Relationships & Self-Trust: Learning to Love and Trust Myself
My first relationship set the tone for everything that followed.
It wasn’t something I chose freely—it just happened. I was 25, and honestly, I didn’t know what I wanted or even what a healthy relationship looked like. It lasted three years, but the way it ended left me with trauma, pain, and a deep sense of betrayal. That breakup didn’t just break my heart; it broke my trust in everyone around me—friends, family, even my own sister. Seeing people I loved side with someone who hurt me, feeling abandoned by those I thought would protect me—it shattered something inside.
After that, trust was almost impossible.
The second relationship came much later, in my mid-30s, and I was still carrying all that pain. I rushed into it, desperate just to be with someone, not because I knew what I wanted, but because I didn’t believe I deserved anything better. I never really trusted her—or myself. I didn’t set boundaries. I just tried to survive.
The truth is, I spent years feeling unworthy of love.
I took whatever came along, never believing I could ask for more. Both relationships left scars that I carried into every part of my life.
Then, in the summer of 2025, everything changed.
Someone entered my life who showed me a different kind of connection—something soul-deep and undeniable. For the first time, I felt seen, valued, and truly loved. It was intense, beautiful, and brief. And then, without warning, she vanished. No explanation, no closure. The pain was like nothing I’d ever felt. I knew she loved me—I could feel it. I saw it in her eyes. But she was gone, and I was left with only questions and heartbreak.
For seven months, I held onto that pain.
I never stopped believing in the connection, even when it hurt. And it was in that space—alone, heartbroken, stripped bare—that the real me started to emerge. I learned to let myself feel everything: the grief, the longing, the confusion, the love. I didn’t numb it or run from it. I let it move through me, and somehow, on the other side, I found strength I didn’t know I had.
Just days ago, she reappeared in my life.
We tried again, but it didn’t work out. And now, somehow, I’m still standing. I’m holding this love for her and for myself at the same time. I don’t fully understand how I have the power to do this, but I know it’s because I finally let myself feel—every ounce of pain, every wave of emotion, every piece of love.
That’s where true self-trust was born: in the willingness to feel it all and still choose myself, to love without losing my own center.
Trust is still hard for me.
It’s not just about romantic relationships. I’ve lost trust in friends and family, too—betrayals, lies, people taking sides. It’s left me with almost no friends, and a lot of loneliness. But what I’m learning now is that self-trust is the foundation.
I can’t control what others do, but I can decide to trust myself—to listen to my intuition, to set boundaries, to believe I deserve love and respect.
If I could speak to my younger self, I’d say this:
You are worthy of love. Your pain is real, but it doesn’t define you. Trust is built, lost, and rebuilt—sometimes many times over. But the most important trust is the trust you build with yourself. That’s where healing starts.