How Do You Trust Yourself When You Have Been So Wrong?

I’ve had a rough couple of weeks, and I finally figured out why it’s been so hard.

I’ve been struggling over letting go of the man I was seeing. (I think this blog will be the last time I write about him. I think this will close the chapter.)

I didn’t want to let him go. I wanted to be in his life. The hard truth was, he didn’t want me there. I decided, okay, I don’t want to fucking do it, but I have to move on. So I downloaded the dating apps and put up the profiles. 

On Tinder (ugh) I looked at my Top Picks, thinking maybe the algorithms would show me someone really cool…and who did I see? The man I just ended things with. My Top Pick. I looked at his profile, because of course I did. He was looking for someone who practices mindfulness, who likes travel, who can be silly, who wants connection.

I sat back and thought “But that’s me. He wants me.” The truth is, though, he doesn’t.

And then the app glitched and his picture appeared three times in my Top Picks. I couldn’t stop seeing him. So I deleted the app. Fuck that app. 

I spoke to him this week and it was so great to hear his voice, especially because there were some things happening in my life with parenting that I really wanted his insight on. He was kind enough to talk to me. I left the conversation hearing about all the things he’s doing, and how full his life is, and I remembered his profile and that he might want someone who is just like me, but who isn’t actually me. It was gutting.

***

And then there’s the other thing that happened. 

I’d turned in my new novel to an agent I had really high hopes for. It took just a few days to get the email that said “I can’t sell it in this form. If you re-write it, I’ll take another look.” The thing is, I had re-written it. The book is where I want it. And it was still rejected. 

It felt personal. It felt like I was rejected.

And I don’t know what is wrong with the novel, because I thought, I trusted, I felt, that it was good. 

***

It took a little soul searching and some really long walks and talking to my dear friend, and I finally figured out why I was struggling and so hurt with the rejection from this man and the rejection from this agent. It’s kinda about both of these things, but the struggle I’m having is also about something bigger. 

In my deep and tender heart, I had thought the man I was seeing would become my person. Not right away, but over time. We clicked that well. I saw a future with him. I saw travel, and late nights and early mornings in bed, I saw breakfast at a dive, and him accompanying me to a gala in New York. I saw us getting to know each other’s kids and sharing holidays and all of that. I thought he could be my person. And I was wrong.

 In the same way, I thought my book was done. That this was the agent. That my never-ending search to find one person who would believe in my creative work had finally ended. They’d read the book, represent me, and then the wild adventure of book writing and selling could start. I felt it in my bones that it would happen. And I was wrong.

So in my love life and my creative life, I felt two things very strongly, I believed them, and I was wrong. And the reason why I’m struggling so hard with this is that because I was so wrong, I feel like I can’t trust myself anymore. I can’t trust my gut, my feelings, my thoughts. I saw the world in a certain way, but it wasn’t the real way.

That’s what hurts so badly. And that is what is so deeply embarrassing.  

I feel foolish because I believed that the future I wanted, the future I’d dreamed about, had arrived. 

Here is the struggle then:

How do you trust yourself when you’ve been so wrong? How do you trust that the future you believed in is still possible?

For me, this means how do I open my heart to meeting and dating a man who will love me and want to be with me if my ability to detect a genuine connection is wrong?

How do I keep trying to send my work out there to find an agent if I firmly believe the work I’m doing is good, and I’m wrong?

Fuck.

Really. Fuuuuuuuuccccckkkk.

***

I went for a walk/run this morning. It was 6am and the world was dark. I passed sprinklers sputtering in the quiet. Houses were in shadows. A street light flickered above me and I thought for a moment it was lightening flashing.

I ran.

It hurt.

My legs hurt. My brain hurt. My soul hurt.

I listened to music and the pounding of my feet and I asked myself “How do I trust myself again?”

Eventually, things started to brighten. The world started to wake up. The dark sky faded from black to purple to blue, to streaks of pink.

My body thrummed with the run and with thoughts. I heard a little answer that said:

“How do you trust yourself?

It doesn’t matter. You just keep going,

whether you trust yourself or not.

You keep going because you have to,

and it’s the right thing to do.

You keep going because you must.”

That wasn’t the answer I wanted or was looking for, but it’s the answer I got. 

You keep going because you must. 

***

I feel a little bit like I’m whining right now, but I’m really trying not to. I think there’s a lesson in here for me, and maybe it’s something you can relate to. We all fuck up. We misinterpret. We make mistakes. We have setbacks. We get sad. We get hurt.

But it’s not forever. It’s just for now.

***

I’m a little lost right now, and that’s okay.

I don’t know what my heart wants or what my heart trusts. And that’s okay.

I don’t know if anyone will ever want to pick up this book and represent me. And that’s okay.

I don’t know everything. In fact, I feel like I don’t know anything right now, and that’s okay too.

Maybe there are times in life where you don’t need to trust, or know, or control. Maybe there are times where you just DO.  You just keep doing. You just keep going.  

So. 

Okay. 

I’ll keep doing. I’ll keep going. I’ll continue running in the morning (three times a week). I’ll put my profile back up and I’ll start dating. I’ll send out three agent queries next week, and then I’ll send out more the following week. I’ll try to be a better person. A more connected and rooted person. I’ll remain open to the idea that the book I’ve written can be even better than I imagined.

I’ll keep trying.

I’ll let the muscle memory of trust carry me, and maybe, for now, that’s enough. 

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ABOUT TANYA EBY

Tanya Eby is an award winning narrator who likes to write, cook, grow oyster mushrooms, go for walks, and do paint-by-numbers. She really really really wants to go on a trip somewhere.

She is also an expert napper.