Have you experienced a betrayal of trust? If so, did it affect your ability to trust again?
I think this is something most people have experienced, to a lesser or greater degree. I felt betrayed when I used to have high expectations of others, including family and friends and they wouldn’t come up to the high standards I held up them to.
At that time I found that it wasn’t easy to trust people like before. But with age and life experience, I’ve toned down my expectations of others and have come to understand that it’s very rare that others would give you the same consideration that they give themselves. So now I do trust people, but never implicitly!
Do you consider yourselves a trustworthy friend? Have you ever betrayed the trust of another even if they never knew? Would others see you as trustworthy?
Like other human beings, I too am fallible. I do try to protect the confidence of others to the best of my abilities, try to be a sincere friend to them, and give them my support when they need me. And I think that my friends see me as trustworthy. If I’ve unwittingly betrayed anyone’s trust, I don’t remember them calling me out on this. But I am a babble mouth and sometimes I do say too much! TMI!
How do you recover and allow yourself to trust and be vulnerable again?
I’d only trust to a certain extent and not more. It’s not smart to be vulnerable to others when they’ve betrayed your trust once. It’s best to keep your inner feelings to yourself or to share them with someone who shares them, like my husband.
This quote reflects my feelings 100%. I too think that being honorable, kind, and helpful are the goals that we should strive for in life. Living to be the person that others admire and look up to would make not only our lives fulfilling but also make us a person who inspires others.
Today, let’s explore memory! Write a haibun that alludes to memory, any way you construe it.
I’ve written about my late mother in my posts recently. She passed away when I was just two months short of my sixth birthday. In the naivety of a child in the 1960’s I had no idea what death was. When I was told the news I asked my dad, when will she be coming back?
The tragedy of loss at a young age is that you don’t get to mourn that loss at one time. I mourned her at every stage of my growing up. I have vague memories of her dressing up to go out in the evening with my dad, wearing a white sari and silver earrings.
Her image dreamlike
The figure lit by shadows
Her perfume lingered
I wish I remembered her
She slips from my mind
I hope I’ve done this right. I’ve challenged myself to try different poetic challenges hence this attempt.
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