It is a general rule of mine to keep others at arm’s length. To erect my walls and let them down at a speed of zero miles an hour. We can sit here and analyze this all we want: my mom told me not to trust others, sour friendships and familial instances, emotional abuse, whatever. Maybe each blip of the aforementioned moments solidified my mistrust–the glue between the layers of my brick walls. Still, I am my own person, and although the ideas I have learned are firmly in place, I am my own person. My lack of trust should not come from the “trust lessons” others may or may not have have shown me.
I desired to keep this thought without analysis, but I digress, and I am a psychology major through and through. At the end, I believe my root is fear. The more I let others into me, my heart, my private thought process, my very being and crux of my soul little by little, there is fear. I’ve been pleasantly surprised in the past few years. Therefore the problem lies in me. Within me is an ugly ball of fear telling me I will drown even if I just wade in. Fear that keeps me from even learning how to swim (figuratively and literally).
And still. I find myself loving words pertaining to the idea of bravery. Brave. Courageous. Lionhearted. Dauntless. Sure. Gryffindor. Risk-taking. Change.
Both in my professional and personal life I can and do tell others to be these things, with hopes that others will be willing to take a step into freedom, believing I am these things too. Yet, the more I examine it, the more I find I am not brave. I am full of paralyzing fear that disallows me opportunities to let bravery shine.
All I want is to be brave without a second thought. To kick fear in the ass and never look back. This doesn’t mean I wouldn’t be afraid, it would just mean that finally…
…finally my stupid, strong walls will come crashing down once and for all. And, I will be brave.
And I will trust.