The Quiet Negotiations of Trust
The hidden negotiations behind showing up, saying no, and choosing quiet.
Lately, I’ve noticed that a question guides my decisions: “Is this safe or not?” Many things measure safety: will it cause me physical harm or mental harm, how much energy will be expended, how comfortable or uncomfortable will I feel, and what is the risk involved? I do not lead with, “Am I safe,” as is typical for the Enneagram 6. But that is a leading factor in how I make many decisions lately.
My Enneagram 9, “Do I matter?” coupled with the tension of the 6’s, “Am I safe?” This is how it played out the week I am writing this. I took the week off to coincide with my son’s Spring Break. We had some appointments scheduled, like dental appointments, and I volunteered for a Lobby Day with one of my favorite non-profits. Later in the week, I had plans to spend time with some girlfriends.
On the day of Lobby Day, I had planned to leave by 8:30am to arrive before things started. However, I couldn't bring myself to get dressed until about 8:40am. The inner dialogue, pushing and pulling between “I would rather be home” and “I said I would go,” yo-yoed me to a freezing spot on my couch while I sipped coffee and took my vitamins. I had managed to make breakfast, but I didn’t even eat it that day. I even had a text ready to go, announcing with my pre-made excuse that I couldn’t go.
Ultimately, I deleted the text and left. However, I had several concerns: will I get sleepy on the drive there? What will traffic be like? How many annoying drivers on their morning commute will I have to deal with? How much walking will we do? How much energy will I expend? Will they have food that suits me, or will I need to find something else? What will the drive home be like? How much traffic will I encounter? There are at least three bottlenecks I’ll need to consider. How much extra time will be added to the commute home? I have an evening event. Will I make it home in time to rest a bit before that event? I want the kid to go. What kind of negotiation will I need to do when I get home to ensure the kid attends the evening event?
Introversion? Anxiety? Trust?
Later that same week, I had an invite to join some lovely girlfriends for a facial and hot tub afternoon. And we chose Sunday afternoon. I prefer to keep Sunday afternoon quiet, with no obligations to “prepare for Monday,” even if I don’t do any prep. Our plans changed, and the thing I knew and predicted became a thing I didn’t know and didn’t predict. Even though my friends are dear, there was something about the situation I didn’t trust, and it made it feel unsafe, which triggered my anxiety, and I chose not to go, nearly at the last minute. My friends were gracious. But while I was glad for the quiet, I still felt guilty for not going.
Some of those same girlfriends and I gather every Monday for art. That’s all we do: make art for an hour. Immediately following “spa day,” we discussed systems and our world and landed on the connections between safety and trust. We discussed how crucial it is to have trust to feel safe. While talking about communities and system change, it applies to the week I had, too.
While I still feel guilty, I’m learning that honoring my need for safety and quiet is an act of trust, too.
I will leave you with this thought: If trust is essential for safety — and safety is essential for showing up — how do we build more trust in ourselves, our communities, and our systems? What does that look like in everyday choices?