Trust Grows When We Make Things Right
- Kate Siegel
- Jul 29
- 4 min read
I recently facilitated two separate conversations between teammates (at two different organizations) where trust had been broken. I won't share the content of those conversations (because then who would trust me?!), but I will share a major difference that I observed: how far a sincere apology goes in rebuilding trust.
(All names are made up.)
In one group, two leaders I'll call Pat and Chris were still seething over a "major mistake" that happened last year, each of them believing the other was to blame. My goal was to shift the focus from blame, which was creating a "me vs. you" mentality, to getting them to look at their roles in the situation. What part did they own? How did they contribute? What could they have done differently to prevent what happened? As a result of this reframing, they claimed their responsibilities and switched to an "us vs. the problem" mindset, allowing them both to move forward. In a heartfelt moment, they each apologized to each other, not just for the blame they had been ascribing, but also for the distrust and disrespect they had shown each other in the intervening weeks. Both Pat and Chris felt bad about their behavior, and it showed.
There was a big hug, a few laughs, and it looked to me like trust was restored - if not, fully, to a strong enough extent that it would fully recover soon.
In the other group, three leaders I'll call Avery, Sam, and Jamie were also struggling to get through a past hurt. While there was no direct blaming with this group (they were considerably more polite to each other than Pat and Chris), there was also no clear "sorry" said by either side. People owned their behavior. People shared the rationale for why they did what they did. But that extra step of a heartfelt apology and making things right just wasn't available in this situation - it was far more complicated, and nobody really felt like they had done anything other than what they had to do given the circumstances.
Coming out of this meeting, I felt that a burden had been lifted for the participants, that trust was possible, but that there was a much longer road ahead for this group than the first.
Can "I'm sorry" make that much of a difference?
It turns out it can. According to Psychology Today, "A genuine apology has the power to heal wounds and rebuild trust. The key lies in authenticity—simply uttering the word 'sorry' is not enough if it is not backed by real remorse and a willingness to change behavior." It takes vulnerability and humility; acknowledging that we have caused someone pain or harm shows we have a greater awareness of the situation and a higher likelihood of repair. (If you can't see that you've caused harm, it's a lot less likely that you'll repair it.)
And is remorse a requirement?
No, not necessarily, but it does go a really long way. In her podcast, Relationships Uncomplicated, Idit Sharoni explores the question of remorse through the lens of unfaithful spouses. When a cheating spouse doesn't feel remorse, she says, it can stall any healing "because the hurt partner often feels invalidated and stuck in their pain."
When we show true remorse, we can reduce defensiveness in the other person because we are acknowledging our own wrongdoing, which can foster empathy and show we care. By taking responsibility and demonstrating a commitment to change (e.g., "I'll never do that again, I swear"), we can start rebuilding the sense of security and safety in the relationship. But what if you don't actually feel remorse? What if, like Avery, Sam, and Jamie, you don't actually feel like you could have done anything else?
Then you can tap into how sorry you are for the pain the other person has experienced as a result of your actions. For example (and I recognize this is silly, but it's relevant), I once gave my mother-in-law a cookie my daughter had decorated. She ate the cookie and thanked my daughter for such a tasty cookie. My daughter then had a full-on meltdown about grandma eating her Very Favorite Cookie Ever. (She was four.)
I didn't feel bad about the cookie - we had more and, frankly, it was no Mona Lisa. But I did feel bad about hurting my daughter and putting my MIL in an awkard position. So I didn't apologize to my daughter for giving Grandma her cookie. I apologized for not knowing it would hurt her so badly. (And I truly felt remorse for that.)
If you are quick to apologize and don't struggle to own your responsibility in difficult situations, you're well on your way to building trust. But if it doesn't come so easily to you, ask yourself these questions:
How do you feel when you've made a mistake?
What's your natural tendency - to hide it? Make it better? Justify it? Hope nobody notices?
What wrongs in your past have you not righted? What has kept you from righting them? Looking back on them now, how do you feel?
One last tip - if you're looking to build trust with someone, try to forgive quickly and easily. Don't make it difficult for others to right wrongs with you. And if you need help with that, coaching with me is a great place to start.




Comments