“You have to trust me” he said as he slowly tried to slide his hands between my legs that were clenched closed.
I remember the comment like it was yesterday despite the fact that it was over 2 years ago now.
In the moment that he made the comment I can remember wondering why my body clearly wasn’t trusting him. My legs were clenched close, my arms were held close to my side and my hands were clenched close. No part of my body was open or trusting of this man.
“You have vulnerability, control and trust issues” he told me.
But…… do I?
I silently wondered if he was right or if I was right. Was he pointing out something that I couldn’t see about myself? Was he a mirror for me to see that I was incredibly closed off and unable or unwilling to be vulnerable and trust him?
Years later, I look back at that night and that conversation and my heart hurts. My heart hurts for the version of me who needed to question myself. It wasn’t ever that I couldn’t trust him, it was that I shouldn’t trust him. I am capable of trusting anyone who I should trust, and I went on to prove that to myself. My body was clearly telling me that this wasn’t a safe man for me to love. He was never violent, he was never cruel, he was never abusive and he was never gentle, he was never understanding, he was never open, he was never loving, he was never my person. My body was telling me so clearly that he was not my person. By no means is he a bad person, he just wasn’t safe and healthy for me.
He was exactly what I needed, which may sound odd but it is true. He taught me so much about myself. He taught me that I wanted more than he was ever able to offer me. I wanted to feel loved. I wanted to feel safe. I wanted to feel important. I wanted to feel equal. I wanted to feel belonging. And, now I have all of those things but only because I was willing to walk away when I realized that he would never be able to give me those things.
