How to Rebuild Connection After Mutual Trust Issues
Thursday, August 21, 2025. This is for LD.
When Both of You Have Broken Trust
The fight is over, but the quiet is worse. You’re sitting across from each other, and it feels like there’s a ledger between you — texts, promises broken, things said and unsaid. Neither of you is innocent, and both of you know it.
That’s the tricky part about mutual betrayal.
When one person breaks trust, the roles are clear: who’s injured, who’s at fault.
But when you’ve both done damage? No one gets to stand on high ground. It’s a stalemate.
And yet, not all stalemates mean the game is over. Sometimes they’re just the pause before you figure out how to move again.
Why It Hurts More When Both Are Guilty
Psychologists call trust a “dynamic equilibrium” — always shifting depending on behavior and context (Rempel et al., 1985). When only one partner breaks trust, the balance tips in one direction. But when both do? The whole structure cracks.
The danger isn’t just the betrayal itself. It’s the paralysis that follows: neither partner feels safe enough to take the first step toward repair.
As a therapist, I’ve seen couples stuck in this exact gridlock. Each one is waiting for the other to blink first. The truth is, the rebuilding never begins until both people decide to risk a little humility at the same time.
The Mirror Test
At some point, usually alone, you look in the mirror and admit it: “I wasn’t blameless.”
It’s not easy. But it’s where the repair starts. Not by demanding that your partner win back your trust, but by owning how you helped erode theirs.
In session, I often ask partners to name one thing they regret, without excuses. It’s amazing how quickly the air shifts when even one person says, “I see how I hurt you.”
What Actually Helps
You can’t fix trust with one grand gesture. It’s more like slow carpentry: you sand, you glue, you check if it holds. A few things matter most:
Say your part plainly. No hedging, no “but you also…” Just name the ways you fell short.
Be transparent. Share what you’re doing and why. Not because your partner is the police, but because secrecy kills what little safety is left.
Draft new agreements. If the old rules failed, build new ones. Spell out what honesty looks like now.
Keep the small promises. Show up when you say you will. Do the errand. Call back. Boring reliability is the scaffolding of trust.
Risk being vulnerable again. That means saying, “I want to trust you,” even if your voice shakes (Johnson, 2004).
The Daily Grind of Rebuilding
Big declarations help, but daily habits do the actual work. Trust drips back in through consistency:
Call when you said you would.
Share plans without being asked.
Make a small ritual of checking in — five minutes before bed, a quick text at lunch.
Offer affection even if it feels tentative: holding hands in the car, sitting close on the couch.
In therapy, I remind couples that these aren’t trivial gestures. They’re how the nervous system learns safety again. Trust is experienced more in patterns than in promises.
How Culture Shapes the Repair
Not all couples rebuild the same way. Culture writes different scripts:
In the U.S., people often talk about “moving on” as if you can just erase history. You can’t.
In parts of Latin America, repair isn’t private. Extended family gets involved, holding people accountable and helping carry the weight.
In East Asian contexts, the focus is often less on confession, more on restoring harmony and respect.
In Nordic countries, the work leans pragmatic — less talk, more consistency.
With my background in labor studies, I can’t help noticing how much this parallels workplaces and unions. Some cultures demand open bargaining, others emphasize harmony, others enforce rules quietly. The same is true in families: the context shapes the repair.
A Fragile Gesture
It’s late. You’re in bed, backs turned. One hand reaches out. The other doesn’t pull away.
That’s not forgiveness. But it’s not nothing, either.
Morning Coffee
The next day, you wake early. You make coffee, slice some fruit. You sit down together. It’s quiet, but not the bad kind. No ledgers, no accusations. Just two people sharing the same morning.
That’s how repair begins. Not with fireworks. With coffee. With silence you can stand. With the sense that perhaps it’s possible to start over once again.
Why It’s Worth Trying
Walking away is easy. Rebuilding after mutual betrayal takes more grit — and more humility.
But if you both lean in, the relationship that comes out of it won’t be the same as before. That’s the point. It won’t be naïve. It’ll be deliberate. And maybe sturdier.
As a marriage and family therapist, I’ve seen couples crawl out of these holes. They never rebuild exactly what they had — but they sometimes build something stronger: connection tempered by honesty.
Be Well, Stay Kind, and Godspeed.
REFERENCES:
Johnson, S. M. (2004). The practice of emotionally focused couple therapy: Creating connection (2nd ed.). Brunner-Routledge.
Rempel, J. K., Holmes, J. G., & Zanna, M. P. (1985). Trust in close relationships. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 49(1), 95–112. https://doi.org/10.1037/0022-3514.49.1.95
Simpson, J. A. (2007). Psychological foundations of trust. Current Directions in Psychological Science, 16(5), 264–268. https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1467-8721.2007.00517.x