Betrayals. Little betrayals. Wedges. Things that make trust impossible.
At least for me.
Many of the betrayals I’ve experienced have been major. Things like being told I was nothing by the people who said they loved me. That I wasn’t worth knowing or loving. Things like abuse. Sexual. Physical. Emotional. Things like infidelity. Falling in love with another woman (or other women in general) and leaving me because I wasn’t them. Wasn’t as good as them. As beautiful as them. As amazing as them. As worthy as them.
As normal as them.
It has happened over and over again. In big ways. In small ways. Betrayal has been a frequent occurrence. A repetitive theme. A painful, repetitive theme. With people I thought were my friends. With people I believed to be soul mates. Partners. Parents. Friends.
Big betrayals. Small betrayals. Betrayals that added up. That made me wary. And closed. And broken.
Most recently, a person I have just recently come to trust in a fairly minimal way, a person I have come to feel closer to than anyone I’ve been close to in the last 20 years, betrayed me. Not in a huge way. But in a way that reminded me what a fool I am to trust. Anyone.
I thought she was a friend. Of sorts. But I’ve come to realize she is only a friend to my face. Behind my back, she talks about me in less than glowing terms. She questions my worth. Behind my back, she is disappointed in me. And she doesn’t believe I have value. Not really.
She is very determined that I will pay my way. In everything. In every way.
Which I’m trying to do. But I can never pay enough. I can’t buy my way to acceptance. I can never be good enough.
She is careful when she is with me. She is careful about what she says to my face. It is others who tell me of her doubt. It is others who let me know she has been talking about me and that the things she has been saying are not positive. That the things she has been saying are actually very negative, rejecting and cutting. That she is disgusted with me. That she doesn’t feel I’m worthy.
Of love. Of acceptance. Of being valued. Of knowing.
As betrayals go, hers are small. But I was enjoying her. Her company. A small connection. The only connection I’ve forged in the last 20 years. And now…now I must once again guard my heart. Hide behind walls. Because she is not really the friend she pretends to be. She doesn’t really like me. Or accept me. Or value me.
I want to trust. I want to be able to relax and know that despite my imperfections, I’m still a person who is worth knowing. Worth spending time with. Or maybe even liking. But that is not reality.
That is not my reality. Not even close.
What is reality? Reality is…I’m not normal. I’m not worth knowing. I’m not worth spending time with. I’m not. Not. Worth. Anything. And reality? Reality is that I can’t trust. Anyone.
I’ve got to keep my guard up.
I’ve got to keep the walls high. Intact. Strong.
I’ve got to stay disconnected. From everyone.
Behind my back, she says I’m not doing what I should be doing. Not fulfilling my obligations. Not doing the right things.
She’s probably right.
I’m a failure. I’m so imperfect, it’s painful. Disgusting. I try. I try very, very hard. But…
I thought she cared about me in spite of my obvious imperfections. Those glaring, horrible imperfections. I thought she accepted me. But I was wrong.
I’ve been judged and found lacking. Again.
Judged and found worthless. Again.
I shouldn’t have let my guard down. Not even a little bit. I should have know better. But I wanted to believe she was my friend.
I wanted to believe. I wanted to trust. I wanted to believe someone could like me for who I was, in spite of all my deficiencies.
I was wrong. To trust. Again.
I knew better. I should have known. Better. When you’re worthless, you will never be wanted or accepted. You will never be valued. Or cared for.
I opened my heart a crack.