La Migra

by José Antonio Rodriguez


The grownups sat on their long chair called couch

And talked of the weather, the dew of the blossoms’ morning,

And what might happen to us, the children.

Mom said don’t leave the house, not without

Papers. Do I dare speak of the papers hoarded

In corners? How many more poems can you write

About a face spackled with fear before

It holds you? The reader aiming, too.

Let us find a charcoaled corner, you and I,

Where we will lay these words. Leave children

To sleep in windowless rooms. The mother

biting a prayer. The country weaving a tomb.

When Someone Cheats On You


I was sitting at a Tri Delta event, messaging someone for information. When they responded with an absolute confirmation, I was rocked. I gasped out loud, which made the entire table look at me.

I guess they weren’t good at reading emotions because they thought I had received good news.

Far from it.

The guy I had spent the whole summer being friends with, the one who I thought there might be a chance of getting back together with, the one who I held up on a pedestal and praised for making me take a step back and re-evaluate my friendships- had cheated on me. Months ago.

When he broke up with me, he didn’t tell me that. He specifically told me, “I don’t like anyone else. I’m not dating anyone else.” At that time, that struck me as odd, because I hadn’t thought that at all. He told me he thought I was cheating on him.

So, here I am, feeling devastated about everything, as I think it’s all my fault. I think I was a terrible girlfriend, not to say I wasn’t. I blamed myself a lot for not making more time for this person. One of my friends from Underwings hated that when I told her after the break-up. She’s in a feminist oriented service org, and she was pissed that a man had a problem with me chasing my dreams. Which, I didn’t think was actually the problem.

I had an internship that I traveled to two days a week, which effectively took up both of those days.

I remember my friends praising how I balanced my relationship and my friends. I didn’t just say goodbye to them when I was in a relationship. And I thought I was balancing it well.

When we broke up though, I took the whole blame. I didn’t think I had done anything right. I thought I should have spoken to him more and spent more time with him, which was different from my initial attitude because I thought we were speaking enough.

But I saw this guy, and I just thought that I had hurt him so much. And to hurt someone who I thought was so beautiful- well, that hurt me. I couldn’t believe I had caused him so much pain. I would literally fall asleep crying thinking about how badly I handled the relationship. After the break-up and during the summer. Because this beautiful human being who I had met, I had caused him to go through two break-ups within the span of a year, and I knew how much his original one with his earlier girlfriend had hurt him. And I did it again. Two failed relationships. I was so sorry.

But then- the beginning of this year, I found out he had lied to me. And it hurt so much. I never would have found out if my friend hadn’t tried to look out for me and tell me. Beyond just finding out, it hurts that so many people- friends and acquaintances- of mine and his knew and didn’t bother to tell me. It’s not even so much the silence. It’s the being able to smile at me, have a conversation with me, and be friendly with all of that knowledge. It makes me feel stupid. Embarrassed. Like I was in the dark, and like everything has been fake and false. I guess that’s how it is with secrets.

I’ll continue this as it keeps going. It was nice to write again though.

—– That beginning part was 8 months ago. It’s May so that makes it September when I wrote that.

Although I have not returned to that particular post, I have been dealing with the aftermath of what I described. I have wanted to get my feelings out. I’ve wanted to write poems and entries and a film and posts. And I’ve done some of that.

The feelings I described are accurate. There are so many more though as well.

There’s how it turned into a really traumatic experience. For example, after not seeing this person for months, I ran into him unexpectedly. Afterwards, I couldn’t even talk. It affected me for the whole day.

There were other days, in the fall semester, when the wound was bleeding fresh, when I would lay on my bed and just cry. Not knowing how my life ended up like this. Having it feel all so surreal. And yeah- this sounds dramatic af. I know. But I’ve been trying to think of a pain to compare this whole experience too, and I have nothing.

However, I could look back on that girl who went to SPS each week, and the girl who cried bewildered tears and physically did not feel as if she could remove herself from her bed, and I know I’m much better.

I know that last semester, this occurrence took up my entire mind space. I let friendships go for various reasons but also because I didn’t know what to talk about anymore. I could only think about what had happened. How I didn’t know. Obsess over how it happened. Craft a timeline in my head. December 15th. A birthday. Talk about a celebration.

I could only look at the people who I had cherished so much and wonder how much they knew. I could only slit my eyes in suspicion. Mistrust. Why didn’t you tell me? How could you, how could you, how could you. 

I thought about how I wanted to take him out for his birthday, and I didn’t because his roommate told me he was going home. Innocent enough. I wonder if he still has the Star Wars speakers that I got him.

But in light of new details, memories change. His roommate telling me that he’s going home morphs into something more sinister because of my lack of trust and my suspicions. did he know? did he help him plan it? did he encourage it? Or did my person lie to him about what he was planning to do?

And I have gone over what happened so so many times. Couch make-out session? Sleep over in the bed? Watching a show? Making the first move. Even though, even though – “it’s not like I went for it.” And why.

These are things that aren’t going to have answers. They exist of course. But I know that I don’t need to ask them.

There are other things that I should probably stop going over, but they pop up in my mind anyway. Wonderings about how that person I considered a friend could know that something had happened, could suspect that it was cheating because something happened, she’s gonna hate me and still manage to give me a lecture on how I needed to make more time for him. should have talked to him more upon breaking up. how she really made it seem like it was all my fault, and how I believed that. How I felt bad for spending time with one of my best friends because he told me he thought I was cheating on him with said person. How I was careful about inviting that friend to my sorority’s formal so that he would not be offended. how he responded weirdly to me telling him my twin was hella drunk at formal, and me wondering why. But that’s a tangent. Going back to the friend. I thought it was all my fault, with random spasms of knowing that it took two to talk to each other. What hurt about this one friend is how she did know or suspected it because he directly told her in vague language and with that knowledge, she managed to convince me that I should have stepped up, how I believed that. When I found out she knew as well, I was immediately in disbelief again. No way. Not you. Not another person. Did literally everyone know and just manage to think we were still friends by not telling me? I got over her involvement in this whole thing. Or maybe I really just suppressed it. Because as the semester went on, I came to resent her more and more. I still can’t understand, regardless of how we were all friends with each other, how she could know that he cheated on me but still act like there was something to save when he broke up with me and act like I was the one who needed to do the saving. What’s gone is gone.

I took her chastisement to heart. Over that summer, referring back to those paragraphs from eight months ago, I felt like I messed up a part of someone’s life. Two failed relationships, I thought. Hurting someone who seemed so beautiful to me, who taught me that you didn’t need to be religious to see the world with beauty. I had nights where I cried myself to sleep, thinking about all the harm I thought I caused and all of the things I did wrong and could have done right.

And when I found out that there was nothing to be done? Damn. I felt like I really wasted a whole summer. Crying. But also talking to him nearly every day.

Guess what?

On June 2nd, I don’t know what brought this on. But on June 2nd, I had the thought “wait, why am I still upset?” and just asking myself that question brought me clarity. If I get lost in the details, I’m sure that I can find myself agonizing over things again. But just having that question pop into my head has brought so much relief. I don’t need to be upset anymore. It really isn’t worth my time.

These past few days have been great. I’ve spent a lot of time with friends (Yi Ning, Darlin) and met random people when I ventured outside (John, Luke). It’s a nice reminder that there’s more to life that what I’ve spent the past few months preoccupied with.

I also got to be proud of myself. This has been a really long, really frustrating journey. It’s been full of blaming myself, trying to forgive people, deciding that forgiveness is not something they’ll get from me, distancing myself from people, and just being really shocked. Yeah, I guess shocked sums up everything.

But if I hadn’t been there, I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t be enjoying these few weeks I have here in Los Angeles for the summer. I wouldn’t have gotten to realize what being present feel likes again.

I think being surrounded by my friends, loving my internship, and experiencing new things helped. It’s so easy to be distracted by the negatives, the losses. It’s hard to make decisions that’ll be good for you and that will let you grow. But my friends, yoo. I’m so glad I have them. Because yeah, I might sometimes make the mistake of thinking some people are my friends and then they turn out not to be. But when I get it right- when someone who I think is my friend is so so so my friend. Then man, is that the best thing ever.

The question of “why am I still upset” just so randomly popped into my head that I think God, or whoever, got tired of seeing me upset and was like ya know, she’s in a good place, I think she’ll get it this time. I do.

I’m also proud of myself. It didn’t take me a whole year to get over it. Just 10 months haha.

I also just saw this on Facebook:

“Sometimes you need to remind yourself that you were the one who carried you through the heartache. You are the one who sits with the cold body on the shower floor, and picks it up. You are the one who feeds it, who clothes it, who tucks it into bed, and you should be proud of that…”

I’m good right now. Sure, sometimes, during the semesters, I took Tiffany’s secret shower tips and skipped a day. I mostly ate out because I only bought groceries twice over the course of the whole school year. I came and went and hardly talked to my roommates, though they seemed to like me anyway. I managed to skip enough classes that I got dropped a full letter grade (tbh I still think this is mistake and that I only missed two but my teacher accidentally counted me absent 4 times but aye it’s alright, Life Goes On s/o Tupac). I stopped caring about a lot of things.

But yooo. I picked myself up (with the help of my friends but also with  my own help). Now, I buy groceries. Now, I cook for myself. I have a routine for my face everyday. I’m still lazy af with my hair, but baby steps, baby steps. I’m doing my best at my internship, and I’m actually interested in it. I get to places mostly on time. I’m able to hold conversations with people and remember what they say.

There were a lot of things I had to question about myself during the year.

Hair. Face. Body. Personality.

But now, I sing in the car. Very loudly to Whitney Houston tunes. While in traffic. While people can see me- which isn’t totally okay with me. It’s kind of enough to make me stop singing, but I’m telling myself to sing anyway.

I sit in parks by myself and meet cool people along the way. I look content enough that cashiers tell me, “you look happy.”

Last year, I had my hair straightened for Tri Delta formal. It was weird. Straight hair didn’t look like me anymore.

Today, I got it straightened. I wanted to see how long it was, and I also missed the ponytail that I wore for so many years. Whoa. It looked like me. Yet, I also missed my curls and the bun I had been wearing on my head all summer (though I don’t miss how matted it was oh geez). Both are me. Both are Paige. I love having something to flip off my shoulder, something to tie up and shake. And I also love fixing all of my curls to sit upright on my head or having an afro full of them. I like that it’s on my terms.

I like that I don’t feel like I need permission from anyone to be myself anymore, and I love that I have friends that encourage that (even when they sometimes enable it hahaha, much love).

Sure- If I bother to worry myself about trying to figure out all the details again, then I might get saddened once more. But these past few days of not caring about the details, about wondering why I did care so much, ahh they’ve been so good. So much more alive. So, forget the details. I’ve done enough wondering about each little thing I can wonder about. Time to get back to actuality. Time to see my smile look like my smile.

Last year, my grandma had to tell me to “be strong”.

Today, I called her and she told me, “you sound good.”

I am.

** This is not meant to a calling out post. I don’t mention names of people involved. This is because words are my thing. Writing helps me think, and this is an experience I’ve thought about over and over again but had trouble writing about. There has been so much to say that I just let myself not say anything. I didn’t know what to say. I have entries in my personal journal that explore some of my feelings in more depth. I have other posts on this blog that touch upon what was in my mind.

Other Posts (after and before finding out- yo some of these I forgot about) – – September 2016 – November 2016 – December 2016 – January 2017 – February 2017 – April 2016 (last year) 

It’d be really hard to say how I felt about all of this in this one post, so it’s kind of jumpy. It begins after I found out because I immediately turned to writing (September). I didn’t pick up this particular post again for the aforementioned reasons until May because I now had to time to write again, and I wanted to get this whole saga finished. I was planning to carry this out through the summer, taking my time to write out different instances that brought about different emotions. I figured I would publish it at the end of the summer because writing about all of it would probably help me finally close this chapter. However, closing it came about earlier than I thought, and I don’t feel the need to continue this anymore. Which is a great thing. So, for your clarity, this post moves in terms of SeptemberMay, and June. June 2nd was a glorious day. Thanks for reading. <3** 


Trust after SPS

December 8th, 2016 6:37 AM

“One must be fond of others and trust them if one is not to make a mess of life.” –  E.M. Forster

Trusting people immediately is something I used to pride myself on. I have never made anyone earn my trust, and usually, when people have broken it, I’ve let them have it back. This semester was a little different from how I normally approach trust, and I can’t fully explain how frustrated, depressed, and prone to lie down in my bed and sob it made me.

For the first time, I was someone jaded who questioned everyone around me and is still doing that. It’s annoying because I have never wanted to be that person, and I prefer to just trust and trust away.

But- this semester, I was floored. I found out multiple friends of my mine kept information about something someone who was really important to me did for months. Guess what it is if you want. In addition to that, friends of the person also knew. I was an acquaintance of these friends.

And it just hurts. To think everything is one way and to have it be entirely flipped. To remember gushing conversations but to now know behind those gushing conversations lurked deceptive information. Man, it just hurts.

To have to question close friends about their role just because I’m suspicious now.

To have to stare at people around me with connections to each of us and wonder who else knew or who else did what with who.

It breaks me down because I’m a trusting person who can’t do that right now.

Initially, I focused my anger and my hurt on the two people at the center of it all. And they still receive a lot of it, but it’s also shifted. Because while one of the people was someone I was planning to be in touch with years and years down these life roads, I can’t believe so many of my friends kept the information from me too.

And it’s a tug because there’s a pull between being forgiving and my lack of trust and interest in continuing a relationship where I was lied to in multiple ways.

It just hurts.

But the point of this is that: it takes up a lot of room in my mind. I haven’t fully dealt with all of the emotions because there’s so many facets and so many directions to take everything.

I started going to SPS on a day where I found myself sobbing and numb and unable to get up for class. I laid on my bed in disbelief that the life I was living was mine. Everything seemed one way, and it wasn’t. When I first went, I described that to my therapist- that everything seemed so surreal.

The other point of this:

If I haven’t seemed like me, I’m not to myself either. I don’t have the energy to always participate in events or conversation. Because if I’m participating in one conversation, there’s at least four more things I’m thinking about. Usually connected to the semi-described thing above. I don’t always have time to be a good film major and watch movies because what’s the point when I can’t even concentrate on them or take them in? What’s the point of going and trying to have fun when I won’t remember the jokes said or when so and so laughed at this point and how alive they looked? I don’t even have the mental strength to pass people walking and say hello to them with an actual smile.

Last point:

I’m getting there. I’ll be fine, and things always work out.

But be patient with me, and I’ll try and do the same.

And per SPS advice, I’ll try and sit with my emotions as they happen and fully deal with them, so I can maybe start being as present as I want/need to be.

Can’t wait. ❤

Life Goes On

Remembering the impact Tupac had on my life when I first listened to him is such a nice memory.

I’ve been playing the Greatest Hits for the past two days, and it’s so refreshing.

The classics are still my classics.

To Live & Die in LA  has an even bigger impact now. This place is special. But Tupac- ah man, we lost a real soul.

Much love. His voice never fades. It sounds like he’s speaking right now. Love love Tupac. He’s a real favorite.

Unconditional Love/Picture Me Rollin’/Me Against The World/I Ain’t Mad At Cha/Changes/Keep Ya Head Up/How Long Will They Mourn Me/Troublesome ’96/Dear Mama/Life Goes On. 

Gains vs. Losses

Both sophomore and junior year contained major L’s by the name of friendships lost. There were people that I lost trust in over this span of time, but there were two big friendships lost. The first one I really do not care about at all anymore. It was more so the way that person ended up making me see myself in such a negative light that caused me so much grief. The second person? Well, sometimes that one still hurts. I guess I’ll leave it there. Because it’s true. It’s hard for me to frame the second one in “their loss”. Because I think about the friendship that I thought I had, and it’s hard to know that it was built on a false premise because it didn’t feel that way. It felt like multiple things. It felt like a chance. It felt like a close friend. And it felt like I was important. So when it turned out that those things weren’t true or weren’t as true as they could have been, then it hurt. And sometimes, I focus more on the gains. But sometimes, it’s hard not to go back over the losses again and again. In disbelief mainly. And envisioning various scenarios. But here I am. Wanting to have moved on from that so much. Sometimes accomplishing, sometimes failing. Wondering.

But. I want to concentrate on hope. I want to go back over all of my friendship gains. Because yeah, there might have been people crawling out of two windows, but damn, they opened a door. And my friends have more than shown up to my party. I love them. Sometimes I forget them. Sometimes I don’t answer their calls. I can be flaky. I can lack communication. But at the end of the day, when I see them, man, do I love them.

Note: The above description of love is a little strong for some of these people haha. I do like them all! But some of them just made an impact in being a nice person this year and spending some amount of time with me. Others, like Melissa, Yi Ning, and Adrian, well, they get to take a spoonful of frosting and eat it. They’re just that sweet of an addition to my life.

So, these are my gains. When I’m tempted to think about my losses, I’ll think about y’all instead.

Melissa Martinez – accountability partner and the realest homie. I forgot she didn’t like hugs, but she gives them to me anyway.

Arvin Sutedja – understated homie. donated a lot to my film, which mean a lot to me. had a lot of fun with him in Laguna Beach.

Darlin Valentine – my little! she does a better job of reaching out to me than vice versa.

Mariel Sosa – my bike riding girl.

Yi Ning Wong – my spring semester everythiiiing.

Yi Ming Zhou – part of the crew I messaged my way into haha.

Paola Franco – power girl.

Jackee Alvarez – sister whether or not we are in the same sorority.

Adrian Narayan – dating not dating. love love. I’ve been missing my usual guy crew from home, but that’s only because I overlook how Adrian is one of my best friends.

Dion Dang/Fatima Beck/Chrystal Shek – Underwings bbs.

Cameron Kuwada – Series of Unfortunate Events was lit. Sometimes I think he hates me, and sometimes I know that we’re all right.

Alexis Hall – “I hate youuuu” pshh. That’s the most endearing “I hate you” that I’ve ever heard. ❤


Yo Yo – AHHH.

Lu Han – Lu ❤

Khalilah Windham – went upstairs after the screening to search for mine on the server. that meant a lot.

Anika Jess – MY YG BB.

Daniel Polo – so genuine and manages to stop and have lengthy conversations with me whenever I see him out of class.

Alayna Kobayashi – going places girl. going places.

Athena Martinez – AHH ATHENAAA.

Tiffany Nguyen – included later because Tiffany has been a homie since freshmen year. has seen me at my worst, listened to my worst, and still let me pick up Tatsu from her fridge and accidentally crash on her couch. that’s my g.

Mexico City Crew + MEChA (Carlos, Marc, Kevin, Sofia, Bri Ortiz, Tabitha, Angel, Antonio) – damn, could there have been anyone better? no.

Han Tao&Film Crew – who needs to go to Han Tao when I know half of them outside of it anyway? jk. we’ll go.

Friends of Friends crew – they made an impact too.


spent too much time staring in that rearview mirror. the two L’s I took? Psh.

Inheritance by Lan Samantha Chang

From start to finish, I really haven’t read a book in a while. There have been books for class, or books that I’ve began, or just picked up from the mini-libraries that are around LMU’s campus, but I haven’t finished any books that haven’t been for class.

When I have finished the book, it has taken a while, or I got near the finish line and stopped reading.

I’ve picked up a number of books this year. There was Nochita from San Francisco. The Things We Don’t Do, maybe also from San Francisco. I made a scene from Nochita into a directing exercise for class and meant to send it to the man who sold it to me and also to the author of the novel, Dia Felix. I finished The Things We Don’t Do by Andrés Neuman in Mexico City. I began the LMU common book, A Tale for the Time Being, and was struck at how beautiful that phrase was and how I needed to be a time being. I re-started it twice but still have yet to finish.

Reading is indeed my hobby. But reading is hard. It means actively letting go of other distractions, like Instagram or Facebook. It means focusing and getting lost in the story. Which was always one of my favorite things about reading- you’re in another world for a second. You’re invested in the characters and what is going to happen to them. It’s something special.

Today, maybe thirty minutes ago, I finished Inheritance by Lan Samantha Chang. I got it from one of the wooden pop up libraries at LMU. It actually isn’t even the finished edition. It’s an uncopyedited manuscript, that has some writing in blue ink in the front and back of the book.

In my free moments, I wanted to return to that book. When I got close to finishing it, it was like winning a prize. And when I did finish it, it made me want to read another novel. Because I got to remember how much I love that. Sitting, laying down, flipping the pages, and concentrating.

It’s really hard to focus on anything, much less reading, but this is a good week. I’ve felt like Paige is somewhere nearby. The DGA open house inspired me and reminded me that things happen when you believe in them and when you believe in you. Trust that you can. I actually feel like making a 400. I feel like I have something to say, and I began another poem yesterday- while I was in class, so I probably should have been paying attention, but regardless. I really like the poem, and I can see my voice.

Getting to Inheritance, I still need time to decipher it and how I feel about it. But my initial feelings are a gratefulness that it exists, and that this is the book that is going to bring me back to reading.

You know, I was just about to write a summary, but I don’t want to do that.

The novel deals with a family, mainly composed of women, in China. It opens with the grandfather, but he eventually dies. The mother, Chanyi (grandmother to the narrator), may or may not have committed suicide. This affects the youngest daughter, Yinan, (aunt to the narrator) in that she is more recluse and quiet and knows that her mother committed suicide. She assumes it is because she was born a girl, when Chanyi and her husband would have preferred a boy. However, the eldest daughter, Junan, refuses to discuss her mother in those terms, and believes the way that she fell so deeply in love with her husband to be her downfall. She vows to not be like her mother, as she saw how it was her undoing.

Despite this, Junan enters into an arranged marriage with Li Ang. She falls for him, and she loves him. He is fighting for the Nationalist party, although his brother Li Bing is a communist and thus is on the opposite side. She assumes that Li Ang does not go to chaweis or sleep with other women. She loves him each time he returns from being stationed somewhere.

However, through the way of a gossip, it eventually comes back to her that of course Li Ang has visited chaweis. This is of a deep hurt to her, and after some time has passed, she wires a telegram to Li Ang to let him know that she is planning to send Yinan to live with him. This is a way for Junan to see that Li Ang is preoccupied, without losing him to another woman. She would rather choose the woman and thus chooses her sister.

Unexpectedly, Yinan falls in love with Li Ang, and the feeling is deeply mutual. Yinan ends up being pregnant with a boy, and for Junan, this is forgivable. Yinan is the sister she loves, after all. It has always been the two of them. However, what becomes unforgivable is the love between Yinan and Li Ang. It might have been forgivable that Yinan fell in love with Li Ang, but the reverse is not okay. Their relationship is forever altered. It is the hurt that causes Junan to push both of them away.

This book was hard to get through at times. Not because of the way it is written or any actual density in the language. Just being so involved in the feelings of the character is what makes the book hard to emotionally get through. I had to put the book down and return to it the next day at times. It is obvious how much it hurt Junan to even think of Li Ang slipping away when she loves him so much, or of being “just a man” (quoted in the book somewhere, in some fashion). It also hurt me to read of Li Ang whenever he assumed that Junan must know that he occasionally went to chaweis and slept with other women. The way Junan cared so much paralleled with his carelessness towards her and the ease with which the casual sex is expected when someone is far apart really hurt. So, I felt for Junan a lot.

That’s always tricky with these kind of stories, literature or media wise. Because by the end of novel, it is apparent that Junan has had a negative influence on the lives of the people around her. She has been controlling in a need to present a calm demeanor, because she has loved and loves too hard. But it has been destructive. It hurts to know that she was always extremely excited for Li Ang to come home, but presented herself in a calm way. In such that he didn’t know. But perhaps it would have hurt her even more if she had greeted him with exuberant joy, and he still betrayed her anyway.

And that’s a confusing thing. Because Li Ang’s betrayal, which is what it was, also resulted in Yinan being true to herself. Which forever hurt her for the rest of her life. Although, Li Ang and Yinan remain together until Yinan’s death.

The book just begs a lot of questions, and it is easy to sympathize with multiple characters at one point and then to resent them at the next and then to sympathize with them again.

For example, there’s the case of Hu Ran and Junan’s daughter, Hong. Hong, from a young age, was interested in Hu Ran, and Junan sent him away. They find each other, in later years, in another city, and fall in love. But Junan, as somewhat her mother’s daughter, conceals how much she loves Hu Ran, and is not quite aware of this until after they are separated by the war, and she is in Taipei. She realizes there that she is pregnant. Hu Mudan encourages Hu Ran to go after Hong. However, he dies on the journey. This too, might have been avoided, if not for Junan.

Yet, it’s complicated. Junan is a villian at points, but the audience gets to know her thoughts very intimately in the beginning of the novel. Thus, she’s not someone who could ever be hated because the audience understands her too.

So, the novel is great. It is heartbreaking. It rings very true. And it’s not able to be read quickly, but it goes by fast anyway.

❤ ❤ ❤

Thanks for writing it.

On Instincts

If there is anything that I have learned in the year 2016 and again this past night, it is the importance of trust.

When people give you a reason to question the trust that you’ve placed in them, trust the remaining people even more. And continue to trust new people.

Don’t make them have to earn it.


But trust your instincts too. It’s as smart a move as trusting the people around you.