Simply Intentional: Growing Family Trust
By Beth Norman
Trust. The word itself is inescapably sacred! It's like a rare precious stone. It is something valuable and esteemed. For what is such a small word, sure makes up for its size in it's meaning because of its depth and worth. Trust is the confidence in and reliance on good qualities such as truth and honor, and especially fairness. It's being someone who is expected by others to behave responsibly and honorably, who people place confidence or faith in. When you think about it, nothing can quite compete with having an established trust in a relationship. Trust is integrity; it's honor and protection.
Trust is by no means free - it is earned. It's the perfect result of when actions align with words. That's why it is so valuable and why it is so devastating when it's broken. The rebuilding of trust can often be more precious, because you are striving even harder and most times it's based on forgiveness, the work of another.
As a parent, it takes modeling. It takes time, practice, patience, work, and perseverance. It's sad and disappointing when a child breaks your trust, but it is also difficult being the child who fell from trust. I think it's vital to show my kids the process of restoration on both sides. Making it possible to re-establish trust by making it attainable. As my husband and I set out to teach our children about the meaning of trust, we realize it is sort of like a training field. It's through trial and error that our kids are learning what trust is, how to earn it, how to keep it and how to rebuild it when broken. Each failed attempt hurts and each success is a joyous occasion. During these times, we try to be mindful as we inevitably cling to the big picture. As our children are consciously learning to become trustworthy individuals, they are also subconsciously learning by our example on how they should behave when the time has come for them to be in an adult or parental role with their own kids and relationships.
One effective way in which we have taught our kids about trust is explaining to them that they are the teachers and that we are the responders. That we promise to respond to what they teach us. This way, it puts them in charge of either gaining or loosing privileges and our trust. For instance, if your kids want a later curfew, what have they taught you about adhering to the current one? How about cell phone or computer usage? What have your kids taught you about how they use them? Lying? What have they taught you about their word? This teacher/responder position can effectively remove a portion of anger out of the equation when disciplining or withholding certain privileges because they know it was based on their decisions and actions. We can also agree with them that we want the same thing that they want (more privileges and responsibilities) and rejoice with them when they earn more. It also allows you to be genuinely sympathetic to their disappointments. It puts you both on the same page but places the burden of trust earning to where it belongs, on them. As long as they know that you will act accordingly, I think this has been a great tool in building trust.
Does Your Child Trust You?
Let's talk about the flipside of the parent-child trust. Simply asked, does your child trust you? What a great question! As a mom, I am usually so preoccupied with the notion of me trusting my kids, that asking myself this question was, well, different and maybe a little uncomfortable. I reminisced back to my own childhood and asked myself the same question about my own parents. Both my parents consistently held to good morals and values and in that I found trust. Later, in my late teens or early twenties, my mom told me that no matter what, she had my back. In essence, she gave me permission to "get out" of any situation wherein I may have struggled or felt stuck, with no way out. There was no judgment, just a blanketed "I'll take care of your needs" until you find your way again. She provided that safe zone for me. On some level, I'm sure I knew this, but something wonderful happened when she verbally expressed this to me. Although I never had to use it, just knowing the offer was there, that if I had to start over, made all the difference. When the time is right, I will do the same for my own kids.
Being mindful on how I treat my kids in front of others is of great importance to me. Making it a point not to ever make them feel on the spot or ridiculed in any way or at the expense of a joke. Sometimes we can do this unwittingly, thereby hurting the bond of trust. Owning up to our mistakes and seeking their forgiveness when we, as parents, have been less than what they deserve has also been very meaningful in earning trust.
In preparation for writing this article, I decided to ask each one of my kids whether or not they trusted their dad and me and why. I must confess, it was a bit humbling to place myself in such a vulnerable position. Of course, my fingers were crossed behind my back, as I secretly worried, "what if they don't"! As it turns out, all four of them responded favorably. When asked, "why", here's what they had to say:
"In all my years, you and dad never gave me a reason not to trust you. You have always been genuine and you never lie."
Christopher, 19
"One of the reasons why I trust you and dad is the way you treat each other and that you keep no secrets from one another."
Danielle, 17
"You do what you say and say what you do. There is good communication. You respect one another and us. When someone breaks trust, we can gain it back again, even though it's hard. You never lie. It sounds easy but it is not. Telling the truth even when it is not pleasant. I love the honesty."
Anna, 13
"I just know that your intent is always for my well being, even when I disagree."
Nick, 10
I would encourage any parent to approach their kids and ask them the same question. It provokes good conversation. There is no doubt that trust requires a living, breathing confidence in the thoughtful and intentional decisions we make every day. Trust is work, but well worth the effort.