jumped to the conclusion they wouldn’t, I had to confront the question of “why would they?” Honestly, no one would know any different, and I’m not entirely sure what compels people to just “do the right thing.”
The fact that someone did, and the ensuing embarrassment, was a great life lesson for my oldest and myself.
How I Got Here
This past year challenged my faith in God, but I didn’t realize until today that although my faith in him remained strong, my trust in my fellow humans fell greatly. I was hurt deeply by someone I had trusted with my whole heart. My daughter’s birth mom asked us to adopt her unborn baby. When he didn’t arrive all I was left with was rumors and speculation. We got caught in a rare situation in the adoption world. My heart was shattered. I can’t judge my daughter’s birth mom because I have never walked in her shoes. However, I can acknowledge my own pain. The utter confusion I felt in my heart. You have to understand, I will always love her because she made the greatest sacrifice in allowing us to adopt her baby girl.
Beyond our failed adoption, it’s also the little things that happen every day: people cutting in front of my stroller, and then giving me a dirty look when I bump into them with it by accident. Or, when you’re trying to get down a busy aisle in Target and everyone is heading right at you with their cart, but refusing to let you through to go the opposite direction.
Honestly, I don’t know how you build that trust back. My New Year’s Resolution could be to change my outlook on others. If I’m realistic, however, I know that will surely fail because others, just like myself, will make decisions and mistakes that will just reinforce what I already assume to be true.
So, maybe instead I should focus on how I can try to build that trust in others. This isn’t a resolution to my realization. At least it’s a place to start.
This year, I will not resolve to have a new me, but at least have a new perspective.