When did I stop trusting others? I didn’t! On the surface it sure appears that way at times… but today… during my time of deep reflection I have uncovered the truth… I stopped trusting me!!!
This is not a new memory for me… but I had convinced myself that it was nothing at all. I was over it…everything was just fine. But in this journey of self discovery I am experiencing the value and healing that comes with acknowledging and challenging many of my beliefs that have developed as a result of some of my past experiences. I am exploring the stories I have told myself; reframing and challenging those beliefs that guide and mislead me in some of my current choices and decisions. Today as I explore a very old experience, one that I have convinced myself had no long term impact on my life, I have come to realize this is the moment in my life in which I stopped trusting ME.
When I was 8 years old, I was at the local mall Christmas shopping with my Nanny and my cousin (who was the same age as me). My Nanny was talking to my mom who was working at the store we were visiting. My cousin and I wandered off just a bit over by the escalators. A man approached offering to pay the both of us a dollar each if I helped him carry his six-pack of beer down the escalator. My cousin refused. She started to cry instantly and she begged me to come with her back to my Nanny. I decided I wanted the extra money for shopping so I agreed to help him. The man and I stepped onto the escalator, he placed the six-pack down on the step. I remember thinking it was odd that he would pay me when I was not really doing anything anyways; just standing there looking at it. At this point my cousin had already alerted my Nan of what was taking place and although I could not see her yet I could hear her screaming from across the hall. Then as she got to the top of the escalator she was yelling for me to run! So I listened, I ran up the escalator in the opposite direction of where we had been headed. When I got to the top and my Nanny grabbed a hold of me I saw the man get in the car that was parked at the bottom of the escalator by the doors. His car was right there, waiting, passenger door open, car running. In that moment I realized what had just about happened and instantly felt sick.
If we (my family) talked about this situation ever again I have no memory of it… I do remember weeks later, hiding around the corner listening to my Nanny and my mom talk of a little girl who went missing from that same mall just days after the man offered me the dollar.
This memory is not one that has been blocked out of my conscious mind in order to protect me… I remember it, always have. But truth is I have never discussed it with my family. The father of my two children knows of this story because when I gave birth to my first born, the fear of this all came to the surface… but our answer was for me to be extra cautions and protective of our girls. My recent partner knows of this story. I told him once quiet matter of fact… as if to say look how evolved I am to have no lingering effect from such a child hood experience.
But here I am today… still not sure exactly what to do with this memory… except to say, by revisiting this memory I have come to realizing that this is the moment in my life when I stopped trusting myself… And with this awareness I will work to heal this memory…