Mistrust is a gift, both to oneself and to others.

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Mistrust is a gift, both to oneself and to others.

In the previous post, I shared a story of a motorist whose car broke down in a snowstorm in rural Montana. After a long walk along a lonely road, he finally arrived at a ranch. Walking up to the door, he pounded and shouted, “Never mind, I don’t want your help!”

He wasn’t wrong. While many people may see his attitude and behavior as irrational and harmful, it can be validating and supportive to see it as functional and necessary.

If the motorist had let his guard down, he would have exposed his pain from a lifetime of rejection. If he had no prior experience of being met with accurate empathy and care for his protective stance, and the pain beneath it, revealing his pain would be intensely vulnerable.

Few people on the unexpected receiving end of raw pain and fear would respond with genuine understanding and attunement. For the motorist, it is better to feel misunderstood and rejected for pushing the rancher away than for inviting him to care for his pain. It’s better for the rancher, too, to experience the motorist’s angry mistrust than his more genuine rage if the rancher had been offered but was unable to respond sensitively to his pain.

What if the rancher understood the motorist’s pounding and shouting and didn’t mind because he didn’t take the attack personally? Suppose, as a wise witness, he responded accurately and compassionately:

“Hey, I’m so sorry that people in your past were so uncaring. I get that, buddy, it’s a tough world out there! Come on in, you’re welcome here.”

If, incredibly, the rancher was so kindly understanding, it would not be so easy for them. Such a response would likely elicit confusion, disorganization, and more mistrust. When a door opens, saying, “It’s safe to be seen and cared for now,” often, the person opening the door doesn’t appreciate what they are inviting.

Are they ready for all the pain and terror behind the protective strategy?
For the rage inside the receiver, that asks, “Where have you been all my life, when I’ve needed you?”

It’s helpful for givers and receivers of care to anticipate and appreciate various mistrustful responses, such as increased anger, confusion, and dismissal, likely to arise in the presence of unexpectedly compassionate care.

Facilitating healing and transformation often requires a strong and secure enough container to welcome and hold powerful reactions of mistrust.

Of course, to give this level of care to others, we must first receive it for ourselves.
We need surprising experiences of being seen and appreciated. We need to be able to rant and dismiss and see others as incapable and uncaring, then continue to receive hospitality and understanding.