The Trust Muscle

Photo by Ronda Dorsey on Unsplash

Dear Lovely Reader

I’ve been thinking a lot about trust lately. Not the kind we place in other people, but the quiet, often overlooked relationship we have with ourselves. The way we second-guess. The way we hesitate. The way we look outward for answers, almost by default, as if someone else must surely know better than we do.

And it’s so understandable, isn’t it? We live in a world that is constantly offering opinions, guidance, noise. There is always something to read, to watch, to listen to. Always another perspective to take on. And somewhere along the way, without even realising it, we begin to outsource our own knowing. We begin to doubt the very voice that has been with us all along.

The trust muscle weakens quietly like that. Not all at once, but over time.

What I keep coming back to is this… trusting yourself doesn’t need to be complicated. It doesn’t need to be turned into something performative or overly spiritual or wrapped up in rituals that take you further away from yourself. It’s actually far simpler than that, and maybe that’s why we overlook it.

It’s the feeling in your gut.
The subtle pull in your body.
The quiet sense of knowing that doesn’t shout, but is steady when you really listen.

And when you begin to trust that, even just a little, something starts to shift.

You move differently. There’s less urgency, less scrambling. You’re not constantly searching for confirmation or waiting for permission. Instead, you begin to make decisions from a place that feels more rooted, more connected. And those decisions, however small they may seem at the time, begin to build on each other. They create a kind of inner stability that can’t be found outside of you.

That doesn’t mean we shut the world out. It doesn’t mean we never ask for advice or lean on others. There is a real nuance here, a balance that matters. There are moments in life where things feel complex, where we genuinely don’t know, where another perspective can open something up for us.

But even then, there’s an invitation to come back. To check in with yourself after the conversation, after the advice, after the noise. To ask, how does this actually feel for me? Not what makes the most sense on paper, not what looks right from the outside, but what feels true in your body.

Because if we’re honest, many of us weren’t taught to trust ourselves in the first place.

We were taught to listen. To be good. To follow guidance. To trust authority, even in moments where something inside us felt off but we didn’t yet have the language or the confidence to honour it. And over time, that creates a disconnection. A quiet distancing from our own inner compass.

So when we talk about rebuilding trust, we’re not starting from nothing. We’re remembering. We’re returning. We’re gently unlearning all the ways we were taught to override ourselves.

And that takes time.

It also takes compassion, because trusting yourself doesn’t mean you will always make the “right” decision. There will be moments where you follow something and it doesn’t unfold how you expected. Moments where you look back and question it. Moments where it would be easy to say, see, I can’t trust myself.

But that isn’t the truth.

That’s being human. That’s learning. That’s living.

And sometimes, if you look a little closer, those moments hold something deeper. Maybe you weren’t fully listening, and you were following what you hoped was true rather than what you felt. Or maybe you needed that experience to show you something clearly, something you weren’t ready to see before.

Either way, it’s all part of strengthening that muscle.

Because that’s what this is, really. A practice.

And in a world that is louder than ever, this practice matters more than ever.

It’s so easy to become overwhelmed by input. To scroll, to compare, to absorb what everyone else is doing, thinking, saying. And without even noticing, you can drift further and further away from yourself.

So the work becomes coming back.

Sitting with yourself, even when it feels unfamiliar.
Noticing your body, your breath, your nervous system.
Learning what feels expansive and what feels contracted.

And at first, it might not feel comfortable. In fact, it might feel quite the opposite. If you’ve spent years not trusting yourself, choosing to do so can feel unsafe, like stepping into something unknown.

That’s okay.

You don’t have to rush it. You don’t have to get it perfect.

You can begin gently, by asking simple questions.
What would it feel like to trust myself here?
What is my body telling me, underneath the noise?

And then just listening. Without forcing. Without needing an immediate answer.

Because over time, something begins to settle. Something becomes clearer.

Not perfect, not certain in a rigid way, but clearer in a way that feels grounded.

And maybe that’s the shift. Moving away from needing absolute certainty, and towards building a relationship with yourself that you can rely on. One where you know you will listen. One where you know you will come back, even if you stray.

Because trusting yourself isn’t about getting it right all the time. It’s about staying connected to yourself through all of it. The good decisions, the messy ones, the moments of clarity and the moments of doubt.

It’s about allowing yourself to be imperfect in the process.

Some days, that trust will feel strong and steady. Other days, it might feel quiet, almost out of reach. Both are part of it. Both belong.

What matters is that you keep returning.

That you keep choosing to listen, even in small ways.

Because the more you do, the more you begin to recognise yourself again. The more you begin to move through the world in a way that feels aligned, not because everything is certain, but because you are connected.

And there’s a different kind of strength in that. A softer one. A quieter one. But a deeply powerful one all the same.

So if you’re feeling unsure, or disconnected, or caught in the noise of everything outside of you, maybe this is your invitation.

To pause.
To come back.
To begin rebuilding that trust, one small moment at a time.

Not perfectly, but honestly.

Because that voice within you? It’s still there.

And you can learn to trust it again.

I’d love to hear your thoughts on this, share with me here or on Instagram @thehannahwallace.

Come and join me on Saturday the 23rd May at London Olympia “Mind, body, spirit festival”. I’m speaking on the midlife wisdom stage at 11:30. My talk is free you just pay to get and have a whole day of free talks and stalls of all things spiritual. It’ll be so much fun. I hope to see you there if you are in the UK.

My solo musings from April, take a listen below.

This week’s card is from Jill Pyle’s “The sacred self-care oracle”deck.

This week’s card, clean your space, feels like a quiet but powerful invitation.

We’re in that in-between moment now, moving through the energy of the full flower moon and sitting halfway between spring and summer. And with that often comes a gentle urge to reset. Not in the same way as early spring, but in a deeper, more intentional way. A feeling of wanting things to be clearer, lighter, more supportive.

Not perfect, just better for you.

Because our spaces hold more than we realise. They hold energy, emotion, the way we move and think each day. And when things feel cluttered, even subtly, it can create a kind of background noise in our nervous system.

So this isn’t about being minimal or getting everything “just right.” It’s about creating a space that feels good to be in. A space where you can breathe a little easier, think a little clearer, and feel more like yourself.

And yes, it can feel overwhelming, especially when things have been tucked away or avoided. But there’s something really therapeutic about clearing it. About opening cupboards, sorting through what’s there, and letting go of what no longer fits.

Because when you do, you shift more than just your environment.

You create space.
You invite flow back in.
You begin to see things differently.

So let this be gentle. It doesn’t need to be rushed or all done at once. Move through it slowly, in a way that feels supportive.

Think of it as a reset, not just for your space, but for you too.

A way of clearing out any lingering heaviness from winter and making room for what’s next.

Open the windows.
Move things around.
Let your space feel like somewhere you can soften.

Because when your environment feels clear, something within you often does too.

Take your time this week and let this be a process you engage in the coming weeks ahead. But do begin and let that clean your space energy, add some sparkle into your space.

I hope everyone has a good week ahead, do share this with anyone who may enjoy it. This is greatly appreciated.

All my love

Hannah X