I was a young girl who thought trust was natural, like breathing. To me, it was simple you trust your guardian, because they’re meant to protect you. That’s what the word meant in my little world: safety, comfort, someone who would never let harm come close. So I trusted. I trusted with the blind faith of a child. I gave away my secrets, my laughter, my tears, believing they were safe in hands bigger than mine. But one day, everything shifted. The hands I thought would hold me became the same ones that left scars. The hands that were supposed to shelter me turned into a prison I didn’t understand, and my heart learned too early that not everyone who promises to guard you truly means it. From that day, trust was no longer easy. I grew cautious. I built walls around my heart. I smiled on the outside, but inside I carried questions that no child should have to ask: Who can I believe? Who won’t hurt me? Who will actually stay? Yet, as much as betrayal tried to break me, it didn’t destroy me. Because even in my pain, I found something stronger....me. I learned that trust doesn’t start with others. It starts within. It starts with learning to trust my own voice, my own strength, my own worth. And maybe that’s what I want you to take from my story: yes, trust can hurt. Yes, it can shatter. But it can also rebuild. Slowly, carefully, piece by piece. So if you’ve been broken like me, don’t close your heart forever. Protect it, yes. But don’t bury it. Because somewhere ahead, there will be people who prove that trust isn’t a weakness it's a kind of courage. And courage, my dear reader, is what keeps us alive. 🌹