I have huge trust issues. It takes a lot for me to trust someone. I’ve been hurt so many times because I opened up to someone that I’m fiercely guarded about what comes out of my mouth and who listens to it. My secrets
demons are mine and I know how to deal with them.
So when I was dating my husband, he wanted me to open up to him (he still does) and tell him my secrets. It was uncomfortable for me to be so honest, but I tried. Slowly, but surely I started talking. I said small things at first. This was huge for me. He didn’t see it that way. He wanted to hear more. I spoke more. He wanted more. He couldn’t understand why I wasn’t telling him the big stuff. I tried to tell him every secret I told him was an accomplishment from someone who didn’t tell anyone anything. He wanted me to confide in him with everything, meanwhile not really telling me much.
It’s even more difficult for me to open up to someone when they don’t reciprocate. When I told him, he said he wasn’t used to it. Well, neither was I, but I was making the effort. He needed to do the same. Then he started opening up. Some.
This is still an issue for us now. There was some if his secrets that hurt me. And each time he said he didn’t mean to hurt me and he didn’t know that it was wrong. Each time I listened and believed that it would be that last time. How many times can I do that before I don’t believe him anymore?
The other night he said something really mean and hurtful.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I don’t want to hurt you,” he said. “I know I need to regain your trust.”
Please don’t do it again. It hurts me deeply.
Last night he came home from work and was sad. I asked what was wrong and how I could make him feel better.
“I’m sad. I had a bad memory. I don’t want to talk about it. It hurts. Just like when you have a bad memory.”
Um, excuse me? My bad memories are disgusting. I don’t tell you because I don’t want you to think of me like that.
How is it that you want me to trust you, when you don’t trust me enough to tell me?
When I get silence, my thoughts go crazy. I start thinking that it’s something I’m doing. Or not doing. My eating disorder totally runs with the negativity and tells me that I’m not thin enough for him. That’s why he doesn’t tell me. Because there’s someone else. I was his second choice. He’s only with me because someone better rejected him.
I can sometimes realize that’s not the truth. Sometimes.
This is not one of those times.