half-baked doesn’t hold

Is Trust the Quiet Erosion of Love?

There’s something exhausting about constantly having to prove your innocence to someone you care about.

To be questioned not because you’ve given reason, but because they’re battling ghosts you didn’t invite.

And the worst part? You start to doubt yourself. You start editing your joy. Overthinking your friendliness. Muting parts of your personality just to avoid the next round of “who is that?” or “why did you say that?”

Trust ..real trust..isn’t a passive emotion. It’s a choice. A muscle. A decision to believe in someone even when your mind tries to run ahead.

It’s 2am and I’m lying in bed,holding my phone to my chest like it can give me answers. The fan is humming, my thoughts are louder, and sleep? Nowhere in sight.

You ever just find yourself exhausted from trying to prove you're not guilty of something you didn’t even do?

And it’s not just about love. It's friendships too. These days, I’m realising how fragile trust can be, and how easy it is to start second-guessing yourself when someone doesn’t believe in the version of you that you’re giving them honestly.

I’m trying so hard to understand why is it that when someone doesn’t trust you, it becomes your own burden to carry? Over explaining, walking on eggshells like you’ve committed a crime.

Why does love become a courtroom and every friendship an investigation?

I’ve been in situations where I feel like no matter how open I am, it’s not enough. I post someone on my story and it turns to questions. I follow a new person — “who be that one?” I laugh under someone’s comment suddenly I’m flirting?

So is just existing a problem now?.

I don’t know who needs to hear this, but trust is not “checking in” every second. It’s not policing, it’s not guilt-tripping, and it’s definitely not making someone feel like their natural self is a little too free.

It’s exhausting.

Tired of being told I’m “too friendly.” Tired of people calling it love when it’s really control.

Who doesn’t want soft love? Peaceful friendships. The type where saying, “you have nothing to worry about,” you actually believe me.

Not one where I have to shrink. Or over-explain. Or delete harmless things just to “avoid problems .”

Because truth be told when there’s no trust even silence becomes suspicious.

So if you ever find yourself constantly asking, “How else should I reassure this person?” maybe the real question should be: “Why don’t they feel safe enough to believe me?”

Love is supposed to make you feel known, not watched. Friendship is supposed to feel like an exhale, not an interrogation.

Friendships and relationships built on constant surveillance aren’t really relationships,they’re quiet wars waiting for a spark to be handed over to them. And someone always ends up bleeding, even if no one is shouting.

There’s a cost to mistrust. It chips away at connection in tiny, invisible ways. The moments you could’ve laughed freely. The touches you hold back.

All because someone’s love is more suspicious than it is safe.

And it hurts deeply when the people who say they love you don’t trust the very essence of you. Your freedom. Your curiosity. Your boundaries.

So no, I don’t want anything halfbaked. Not in love. Not in friendship. Not in loyalty.

Because half-trust leads to a loneliness.

And I want to be chosen, not checked.

Known, not monitored.

Held, not cornered.

If you love me, believe me.