Trust me, everything will be fine.
- Tiemo

- May 24
- 2 min read

We all know someone who says this. Sometimes out of conviction, sometimes out of habit.
But trust doesn’t work on command. Building trust takes time. And when trust is broken again and again, how likely are we to dare to trust again?
Foundation
When trust is damaged, something happens to people. They withdraw. They become cautious. We see it in organizations, and increasingly in society — often because of a lack of political leadership. The growing discontent in the Netherlands reveals what we already knew: trust is not a side issue. It’s the foundation. And when that foundation is missing, something else takes its place: distrust, distance, and eventually disengagement.
Paradox
In my training sessions, I often use Lencioni’s model — a pyramid that starts with trust. Only when trust is present do people dare to have real conversations, even about difficult topics.That’s when genuine commitment begins to grow.
Among political leaders, we see something different. A lack of trust leads to conflict, and others often pay the price. Commitment is replaced by denial, and when things go wrong, responsibility is shifted elsewhere — the opposite of what we expect from good leadership.
Opportunity
What can we learn from this? In my view, when trust is missing, noise arises.
And if that noise isn’t addressed, distance grows. As that distance widens, commitment fades, and connection disappears. That seems to be exactly what has been happening more and more in recent years.
Parallel
There’s another similarity. Politics is short‑term by nature — time is limited. Bold decisions that are good in the long run can be painful in the short term and may cost votes.
Politicians don’t like that; the next election is never far away. I see the same pattern in organizations. Important long‑term decisions are postponed or avoided — not because people don’t want to decide, but because difficult conversations require courage and integrity. When decisions are delayed, uncertainty grows. And uncertainty erodes trust.
Courage
Courage doesn’t start with big words, but with a quiet choice. Do I trust myself, even when things get difficult? Do I stand for what I believe in — for what feels right or is necessary for the organization — unconditionally, regardless of how others respond?
And do I accept the consequences of those choices? That’s where leadership begins — in politics, in organizations, and within ourselves. I try my best, but I won’t deny that it’s sometimes hard to make unconditional choices with full trust.
And you? Where do you notice trust beginning to waver — in your work or in your life?
And when it does, do you dare to talk about it — with others, or with yourself?




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