This Is Why I Suck at Trusting Life

"As you learn to TRUST YOURSELF, something miraculous happens. You begin to TRUST THE PROCESS you are living, and the miracles life brings!” — Iyanla Vanzant

In the darkness of the night, as I look up at the ceiling at the gliding shadows created by the passing car headlamps, hopelessness grips my mind. I'm around the age of ten or so, yet I feel the pure, tangible bleakness of my faraway future flashing before me. My already short, unhappy life has built my expectations of what my life will entail.

The following day, on my way home from school, I open up about my previous evening's trepidation to the bright yellow, clad Lollipop Lady, as she stops the traffic to allow me to safely cross the road. With her deadpan face, she says nothing, with only a look of puzzlement that amounts to: "What the hell is wrong with this kid!"

I feel stupid and ignored.

It's only more recently, in my midlife, that I've grasped how much trust is a pivotal component of life, and the foundation to a sense of joy and fearlessness.

A couple of years ago, my pro bono Life Coach said to me, “You’re going to have to trust the process, Chantal”, and my ears pricked up. Was this some sort of natural law that was sure to follow me if I kept plugging at the steps of trying to trust life? Nonetheless, my spark of interest didn’t last long, as I placed trust back in the box of unexamined thoughts.

This was until an event that happened not long ago, my partner being away, having travelled 260 miles west to attend a fellow veteran’s funeral. Suspicion washed over me over a stupid misunderstanding with him being away. Thinking over how ridiculous it all was made me unpack why I had felt such mistrust and anxiety that’s driven by my default.

Why am I so distrustful?

I took a moment to consider how specific the lack of trust has affected my life and how I got to be like this. The memory of me as a child, looking up at the ceiling, was perhaps the key to my growing up not ever truly trusting my inconsistent parents and therefore, my world.

And even now, I still lie in bed, when trying to fall asleep, (or back to sleep), I anxiously reflect on the atrocities of the world, how safe my adult daughter is, whether she’s on her way home in the middle of the night from work or when she's travelling; even her future, my future, what's going to happen. The list is unceasing. And my prayers are forever increasing.

My lack of trust not only affects how safe I feel in the world and in the life of my daughter or with my partner, but it also infiltrates my new career. Will I ever be a good enough writer? My words get so mixed up in my head that it’s all too scrambled, and so how will I ever portray my message or reach people? Can I ever be successful?

And by successful, I don’t necessarily mean famous. To me, it simply means creating a healthy income — enough to give me choices: a home, a car, travelling, new adventures — options. Oh, the beauty of options and choices would feel so lush.

Looking back on when I was a child, I realise my parents struggled to provide emotional stability. Trust is a fragile element as a very new human being, and so when it’s broken, it will inevitably affect a child’s development and change the trajectory of their adulthood.

The inconsistency of my father coming and going, us being fostered at times, and the unpredictability and clashes of my parents, from being highly critical to supportive. There was an abyss of emotional neglect. These factors leave children feeling abandoned, unseen, unheard, and unvalued.

My father regularly broke his promises, and even at times, his commitments to being a father to my twin and me. He constantly lied, for which I would often witness his dishonesty and lack of integrity. My mother filled us with guilt as she emotionally manipulated us, eventually driving us all away.

I ache to now find a deeper sense of self-connection; there must be a way to excavate the lack of trust’s corrupt power.

If it all starts with childhood, where we instinctively yearn to feel safe, and we’re not because of circumstances, then it’s no surprise we grow up with frayed and insecure emotional stability.

Fortunately, we have the chance and ability to teach ourselves self-love and trust; we have the choice to reverse these feelings of mistrust that are behind so many guises throughout our daily lives.

I understand it grapples with many people’s sense of self. The world is unpredictable, and nothing can ever be certain or indefinite. Nonetheless, to live with constant fear and anxiety isn’t fun once you’ve done it year after year. It becomes Groundhog Day, as the years turn into decades, and you wonder what the hell happened to you.

I am in no way an AI or technological kind of person; however, I recently tried out the ChatGPT app to help me with my KDP journal bios. I asked it: ‘Can I learn to trust?’

It replied that building self-trust is fundamental, and may be the way through (not in these exact words). All the times I have told myself I will give up or change a habit ‘tomorrow’. What if I kept these promises — would that count? If I set goals or commitments and adhere to them, will that reinforce my reliability and ability to start to trust?

Learning to trust situations can leave us feeling vulnerable, and it can at times, feel like we’re taking risks. Whether an intimate relationship, a work commitment, or even a friendship, they all need a level of trust.

I’m learning to trust my ability to be an authentic writer, no longer beating myself up or comparing. I am unique, and I am getting my head around the concept of trusting that journey. I understand the importance of allowing a craft to be fine-tuned over a far longer duration of time than I had anticipated at the very start of my freelance journalism diploma. I am okay with this — it’s coming. I’m getting my head around the concept of the adage: trusting the process.

What are your thoughts on trusting life?

© Chantal Weiss 2025. All Rights Reserved