I used to place my heart in everyone’s hands without any inkling. I never had my guard up. I wasn’t one to build walls around me. I let all people enter my life because I believed that everyone’s intent was pure and clean. I refused to think that other people had ulterior motive behind their actions.
I looked at my trusting heart as my strength. I thought that if I spoke honesty one hundred percent of the time, people would feel comfortable with me. I thought that if I laugh loudly and talk freely, openly, the way that I normally did, people would consider me as someone they’d want to hang out with.
I thought that if I love without restriction, without holding back, without being guarded, I would receive the love that I was giving.
But I was heartbroken to find out that’s not how life works for other people. I was honestly crushed when I experienced my first major betrayal from people whom I considered trustworthy. It was so unfair that every time I was showing my true self, somebody else was using every information they learned about me for their advantage.
I’ve gotten told to loosen up once in a while. I’ve had few people come knocking at my door, asking me if they can come see the inside of me. And I wish saying yes is as easy as it used to be before. I wish showing people my vulnerability still feels normal.
But I can’t. I just can’t.
Because the trauma that I’ve had from trusting too much is still fresh in my mind. The pain that I’ve harbored from people that I trusted with all my heart discourages me to open myself entirely.
I hope it’s easier for people to understand why I never smile so much during my first encounter with them. I hope people know the reason why I’m hard to read sometimes. I hope people get it when I’m quiet, when I barely say a word, when I never participate in an open discussion.
I hope they realize that I am just scared to share a piece of me.
I am scared to be taken advantage of because I talk a lot. I hate giving people the impression that I’m gullible because of the way I express myself. I don’t like it when people make assumptions and conclusions about me based only on their tiny observations.
It’s so disappointing that my trust issues stem from the fact that people think they know everything about me when they clearly don’t.
Nobody knows my exact ideas and plans. Nobody knows what I want for the future and where I want to be. And what I say all the time is only the tip of the iceberg. There are deeper meanings to the words that come out of my mouth. There are still uncertainties when I say yes or when I say no.
There’s a possibility for me to politely ask you to go away when you take me for granted. There’s a possibility for me to shut my doors slowly, silently in front of your face, when I sense something shady by the way you communicate with me.
I have developed the ability to detect lies and the ability to easily know when something is wrong. But I’m still not yet fully convinced if it’s more of an asset than a liability. I’m not sure if I want to embrace the constant thinking and constant analyzing. I don’t know how to stop reading between the lines.
I don’t know how to stop reading people.
But somehow I’m learning not to always be on red alert. I’m decreasing my self-control whenever I talk to people who seem harmless to me. I’m allowing myself not to be conscious with the words that I say, and with the way I move my body.
I admit that it’s not easy for me to lower my guard down, even for a little. But I’m slowly trying to let myself open up again, until I meet the right people in my life who are going to bring back my faith in trust.