To be known may not be to be loved... but it can't hurt

Substack #8

Hi everyone,

I’m writing this post in my Belgian friends’ living room in Koksidje, Belgium, with only their Dutch-speaking parents for company – the friends in question having gone out for the day. My undergraduate friend group and I were invited, so there are six of us here including the two brothers originally from Belgium. We’ve known each other for about four or five years now.

I rewrote this post several times trying not to sound too negative about everything. Happy New Year, though – that sentiment has been in there each time. I hope everyone reading this stays safe and healthy and, if possible, happy.

Trust

Lately, I’ve been going through somewhat of a personal crisis. As I find myself coming to write it, it feels easier to posit it as a thesis, in a way that a political theorist might. Here goes:

1. Trust is a belief that something or someone will be reliable, honest, or competent.

2. I used to blindly trust in things without considering whether they would fulfil this definition.

3. Because I did not consider it, I trusted in the wrong things and people.

4. It is difficult to trust in things now because I have failed to recognise my blindness more than once.

5. As time passes, I have more negative experiences than positive.

6. Because I have little data about the good, my trust is hardly given out.

7. I continue to push many people away because I cannot trust them.

8. This is a fundamentally miserable existence.

To a lot of people, this is a personal attack. I consider their perspective understandable. “I can’t trust you,” is understood culturally to be the fault of the person who cannot be trusted. Rarely it is considered that a person cannot trust, and yet this is not only real, but common. It certainly exists within me.

Let me explain.

New Years

New Years Eve was… not great. That’s what I’ve settled on as a description. Two minutes after the clock struck midnight, I (unsuccessfully) used the sound of the fireworks exploding to cover up my sobbing. I drank too much - it happens. This is what I’ve been telling myself.

I perhaps boldly linked arms with my friend Lucas and he walked us back (what should’ve been forty minutes but took an hour and twenty) while I was stumbling and rambling about various embarrassing things.

One of these things was, as I explained to Lucas, that I find myself unable to trust anybody lately. Kind of funny, he replied, for someone who feels like such an open book.

I said, “I don’t trust anybody with the stuff that feels really meaningful. And my emotions get out a lot because I can’t hide them well, but does that mean I trust anybody with them?”

Lucas, as I would’ve known if I was sober, reacted poorly to this. “What do you mean you can’t trust me? That hurts my feelings because you’re saying I’m not trustworthy.”

I tried to explain, but I’m not sure how well it went, again pretty understandably.

When we got back, we found our friends lounging around on the sofas.

I said more weird stuff that evening – not only to Lucas, but also to my other friends. Each time I recalled it yesterday, I felt shame in a way that I haven’t since I started addressing shame in therapy.

I knew I was embarrassed at the time, because I started saying things like, “Rori, could you find some Sellotape? I need to permanently tape my mouth shut to stop saying stuff,” and “Guys, do you ever think I’m being overdramatic when I start crying and stuff?”

To the latter, my friend’s boyfriend Ryan, who has been in our group for only a year or two, said, “Quinn, everyone here knows you well enough to know that you aren’t.”

This was the Sellotape I needed. It was the kind of sentence that would’ve made me cry if I weren’t considering so seriously whether it was true or not.

I looked around.

There was Lucas, who I bicker with like we’ve been married for twenty years - it’s brilliant. He’s one of my favourite people to be around. He had also already told me that evening (post “Do you not trust me?” discussion) that I could talk to him about anything, unconditionally. And as I understand of him that he is trying to learn how to apologise, he understands how much I overthink, how deeply I feel.

His brother, Simon, chimed in to agree with Ryan. Simon has seen me in worse states than 99% of people have. We don’t talk a lot one-on-one, but if I’m ever in any kind of situation, he is frequently the first person to offer his house as a place to go. He is principled, reliable and kind. As I understand of him that he has had to be the practical and grounded one often, he understands that I’m trying my best.

Then there was Rori, Simon’s girlfriend, but more importantly, one of my best friends. Rori had already noticed me crying twice that day and taken me aside to talk about it. She’s, by her own words, emotionally unavailable, yet is always there for me. As I understand of her that she has difficulties with opening up, she understands that I worry a lot about my relationships with other people.

Then there was George, who is so full of care for other people. He’s always the most observant person in the group. He always pushes the hardest to help people. As I understand that he is constantly worried about things not going to plan, he understands that I struggle to sleep at particular occasions and that I can’t eat certain foods.

Then Ryan, George’s boyfriend, who is both an extremely grounding presence and emotionally intelligent. I’ve seen how he sprints into action if someone needs something. As I understand that his upbringing was not-ideal, he understands that I need reassurance that everything is okay.

As I looked around, I realised that for each of the people in the room I had stories of the sacrifices we have made for each other, and that there is an understanding that can only be gained by caring enough to find out who someone is.

Trust is a belief that something or someone will be reliable, honest, or competent. I can be blind to whether that is true or not. But as I looked around, I thought, ‘maybe I can trust that these people know who I am, and that I know who they are’. I think this is halfway to the goal of total trust to me. I can at the very least trust that they won’t think I have bad intentions.

Perhaps I can take this lesson and apply it. Who is it who knows me? Who is it that knows well what I value? Who can put their trust in me that I never intend to harm others? I can actually think of some more, so maybe I’m half way to trusting most of my friends.

Those people are also the kind of people that I don’t have to pretend to be someone else with. They’d just see through it anyway.

As always, I’d love to hear your thoughts.

Yours,

Quinn