Ep. 360:  How I Learned to Trust Myself (and Why Boundaries Were the Missing Piece)

360 How I Learned to Trust Myself (And Why Boundaries Were the Missing Piece)

When I first got into recovery, one of the things I knew for certain was that I didn’t trust myself.

More specifically, I didn’t trust myself when it came to choosing boyfriends.

I used to say I had a “bad picker.” In fact, I later heard lots of people in recovery use that phrase. I imagined it was almost like there was a broken lever inside me. Everyone else had a functioning picker. Mine was defective.

But over time, I realized something.

The problem wasn’t just that I picked unhealthy partners.

The bigger problem was that I stayed.

I usually knew long before a relationship ended that it wasn’t healthy. I knew I wasn’t being treated well. I knew it wasn’t working. And yet I held on. As trait 12 in ACA says: will do anything to

hold on to a relationship in order not to experience painful abandonment feelings, 

That was a very different problem than having a bad picker.

As I’ve reflected on that over the years, I’ve realized something even more important.

The way I learned to trust myself wasn/t by trying to trust myself.

I learned to trust myself thru the boundary building process

And I don’t just mean saying no more often or standing up for myself. I mean the entire process of building healthy boundaries.

When I started recovery, I didn’t really know myself.

I didn’t know what was okay and not okay with me.

I didn’t know what I liked, wanted, needed, or preferred in many situations.

Sure, there were some things I knew. But there was also a whole lot of Barb that was up for negotiation

If someone else wanted something different, I usually assumed their preferences mattered more than mine.

I also didn’t know where I ended and other people began.

I didn’t know where my responsibilities ended and someone else’s responsibilities began.

So the first part of building boundaries wasn’t actually setting boundaries.

It was discovering myself.

It was paying attention.

What feels okay?

What doesn’t?

What do I actually want here?

What am I saying yes to when I really want to say no?

What matters to me?

That was the beginning.

Then came the harder part.

Acting on what I was discovering.

Setting limits with myself.

Setting limits with other people.

Following through on those limits.

Honoring my own preferences instead of constantly overriding them.

And here’s what I didn’t realize at the time.

Every single time I did that, I was collecting evidence.

Evidence that I would listen to myself.

Evidence that I would take myself seriously.

Evidence that I would show up for myself.

Trust grows through evidence.

You don’t wake up one morning and decide to trust yourself.

You build trust the same way you build trust in any healthy relationship.

Through consistent experience over time.

Every time I noticed what was true for me instead of ignoring it.

Every time I honored one of my limits.

Every time I followed through on something I’d committed to for myself

Every time I chose not to abandon myself just to keep someone else comfortable…

I was becoming someone I could rely on.

And eventually, I realized something had shifted.

I trusted myself.

Not because I had become perfect.

Not because I never made mistakes.

But because I knew I would pay attention.

I knew I would tell myself the truth.

I knew that even if I got something wrong, I would learn from it instead of abandoning myself.

That changed everything.

Something else surprised me too.

As I built trust with myself, I also became much better at trusting other people.

Before recovery, I used to say, “I trust people until they give me a reason not to.”

Looking back, that was bullshit.

I trusted people long after they had given me plenty of reasons not to.

I kept hoping they would become trustworthy.

I  think I believed that if I loved them enough, if I understood them enough, if I gave them one more chance, eventually things would be different.

And when they disappointed me again, I blamed them for violating my trust.

Today, I see my part much more clearly.

My mistake wasn’t trusting someone in the beginning.

There’s nothing wrong with extending trust.

My mistake was continuing to extend trust long after the evidence told me I needed to reconsider.

That was a boundary issue.

I didn’t quite understand yet that trust isn’t something we decide.

It’s something we discern.

Trust is a pattern of behavior.

And patterns can only be seen over time.

Someone isn’t trustworthy because they make a promise.

They’re trustworthy because, over time, their actions consistently match their words.

Because they follow through, take responsibility when they make mistakes and they repair the damage when they’ve caused harm.

Those things can’t be determined after one conversation.

They reveal themselves over time.

That’s why today I don’t rush trust.

And I don’t withhold it either.

I stay curious.

I pay attention.

I let people show me who they are. And I believe them

And when new information comes in, I adjust.

If someone turns out not to be trustworthy, I don’t beat myself up for trusting them.

And I don’t beat them up either.

As I often say, this is info, not ammo.

It’s not ammunition to beat myself up or beat the other person up. It’s information that helps me make wiser decisions moving forward.

I think one of the greatest gifts recovery has given me is understanding that boundaries aren’t just about protecting myself from other people.

They’re about becoming someone *I* can count on. [pause]

Every time I stay connected to myself instead of overriding myself… honor what’s true for me…

and follow through on a commitment I’ve made to myself…

I’m strengthening one of the most important relationships I’ll ever have.

The relationship with myself.

If you’ve been struggling to trust yourself, maybe the answer isn’t trying harder to believe in yourself.

Maybe the answer is much simpler.

Start paying attention to yourself.

Start honoring what you notice.

Start following through in small ways.

Every time you do, you’re giving yourself another reason to trust yourself.

Because self trust isn’t something you find or decide

It’s something you build.

One boundary at a time.