Ever notice how you automatically tense up when someone says “we need to talk”? Or how you find yourself triple-checking that your friend really meant it when they said they’d help you move?
I used to think I was just naturally cautious. But after years of gentle parenting my two little ones and doing some serious inner work, I’ve realized something profound: my trust issues weren’t born in adulthood. They started way back when I was small, learning what relationships meant from the adults around me.
Growing up, our family dinners happened like clockwork. Every night at six, we’d gather around the table, pass the potatoes, and talk about… nothing real. How was school? Fine. How was work? Busy. The emotional distance at that table taught me that even people who love you keep their real selves hidden.
If you struggle with trusting others, you’re not broken. You’re probably carrying childhood experiences that wired your brain for protection rather than connection. And understanding these patterns? That’s the first step toward healing them.
1. Having your feelings constantly invalidated
Remember being told you were “too sensitive” or “making a big deal out of nothing”? When the adults in our lives dismissed our emotions, we learned a devastating lesson: our inner experience doesn’t matter to the people who should care most.
This creates a special kind of trust issue. You start doubting your own feelings before you even consider sharing them with others. Why would you trust someone with your vulnerability when you learned early on that vulnerability gets you dismissed or mocked?
I catch myself doing this sometimes with my kids, and I have to pause. When my daughter comes to me upset about something that seems trivial, I remind myself that her feelings are real to her. Because teaching her that her emotions matter is teaching her that she matters.
2. Experiencing broken promises repeatedly
“We’ll go to the park this weekend.” “I’ll be at your school play.” “Tomorrow we’ll have that talk.”
Small promises that never materialized. Each broken commitment taught us that words don’t mean much, that people say things they don’t mean, that hope leads to disappointment.
As adults, we become the ones who need everything in writing, who assume plans will fall through, who protect ourselves by never fully believing what others promise. We learned that disappointment hurts less when you expect it.
3. Being punished for telling the truth
This one cuts deep. You tell the truth about breaking something, and you get punished harder than if you’d lied. You share how you really feel, and suddenly you’re “talking back” or “being disrespectful.”
What does a child learn from this? That honesty is dangerous. That keeping secrets keeps you safe. That the truth creates problems while lies maintain peace.
Now as adults, we struggle to believe others are being honest with us because we learned that truth-telling comes with consequences. We assume everyone else is managing their image just like we learned to do.
4. Living with inconsistent caregivers
Was your parent loving one moment and cold the next? Did their mood dictate the entire household’s emotional weather?
Psychologists call this “intermittent reinforcement,” and it’s one of the most powerful ways to create anxiety and mistrust. You never knew which version of your caregiver you’d get, so you learned to constantly scan for danger signs, to walk on eggshells, to never fully relax.
Today, this shows up as hypervigilance in relationships. You’re always waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the mood to shift, for the person you trust to suddenly become someone you don’t recognize.
5. Having your boundaries repeatedly violated
Maybe it was a parent who read your diary. An adult who forced physical affection when you didn’t want it. Family members who shared your secrets as dinner conversation.
Every boundary violation taught you that your personal space, your body, your private thoughts weren’t really yours. That others had the right to access any part of you they wanted.
How can you trust others to respect your boundaries when you learned early that boundaries are just suggestions? You either build walls so high no one can climb them, or you struggle to set any boundaries at all because what’s the point?
6. Witnessing betrayal between adults you trusted
Children are always watching, always learning. When we see the adults we depend on betraying each other’s trust, lying, cheating, or manipulating, we absorb those patterns as normal.
Maybe you watched your parents lie to each other. Maybe you saw family members gossiping viciously about people they’d just hugged goodbye. Maybe promises between adults were broken as easily as they were made.
These observations taught you that even people who claim to love each other can’t be trusted. That everyone has ulterior motives. That betrayal is just part of how relationships work.
7. Being forced to keep family secrets
“Don’t tell anyone about this.” “What happens in this house stays in this house.” “If anyone asks, everything is fine.”
Family secrets create a special kind of damage. They teach children that appearances matter more than truth, that some things are too shameful to share, that you can’t trust outsiders with your reality.
As adults, this manifests as difficulty being authentic. How can you trust others with your true self when you learned that your true family story was something to hide? You learned to perform “normal” rather than be yourself.
Moving forward with compassion
Recognizing these patterns in my own life has been both painful and liberating. I see how my father’s emotional distance and our family’s surface-level connections shaped my tendency to people-please and seek perfection. I understand why trust feels like such a monumental risk.
But here’s what I’ve learned through parenting my own children: we can break these cycles. Every time I validate my daughter’s feelings, every time I keep a promise to my son, every time I create safety for their truth-telling, I’m not just parenting them. I’m reparenting myself.
Healing doesn’t mean you’ll suddenly trust everyone. It means understanding why trust is hard for you, having compassion for that younger version of yourself who learned to protect their heart, and slowly, carefully, learning to discern who deserves your trust today.
Some days are harder than others. Sometimes I catch myself falling into old patterns, building walls where I could build bridges. But awareness is powerful. Once you see the patterns, you can’t unsee them. And once you understand where they came from, you can choose whether to keep them.
Your trust issues make sense. They kept you safe once. But maybe, just maybe, you’re ready to try something different now.
