Simon Mark Smith’s Autobiography
CHAPTER 5
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The Myth of Trust
Outliving the Myth of Trust
Billy Bragg, the politically inspired singer-songwriter, once wrote about outliving the myth of trust. I recently had a few friends read over the first drafts of this and they all questioned the validity of Boris’s stories. I told Boris this and he suggested that maybe I tone down his stories so people would find them easier to believe. But I guess, in a way, you’re going to have to trust that as far as I can I’m going to be as honest with you as I can be. If anything, there will be times when I have toned things down, both for legal reasons and the protection of those also involved. I realise trust is a hard-earned and fragile commodity, so I hope you’ll at least accept, I’ll try my best.
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The Pros and Cons of Snooping
One day I was in a hotel room in Israel with my father and Barney Smith, when I told them I was going somewhere for five minutes and left my PDA in audio record mode. When I got back, I let them know what I’d done and asked if I could have a listen. They said yes. Most of the conversation involved Boris telling Barney about my mother, which was quite interesting. However, listening in on someone talking about oneself or reading someone else’s diary is something I’ve learnt through painful experiences to be a precarious pursuit. Even so, I can sometimes still feel a bit tempted to do it, especially if I believe something is amiss when it comes to myths and truths.
When I was seventeen, I looked at a girlfriend’s diary and saw the words “The bastard. Simon came around”. Once I saw this, I couldn’t contain myself and asked her about it. She showed it to me and I realised that the words “the Bastard” referred to the previous few lines’ rant about a teacher. The full stop between Bastard and Simon made all the difference, but in my glance, I didn’t notice it. In that situation, I not only revealed my paranoia but also made it very clear I’d pried. I also discovered that firstly, I wasn’t strong enough to burden myself with a secret, and secondly, the cost of snooping was far more emotionally tolling than it was worth.
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The Brutality of Honesty
Tonight I was out with Monica, well we’ve just split up and are trying to remain friends. We were sitting in a theatre bar chatting with a mutual friend when I needed to go to the toilet, so, I turned my phone to silent because my ex hates its petulant ring and walked away. When I returned, I picked the phone up to turn its ringer back on and realised it was recording. At that moment, I was torn between letting them know it had recorded them and waiting to have a listen later. As I thought it through my ex said, “Why are you recording us?”
“For fuck’s sake!” I thought to myself.
I hadn’t cared about whatever they were likely to say about me, I was just being a bit nosey, or paranoid, but now, with this happening I finally understood she and I had outlived the myth of trust, and this was the end.
In time though, I realised what mattered more was whether I had any trust in myself, and it was clear right then I didn’t. I’d had therapy and found it hard to be completely honest, and likewise, I wasn’t totally open in many of my other relationships, including the one with Monica. With that in mind, I realised trusting in myself was going to be something I’d have to develop if ever I was to ask it of others.
In the following pages, the honesty may at times be brutal, but at least you’ll get a sense I’m trying my best to be as truthful as possible.
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End of Chapter 5
