The Difference Between Liking Something and Trusting It

Over the years, I’ve learned there’s a difference between liking something and trusting it.
They can look similar at first, but they feel very different once you learn to notice.

Liking something is often immediate. It’s visual. It’s emotional. A piece of furniture or a decorative object catches your eye and you feel a small jolt of excitement — oh, that’s good. 

I still experience that feeling all the time, and I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it.

Trusting something, though, arrives more quietly.

When I trust a piece, I don’t feel rushed. I don’t feel the need to explain it to myself, or imagine how it will be received by others, or how it will be integrated into my home.

It doesn’t demand attention — it settles in. There’s a steadiness to it that feels durable rather than exciting.

I’ve noticed that when I only like something, I keep circling back to it in my mind. I second-guess. I imagine alternatives. I feel the need to justify the choice. When I trust something, that mental noise disappears. The decision feels complete.

This is something I learned slowly…and mostly by getting it wrong.

There were pieces I loved immediately — the finish, the shape, the way they looked in the moment — but over time they felt restless in my space. They asked to be noticed again and again.  Working other pieces — or an entire room — around them felt like work. These are also pieces that I find moving around quite a bit. 

They’re the pieces that I look at and think to myself “I like it so much but…”

Then there were pieces I hesitated over, that didn’t announce themselves, but once I brought them home, they simply belonged. I never questioned them. I never had to make them work or design rooms around them. They were team players from the start and they brought me joy immediately and consistently.

Now, when I look at old things, I pay attention to that difference. I notice whether something feels loud or calm, whether it wants reassurance or already feels steady. Trust has a quieter voice, but it’s also more reliable.

Liking something can be a spark. Trusting it is what allows it to stay.

I think this distinction applies beyond objects. Once you learn to recognize it, you start noticing it everywhere — in rooms, in choices, in what you allow to take up space in your life.