The day someone loses trust in a person, institution or oneself is the saddest day of all.
Throughout our lifetime, we will come to trust a large number of people for any different situation. We trust our doctor to keep us healthy. We trust our bank to keep our money safe. We trust the barista to wash his/her hands prior to work. We trust our friends with secrets. We trust in many things, but when the trust is broken, it is hard to ever restore it.
Sometimes it’s easy to put your trust in a person. A doctor knows more about medicine, so you entrust the doctor with your wellbeing. Whether it’s from one’s upbringing or credientials, institutions are often seen as trustworthy; take banks and the Catholic Church for example. However, not all bonds of trust are easily formed. Friendships and relationships take time to create a bond where both sides give and take, thus securing a certain closeness that will evolve into a trust. Then again, as easy and difficult the bonds of trust form, it can also be unfastened in the same manner.
Growing up, I learned that trust does not exist. From within my family, I grew up with the lack of privacy or belief that anyone but my mother is a good person. It was from my upbringing that I came to believe that trust is just a word. A word with no meaning or truth, but just word with the footnote of trust will always be broken. And yet, growing up I would like to discredit that thought, but the word was only being reaffirmed. My doctor broke my trust and shared my medical information. A priest broke the seal of confession. Add on a nun and a deacon, I am surprised why I am still Catholic. But what hurts the most, is when a friend breaks the bond of trust.
I live pretty public life. Looking at my blog, my videos on YouTube, my photos on Flickr and my Facebook profile, one can easily learn a lot about me. However, there are things about me that many do not know nor do I publically share. Call them what you like: secrets, skeletons, extra baggage, dirty underwear; these are the things about my private self to which only a few privilege people, who I whole heartily trust, will ever know. And yet, the act of trust is often replaced by the word trust.
I honestly do believe that trust is not a word. However, as often as my trust is broken, I must ask myself, “At what point do I just stop trusting and believing that trust exist?”