Never trust anyone!

Teaching him a lesson

There’s a story about a father who told his son to climb up to a high platform and jump down. The son was scared. “Trust me” the father said,” You’ll be fine – its quite safe”.  Reassured, the son climbed up and jumped down, only to hurt himself rather badly. As he painfully picked himself his father shouted at him, “That will teach you, never trust anyone!”

What this cruel and thoughtless father taught his son in a moment, those of us who went to boarding school learnt over time. If we were to survive and not be hurt again and again we had to think very carefully before trusting. Better not to trust anyone at all, not even yourself.

Don’t show how you feel

Especially yourself. Showing who you really were, how you really felt was dangerous. You didn’t want to become known as a cry-baby, a blubberer. Even worse to show your anger, your rage. You would need to be disciplined. Shown that displays of anger, rebellion against the institution was unacceptable and had to be nipped in the bud.

So, we learnt to keep our heads down, take on a stoical demeanour. Keep your homesickness, your distress, your grief to yourself. There’s no safe place – toilets can’t be locked; you are never alone in the dorm at night. Talk about it to another pupil and very soon there will be sniggers whenever you pass by. There’s absolutely no one you can trust. You’re on your own. It’s a game of one.

Trusting Mum and Dad

 When we were little – before we went to boarding school, we trusted mum and dad. Someone was there for us if we were upset or had fallen and hurt ourselves. But then they sent us to boarding school. Maybe we had been prepared for it – in a way. Those Harry Potter stories. The big brother or uncle who told us about pillow fights, midnight feasts and loads of friends. Only it didn’t turn out like that. At least for us. The weak ones, that is. What mum and dad told us was a lie. What else will they promise that won’t end up as they said?

Later, as adults we distrust the feelings we have about boarding school. Was it really that bad? Others seemed to have thought it was a blast. Is there something wrong with me? Am I holding on to a few negative memories and forgetting how privileged I was to get a good education. Shouldn’t I be more grateful? I’m too ashamed to tell anyone about my feelings. Better to keep them under wraps.

Maybe someone close to me suggests I go for therapy. They want me “fixed”. They sense the deep sense of shame, grief and anger inside me. But can I trust a therapist? Is therapy a safe place to talk about the real me? I’ve learnt not to trust anyone – opening the door even just a fraction is going to be so difficult for me.

Trust as a gradual process

Trust in therapy can take time, and it makes sense if it feels risky for you. When you’ve lived through experiences where your feelings weren’t heard, or where you had to protect yourself by hiding what was vulnerable, opening up to someone—especially a therapist—can feel uncertain. My role isn’t to push you into trust, but to offer a space that feels consistently safe, steady, and respectful, so you can decide at your own pace whether this relationship is one where you can be fully yourself. It’s completely okay if you question your own story or wonder how I might respond; those doubts are part of the process. Together, we can notice what feels comfortable and what feels difficult, and take things slowly. The aim is for this space to become one where your emotions, boundaries, and experiences are met with care, where you don’t have to hide parts of yourself, and where trust—if it grows—does so naturally and on your terms.