Struggling with Mistrust After Betrayal: Leading Through Connection Even When Trust is Broken
Trust can be broken early in life, and when it is, it affects how you show up at work and in leadership. This story shares how betrayal created a cautious way of engaging with others, and how choosing authenticity, consistency, and connection can rebuild trust for yourself and those you lead. No matter the past, trust can be restored through intention and integrity.
Presence turns ordinary moments into meaningful connections. Here, we celebrate warmth, empathy, and authentic engagement, the art of being truly with others. Explore ways to build community, listen deeply, and let your energy create belonging.
Trust is easy to break and hard to build. I learned early that what people say and what they do often don’t match, which changed how I lead, engage, and show up.
Rebuilding Trust in Self and Systems
Reflective Note: As you read, reflect on the relationships you lead or serve within, the ones shaped by unspoken history, unfulfilled promises, and the ways your own trust has been tested. What does genuine connection look like when trust is fractured?
From a young age, I learned the hard lesson: trust can be betrayed.
I was molested. I carried the silence. I came to America and confided in my aunt, who had committed to protect me, yet allowed my pain to continue. At six years old, I heard promises (“No man will stay in the home”) and immediately noticed the lie when I saw one. This realization embedded deep mistrust.
As I moved into the workforce in early childhood education, in roles as director, education coordinator, and education manager, I observed how leaders claimed one thing and did another. Promises went unfulfilled, transparency was lacking, and hidden biases influenced decisions. One day, I was told I was fully qualified for a position, then passed over for reasons never fully disclosed, reinforcing what I already suspected: promises can be broken.
And it did more than erode trust. It made me second-guess everything.
I questioned every promise. I overthought every interaction. A sense of anxiety quietly took hold, wondering if I could trust the words spoken, whether help offered was genuine, or if I would once again be let down. That constant vigilance breeds fatigue.
Yet there was another voice in me: This cannot define how I lead.
I refused to be molded into a bitter leader. Instead, I chose a different path because the children, staff, and communities I served deserved authenticity. I believed my past was not only about what happened to me, but about what I’d do with it.
In my leadership journey, I pledged to be as honest and transparent as possible with my staff, because I know what it is to lead from a place of caution and uncertainty. I know what it’s like to wait for the other shoe to drop. And so, I offer consistency, presence, and integrity.
Not everyone welcomes that kind of authenticity. Some prefer comfort over challenge; they prefer being soothed rather than seeing truths. That’s okay. But I will not trade authenticity for approval.
Trust in an organization is harder when the past has taught you to question. But it can be restored, for you, for your team, and for those who will follow. My purpose remains: to return to the community where I grew up and say, "Your past does not disqualify you." Someone else’s broken promise does not define your potential. Your trust can be healed through your integrity, your consistency, and your willingness to lead in connection.
Wellness Insight
Organizational trust is more than a nice-to-have; it’s a cornerstone of engagement, well-being, and performance. Research shows that when leaders consistently demonstrate authenticity and follow-through, they build higher levels of psychological safety and staff resilience. (Harvard Business Review) Moreover, when individuals carry histories of betrayal or mistrust, they are more prone to anxiety, overthinking, and second-guessing decisions in the workplace, which affects presence, focus, and relational capacity. (Frontiers in Psychology, On Trust and Workplace Anxiety) Therefore, leaders who offer aligned action, where words and deeds match, nurture connection, rebuild engagement, and transform mistrust into meaningful collaboration.
Reflection for Readers
What promises (spoken or unspoken) have you seen broken, by others or by yourself?
How has mistrust influenced the way you lead or engage with your team?
What concrete step can you take today to show consistency between your words and your actions?
Key Takeaway
Trust is a foundation.
When it’s fractured, how you rebuild matters.
Lead with transparency. Honor your commitments. Choose connection over protection.
Organizational Bridge to SILWELL-C
This story reminds organizations that each person carries a story of trust, betrayal, or guarded hope, and those stories influence how they show up. In organizational culture, it’s not enough to assign roles and leave them at that. Authentic leadership recognizes the human story behind the role and invites connection, consistency, and authenticity. With SILWELL-C, we help organizations move from performance-only metrics to people-first cultures where trust isn’t assumed, it’s earned and renewed.
Organizational Reflection
Who on your team is operating with guarded trust rather than open engagement?
Which organizational practices might inadvertently reinforce mistrust (e.g., broken promises, opaque decisions, inconsistent messaging)?
What systems can you implement to ensure that words and actions align — building trust through visible behaviors?
Where story meets science, strength grows through understanding.
Kampmann, A. (2022). Using Storytelling to Promote Organizational Resilience. Springer. [https://link.springer.com/article/10.1007/s41471-022-00143-x]
“How Leaders Build Trust.” Harrietbrace Editor, Harvard Business Review. May 2023. [https://hbr.org/2023/05/what-makes-storytelling-so-effective-for-learning]
“The Effect of Servant Leadership on Work Resilience.” (2022). Frontiers in Psychology. [https://www.frontiersin.org/articles/10.3389/fpsyg.2025.1441660/full]
Sasse-Werhahn, N. et al. (2023). Narratives as a Tool for Practically Wise Leadership. Humanistic Management Journal. [https://link.springer.com/article/10.1007/s41463-023-00148-6]
Love’s Unraveling: When Connection Breaks
I spent twenty years trying to hold love together, even as the truth kept breaking it apart. When I finally caught him, I thought I’d shatter, but instead, I breathed. The truth hurt, but it also set me free. Love’s unraveling taught me that peace doesn’t come from being chosen—it comes from finally choosing yourself.
Presence turns ordinary moments into meaningful connections. Here, we celebrate warmth, empathy, and authentic engagement, the art of being truly with others. Explore ways to build community, listen deeply, and let your energy create belonging.
When love is pursued before trust has roots, connection can feel like comfort, until the truth asks to be seen.
Reflective Note
This story explores betrayal and the unraveling of emotional trust within marriage. It may bring up feelings of hurt, anger, or sadness. Take your time as you read, breathe when you need to, and remember that healing begins when we face the truth with compassion, for ourselves first.
I married at twenty-seven, searching for love and connection, maybe for someone to finally love me. I had never really felt loved before, so when this man appeared with perfect words and constant attention, it felt like the answer. He sent flowers every week, listened to every detail, and made things happen easily.
Truthfully, I wasn’t ready to marry him. I had just come out of a painful engagement and wanted time to heal. But he was persistent, persuasive, and everyone around me urged me to give him a chance. Don’t let the past block your future, they said. So against my instincts, I did.
We got married, and a year later, we had our first child. He was in the military; I owned a home in Southern California, but we soon moved to Northern California, far from family and friends. I stayed home caring for our baby while he worked. When he returned from long days, he was tired and did not want to engage in much talking. I cooked, cleaned, managed bills, saved money, and tried to be a “good wife.”
He went away to war when it first started in 2002, and I took care of everything: the house, his debts, and the responsibilities. When he returned, things seemed okay for a while, but we still argued often. I carried childhood pain that he didn’t want to hear about. “Stop talking about the past,” he’d say. “You’re just having a pity party.” But silence never heals; it only buries pain alive.
Over time, I realized he had brought his own hidden wounds and addictions. He was a serial cheater. I discovered clues through cell-phone bills, data charges, and excuses. One day in Northern California, while searching for a charger, I found a prepaid phone tucked in a drawer. When I powered it on, there were messages from more than thirty women.
The shock hit hard. When I confronted him, he destroyed the phone overnight to protect himself, telling me, “I couldn’t let anyone get their hands on that evidence.” I felt humiliated, trapped between disbelief and fury. Still, I tried to make it work for the children. At my sister’s urging, I stayed. He agreed to therapy, but quit after two months: “I don’t have a problem; I can stop anytime.”
Nothing changed. The arguments, the insults, the betrayals continued. Part of me needed undeniable proof to see it with my own eyes before I could let go.
Then came the Southern part of Nevada. He had insisted I not visit during two specific weeks, which only deepened my suspicion. On my first day off work, I drove there unannounced and caught him with another woman in our home.
The scene was cruel. He was cold, dismissive, and treated me like I was nothing. That woman sat comfortably among our family photos. Everything the lies, the disrespect, the depth of deceit, was on full display. Years of hope collapsed in one moment.
I lost control. I yelled, cried, threw things, and screamed loud enough for the neighbors to gather outside. But when I drove away from that house, something inside me became still. I felt relief. The fog cleared. I knew the marriage was over. No more explanations. No more chances.
After twenty years of shared life, betrayal gave me clarity: love without honesty is not love.
“When I finally caught him, I thought I’d break, but instead, I breathed. The truth hurt, but it also set me free.”
Sometimes, connection is mistaken for rescue. We fall for the promise of being seen, not realizing that love built on loneliness cannot hold us. Betrayal shatters more than trust; it confronts the illusions we built to feel safe.
Healing after betrayal means learning to reconnect with yourself first. It means rebuilding faith not in another person’s promises, but in your own intuition, the voice that knew all along. Real connection begins when we no longer abandon ourselves for love.
Where story meets science, strength grows through understanding.
“Love and Infidelity: Causes and Consequences”
Available via PubMed Central (open access) PMC
This article discusses how infidelity can impact both partners emotionally, psychologically, and relationally, including how betrayal affects trust, mental health, and relational dynamics.
“Post-traumatic Stress and Psychological Health Following Infidelity in Unmarried Young Adults”
Full text available via ResearchGate / PMC sources ResearchGate+1
This study explores how infidelity may produce PTSD-like symptoms (intrusive thoughts, anxiety, stress) and how those symptoms relate to depressive and anxiety outcomes.
When Love Wasn’t Enough
I was twenty-seven when I got married, still searching for who I was. For years, I tried to make love work, believing I could fix what was broken if I just gave more of myself. But after decades of betrayal and exhaustion, I realized healing doesn’t mean you never loved them, it means you finally started loving yourself. Real connection begins when you stop chasing completion and start becoming whole.
Presence turns ordinary moments into meaningful connections. Here, we celebrate warmth, empathy, and authentic engagement, the art of being truly with others. Explore ways to build community, listen deeply, and let your energy create belonging.
Presence turns moments into connection.
Sensitive Topic: The following story contains references to infidelity, emotional healing, and self-discovery, which may be distressing for some readers. Please proceed with care and attention to your well-being.
I was twenty-seven when I got married, but the truth is, I was still trying to figure out who I was.
Before that, I had been engaged once, young and hopeful, convinced that love alone could fill the empty places inside me. When that engagement ended, I carried the heartbreak quietly, believing that maybe I just wasn’t enough.
When I met my ex-husband, I wanted love to work more than I wanted to understand it. He was charming, attentive, and said all the things I had longed to hear. At the time, he was in the military, far from his family, often stationed in unfamiliar places, searching for something that would make him feel grounded and less alone. I, on the other hand, wanted a family because I was searching for love, for a sense of belonging, for something steady that could fill the emptiness I felt inside.
We were both looking for connection, just in different ways. He sought companionship to ease the distance from his world, and I yearned for a bond that would heal the distance within my heart. But when two people are trying to fill different voids, even love can start to feel like reaching for something that isn’t there.
We were together for twenty years, married for twenty-two, moving from state to state, building homes, raising children. On the outside, it looked like a perfect life. But inside, I was exhausted. I was constantly trying to fix what was breaking, to make peace where trust had already been lost. The infidelity was relentless, and every betrayal reopened old wounds, the same wounds of not being protected and not being chosen.
When I finally filed for divorce, it wasn’t out of anger. It was out of survival. I realized that staying meant losing myself completely. After the divorce, I started reading, journaling, and confronting my own patterns, the way I gave too much, loved too hard, and expected someone else to complete me.
What I learned was that love doesn’t heal what you refuse to face, and authentic connection can’t exist when you’re disconnected from yourself.
“Healing doesn’t mean you never loved them. It means you finally started loving yourself.”
I once thought love was something I had to earn. Now I know connection begins when you stop chasing and start becoming. It’s not about finding someone who completes you; it’s about becoming whole enough to meet someone as you are.
Where story meets science, every insight builds a bridge.
Adult attachment patterns influence how we seek closeness, regulate emotions, and build safe bonds; EFT utilizes this science to enhance connection.
Good sources: Martino, J. et al. (2015). The Connection Prescription: Using the Power of Social Connection to Improve Health and Well-Being.
“There is significant evidence that social support and feeling connected can help people maintain physical health, manage stress, reduce depressive symptoms, and improve overall mental health.”
PMC – The Connection Prescription (2015) pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov

