Yes, I Broke Trust. Here’s How I Rebuilt It.
Trust isn’t just about who you are — it’s about how you show up. Here’s how I learned that the hard way — and how I now work to earn it back.
I remember it like it was yesterday — early in my career, walking into a conference room where two of my reporters were already deep in conversation. They didn’t see or hear me enter, so they just kept talking.
And then I heard one of them say:
“Come on, you know Yoni only beats us because he cares so much.”
I suddenly felt like I couldn’t breathe. It was like someone had punched me in the gut.
I don’t remember what was said next, or even how the rest of that meeting went. But I do remember this: I changed how I behaved. Because in that moment, I realized I didn’t have their trust.
Remember the 3, 4, or even 5 C’s of trust? That conversation called into question three of them: caring, character, and communication — all essential components of leadership credibility.
It wasn’t intentional. I wasn’t trying to manipulate, mislead, or hide anything. But something I said — or didn’t say — or how I carried myself — had shifted how they saw me.
And the hardest part?
I knew they were right.
I just didn’t know how to say: “I’m sorry.”
At the time, without the experience or perspective I have now, I thought I could just move forward as a newer, “better” version of myself.
But years later, I learned: that’s not how you rebuild trust.
I’m not alone in that. For many leaders, an apology feels like a threat to authority — an admission that chips away at confidence. But what I’ve learned is that not apologizing is far more dangerous. Because once trust starts to erode, the cracks spread quickly and quietly.
In that situation, I softened my approach. I was kinder, more attentive — and soon after, I got a new job at a bigger newspaper. Whether I had dealt with it or simply moved on is, honestly, debatable.
But today?
I wouldn’t hesitate to apologize.
Over time, I’ve learned that showing humility, accountability, and character isn’t a liability. It’s leadership. The simple act of saying what I should have done, should have said, or should have tried — that vulnerability — often builds a stronger bond than if trust had never been broken.
So what does rebuilding trust actually look like?
There’s no single script. But here’s what I’ve found works, again and again — whether you’re leading a newsroom, a nonprofit, or a team of two:
🔄 1. Own It Out Loud
It starts with the words: I was wrong.
Not “I’m sorry if…” Not “That wasn’t my intent…” But a direct, clean, no-spin acknowledgment that you made a mistake. People can forgive a lot — but only after you name the thing that needs forgiveness.
👂 2. Create Space for Feedback (and Discomfort)
Trust isn’t just about what you say — it’s about what they feel safe saying in return.
After you’ve apologized, ask what impact your actions had. And then listen. Fully. Without correcting. Without rushing to fix it in the same breath. Just sit with the answer.
🔁 3. Follow Through, Even When No One’s Watching
Rebuilding trust doesn’t happen in a town hall — it happens in the follow-up email, the 1:1 check-in, the decision-making meeting where you actually act differently.
The consistency of your next 10 small actions will matter more than one big apology.
🪞 4. Don’t Confuse Good Intentions with Good Leadership
This one took me a while. You can care deeply, have the right motives, and still lose someone’s trust. “But I meant well” is a comfort blanket for the person who broke trust — not the one who experienced it.
Let go of being right, and focus on being better.
Final Thought: Rebuilding Trust Is a Skill, Not Just a Value
We talk about trust like it’s some innate quality — either you have it or you don’t. But rebuilding trust is a skillset: it’s emotional intelligence, it’s humility, and it’s behavioral follow-through.
Like any skill, it improves with practice.
You just have to start — with honesty.
✍️ I’d love to hear from you:
Have you ever had to rebuild trust as a leader? Or had a leader earn yours back the hard way? What worked — and what didn’t?
Drop a comment or reply. These are the conversations that make us better.