Responsibility in Relationships—Developing Bonds of Trust

My son is twenty-two, and I trust him completely.

Well, almost completely. He’s tried to pull some fast ones over the years, but on the whole, they’ve been very minor. I’d almost be worried if he hadn’t. All of us go through a process in our relationships of establishing how much we trust one another and how trustworthy we are. Part of that includes exploring the boundaries and finding the balance between words and actions that we perceive as beneficial to us (e.g., a child getting away with something) and those that build trust. In terms of trust in relationships with others, there are several ways to think about it. One is the component of trust in the parts of our lives that come with significant responsibilities, such as taking care of our children, as well as other aspects of our relationships and our professional duties. Another is our trust in others based on the strength of the relationship. This kind of trust depends on our experience with other people as well as how trustworthy we are. We can also think about trust as an attachment to a certain outcome—we trust something is going to happen. While this isn’t necessarily bad, we should guard against becoming too attached to a particular behavior or condition and stay open-minded as to what we might encounter on our path.

When trust is vital

When we strive to make sure certain things happen, it’s not just that we desire those outcomes—we actually have a responsibility to make sure they happen. This goes beyond trust. I may trust that my son is going to be safe, but even if he has shown himself to be extremely trustworthy, I’m still going to ask questions to make sure he is. If there’s any doubt, I follow up. It’s not that I don’t trust him—it’s that I have the responsibility as a parent to make sure he’s safe and well-prepared for whatever he faces. We are entrusted with our children’s well-being, and we place only part of that trust with them.

We also have responsibilities in other parts of our lives that involve aspects of trust. In every relationship we have, there is trust that we will behave in a civilized way and according to social norms. The deeper the relationship is, the more trust is involved, and in some, trust is absolute, but only when proven over years of experience. Our professional relationships and responsibilities also include significant elements of trust. When we start a job, we might have to account for almost everything we do, but as time goes on and we establish a pattern of responsible behavior, we earn more trust and, in turn, responsibility. Eventually, we also develop trust in colleagues when they have to deliver something we require.

Exploring the dynamics of trust

As our relationships develop, our trust in other people also develops. We start out not counting on anything another person is going to do—we don’t have any experience with them yet. We have certain expectations, and we assume anyone will carry through on something they’ve promised or committed to. But if they don’t, there is probably no significant emotional response. As we get to know someone better, we develop expectations, based on trust, that they will follow certain patterns based on our past experience with them. Depending on the nature of the evolution of that relationship, we may have a significant emotional investment in the trust we place in them. For our established relationships, there will always be an interplay of trust that will ebb and flow based on how the other person and we behave in certain situations. Trust is not firm and unmoving but changes as relationships evolve.

The relationship between trust and emotions is a complicated one. For example, in some of our relationships, we may have a solid degree of trust in the other person, and if they behave in a way that is inconsistent with that trust, we may be surprised, or even shocked, but it doesn’t really affect us on an emotional level. Examples of this might include a coworker who has suddenly stopped performing at an adequate level or a neighbor who we’ve found out is stealing our firewood. We may be indignant or offended but likely not hurt or sad. In other relationships, a small betrayal of trust can have a massive emotional impact. These are generally people who we have allowed to see our inner selves and with whom we have allowed ourselves to be vulnerable. When they betray our trust, even a little, they may damage our innermost emotional landscape that we’ve given them access to. Some people offer this access surprisingly quickly and easily—they want to have that kind of relationship, so they give people that kind of power over them before it has been earned. Others never give anyone this kind of power and don’t allow anyone in. Neither of these situations is helpful and both are rife with risk, the former type of person being hurt badly and often and the latter never having meaningful relationships.

Focus some of that high-powered perception on yourself

Of course, the responsibility for our bonds of trust lies to a significant degree with us. We want those we care about deeply to trust us implicitly. If we realize that on a conscious level and are committed to those bonds of trust, we will likely be successful in earning and keeping that trust. But it’s often the case that we don’t explicitly consider how trustworthy we are, both in our close relationships and in our less intimate relationships. Trust is about both the big things and the little things, and it’s often the little things that can trip us up.

Of course, trust doesn’t mean we have to be everything to everybody. If someone trusts us to do something but we can’t or don’t want to do it, that level of trust was legitimately misplaced. We can’t control the expectations people have about how we’re going to react or behave, and as long as we aren’t giving people a reason to believe we’ve made commitments to act in certain ways, we don’t have a responsibility to act according to their desires or expectations. In other situations, when we have made commitments and have given people a reason to believe they can trust us to behave and act in certain ways, then we should treat that trust as something very valuable. If we betray that trust, we aren’t just harming that relationship—we’re also damaging our own integrity and possibly harming our own self-image. There will always be nuances to this dynamic, and not every unmet expectation is a betrayal of trust, but it’s something we should always keep in mind.

Letting go of responsibility

Don’t put everything on your own shoulders. Many people feel like everyone they know is counting on them for something, trusting them to meet obligations and commitments. But ultimately, it’s up to us what we take responsibility for and what we don’t. We should never let anyone assign us responsibilities that we did not choose and commit to ourselves.

There will also be times in our lives when we must relinquish responsibilities for some reason. Children growing up is a great example. When children are born, parents have the responsibility for literally everything about their lives. As they grow older, the whole relationship is an exercise in the child taking on more responsibility and their parents giving up that responsibility. This is easier for some parents than for others. In some cases, we may see major mistakes our children make but we must allow them to happen. The child now has responsibility for that part of their lives, and the only way they will learn about consequences is to experience them for themselves.

The trust dynamic can tell us a lot about our relationships, and we should observe that dynamic and listen to what it’s telling us. Our bonds of trust define the nature of our relationships.

Trust

It weaves through our lives, pushing and pulling,
   it goes back and forth, once ours and then not.
I can’t always tell if it’s mine or anothers;
   it’s part of myself, if not something I sought.

I need it to be there; I count on its presence.
I need it in others. I need it in me.
When I notice it’s not there, the damage it causes,
   can tear through my soul, ignoring my plea.

I need it in others, as well as myself.
I search for it deeply, in their hearts and their souls.
I do see it often, but often it’s fleeting.
I need it to be there, to make our bond whole.

It ebbs and it flows. Its coming and going
   can upset my balance, and confuse my mind.
I must learn to see it, the patterns and movements,
   so I can see clearly, my bonds intertwined.

When it is given, to me from another,
   one cannot dismiss the weight it does hold
I treat it as sacred, if rightly it’s placed.
It’s worth is profound, with more value than gold.