Can Trust Come Back?
Yes, and almost never through the grand gesture. It returns in small, boring moments that add up.
Six months after the worst day of their marriage, Imran is stuck behind a lorry on the flyover.
He calls Nisha. “I am going to be twenty minutes late. I have shared my location. Do you need anything from the shop?”
It is the least romantic phone call imaginable. Nisha, standing at the stove, notices her shoulders come down from around her ears. She had not known they were up there.
Later she will say that this call did more than the bouquet, the long letter and the weekend away put together. Why would that be?
Why the grand gesture falls flat
The psychologist Shirley Glass explains it with an image anyone can follow.1 Someone hands you a cheque and it bounces. They hand you a second and swear it is good. It bounces too. When the third arrives, you do not take their word for it. You phone the bank. You will keep phoning the bank for a long time.
Trust is rebuilt by cheques that clear. Many of them, small ones, over months.
Trust has three layers
Psychologists John Rempel, John Holmes and Mark Zanna described trust in three parts.2 Predictability: they do what they say. Dependability: you can count on the kind of person they are. Faith: you feel sure about the future together.
A betrayal knocks down all three. They come back in order, from the bottom. Imran’s phone call is a predictability brick. Nobody can skip to faith.
The account is overdrawn
Glass pictures every relationship as holding a reserve of goodwill, like a joint account. Kindness is a deposit. Hurt is a withdrawal. An affair empties it.
She draws on two findings worth knowing whether or not you are in crisis. John Gottman, studying more than 2,000 couples, found that satisfied couples kept about five positive moments for every negative one. And the researchers Cliff Notarius and Howard Markman found that a single cutting remark can wipe out twenty acts of kindness.
The arithmetic is plain. Many small deposits. No cutting remarks. The researcher Brené Brown uses a similar image, a jar that slowly fills with marbles, one small trustworthy act at a time.3
Give what they want, not what you would want
Most of us give what we would like to receive. The person who loves words writes long messages. The person who loves practical help fixes the tap. Each feels unappreciated.
Glass rewrote the golden rule for couples: give to your partner in the way your partner likes to give to you. She calls a gift that lands exactly where it is wanted bullseye caring.
Do it before you feel it
Many of us wait to feel loving before we act lovingly. Glass reverses the order. Do the loving thing, and the feeling often follows. She also warns against keeping score. “I will be kind when you are” is a way of never beginning.
Listen the way a stranger did
People in affairs often say the other person understood them. What does that usually mean? That the other person listened well. This is a skill, and it can come home.
Make room for the ordinary
A husband in Glass’s book describes picking up a table tennis bat with his wife, months after his affair. Within minutes they were laughing as they had years before. That was when he knew he could not leave.
Recovery needs these islands: time together when the affair is not mentioned at all. A walk. A meal. At dinner, try a ritual Glass borrows from a film. Each person shares the high point and the low point of their day.
When this is not enough. Rebuilding trust is hard to do alone. If months pass with no change, or every attempt ends in a fight, a couples therapist can help. If you are afraid of your partner, call the Women Helpline on 181 or emergency services on 112. Need to talk to someone now? Tele MANAS is free, day and night, on 14416.