I thought that I understood trust.  I thought: If I want to feel relaxed and safe around someone, I need to trust them.  For example, I trust my husband as much as I’ve ever trusted anyone in my life.

But I didn’t understand what it was to receive trust.

My mother never trusted me.  I was a straight A+ student, didn’t drink, didn’t smoke, and always kept her up to date on my whereabouts.  But if I was a half hour late for my curfew she’d throw a hairy fit, and yell at me that if I was going to be irresponsible she wouldn’t be surprised if I was out on the streets by this time next year, pregnant and addicted to drugs.

My first husband read my journal and then threw what he found there in my face.

I must have internalized an assumption of my basic untrustworthiness without even realizing it.  I don’t know if I’ve ever even fully trusted myself.

My husband trusts me.  He has trusted me for eight years, but I didn’t know it.  I mean, he told me that he trusted me, but I didn’t get it.  I couldn’t take it in, because I didn’t know anything about being trusted.  I thought hearing the words meant that I understood, but I didn’t understand.

Then my ex-husband contacted me and we started up an e-mail correspondence.  I told my husband about it, and he said it was OK.  I had his permission.  He trusted me.  Still, I experienced tremendous levels of anxiety.  I kept asking for more and more reassurance from my husband.  I checked in with him every time I sent an e-mail to my ex, just to make sure things hadn’t changed.  I expected him to go into my Hotmail account and read our e-mails.  I thought “I trust you” meant, you’re not getting into trouble for this today, but who knows how I’ll feel tomorrow.

But eventually, one day, it sank in.  We were having our umpteenth talk about it, and I mentioned my worry that he would read my e-mails and find them upsetting.  His brow furrowed and he asked me “Why would I waste my time doing that?  I trust you.”  And that’s when it hit me.  What trust is.  It’s not something you say to indicate that you’re willing to tolerate a behavior for the time being.  Tolerance has limits.  Trust is something else.  It’s more permanent.  It has to do with who we are at the deepest level of our relationship, not dependent on passing moods.

And the most unexpected part was how much I relaxed once I finally took in the fact that I was trusted.   I realized how exhausting it is to not be trusted, because I was constantly trying to prove my trustworthiness, just like when I used to live with my mother.  The pressure was terrible.

Now that I know he trusts me, I can finally relax.