Lessons in Trust

Are you holding a grudge? About?

I used to hold a monstrous grudge against my parents. They did so much damage, you see. But with each layer of healing from that damage, I find more acceptance. I recognize that my path is my path. The resilient and strong woman that I have become, the life I have been able to build, the awakening of my soul that unfolds day by day, the gifts I have to share. None of these things are possible without having lived the life set before me.

That being said, this is not about excusing or allowing toxic behavior, and I still find pockets of anger when triggers woven into my fascia flare up as a reminder of all that I have been through. It could have been worse, but it was still too much. The damage slinks around in my nervous system, diminishing bit by bit, but still lurking in the shadows to catch me in moments of weakness.

The rewiring of a nervous system is an arduous re-education. Creating space, building neuroplasticity, repatterining behavior, discarding limiting beliefs, embracing my shadow side, grounding into the beauty of now without waiting for the other shoe to drop. Bad things happened, but that part of life is over, and this part -now- is mine to create.

It has been interesting, in a mournful sort of way to learn how marriage can trigger and mimic old wounds. As I navigate the challenges of a decades old union I am learning that the people you love are likely to hurt you along the way, some times in brutally familiar ways. It’s odd how the circumstances of hurts don’t need to resemble each other in any way, shape or form to pull up remarkably similar traumas. Trust can be demolished by a tsunami or a jackhammer, but be demolished nonetheless. Lies are lies and emotional safety is emotional safety; it doesn’t much matter what they are about or if it is withheld or destroyed.

And so I breathe and I find balance between finding my own safety by being my own teacher, supporting myself without isolating completely. I dip my toes into the waters of trust, perhaps leaving shoes on to start. First I trust the universe and know that eventually the dots will connect and I will see the forest for the trees. Then I trust myself, giving grace knowing that I may forever be a student in protecting myself, as I am self taught. Eventually I believe I will trust my husband again, to hold my heart with the reverence and gentleness I deserve. However, I have promised my nervous system that I will believe patterns over words, so as to not keep relearning this lesson. But trusting my parents again would be foolish. In 47 years the patterns have been consistent. They have failed every test. They have never done their homework and regularly skip class altogether.

So no I’m not holding a grudge. I am simply cautious and prudent. I am creating and holding boundaries. I accept what was, but the likelihood of forgetting is slim. Forgiveness comes and goes, the final exam in this lesson. Ever the goal, and I will continue to study hard. Some Little Victories take a lifetime of education.