✨Trust First, or Earn Trust?

Do we trust first or do we make people earn it?

It’s a question I’ve been sitting with as the year opens.

Growing up and later, through life and work, I’ve seen what happens when trust feels unsafe.

In some spaces, trust isn’t given, it’s tested.

People are expected to prove themselves again and again before they’re truly trusted. They’re pushed into situations without support, closely watched, and judged not just on what they do, but on how well they cope under pressure.

Often, this is meant to build strength or show capability.
But what it really creates is caution.

People stop being open.
They hold back.
They protect themselves.

And when self-protection becomes the norm, trust quietly fades.

As I welcomed the New Year, I was reminded of another way.

Trust opens doors. Sometimes quite literally.

On 31 December 2025, I was standing on the balcony of a very special person, watching the fireworks light up Sydney.

Not at the centre of the crowd.
Not in the noise.

But quietly above it all, trusted enough to be invited into someone’s safe space.

This moment wasn’t built overnight.

It was built through small, consistent acts of presence, care, and mutual respect over the last 19 years with this very special person.

And it struck me:
This moment wasn’t really about fireworks.

It was about trust.

Trust isn’t dramatic. It’s deliberate.

We often talk about trust as if it’s forged in defining moments.

But real trust, the kind that creates safety, openness, and room to grow is built slowly. Quietly. In ordinary moments.

Through:

• presence

• care

• consistency

• mutual respect

And when trust exists, whether with ourselves or with others, it creates something precious:

Trusting ourselves: where it all begins

As we step into a new year, I’ve been reflecting on how often burnout begins with small betrayals of self.

Not listening when we’re tired.
Saying yes when our body has already said no.
Pushing through when rest would be the wiser choice.

Trusting ourselves is often where everything else starts.

How could trusting ourselves in 2026 might look like?

• pausing before committing

• taking a break without explaining or earning it

• backing our own judgment, even when it feels uncomfortable

• letting our energy guide decisions

Self-trust isn’t indulgent.
It’s protective.

Trust with others: built in small ways

Trust with others doesn’t come from being perfect or having all the answers.

It comes from:

• doing what we say we will or communicating early when we can’t

• listening without rushing to fix

• saying “I don’t know yet” when that’s the honest answer

• holding confidentiality with care

• creating space for others to show up as they are

These small acts signal safety.

And safety is what allows relationships, families, teams, and communities to grow.

Trust doesn’t live in individuals alone, it lives in environments

Trust is often framed as something personal — something we choose to give or withhold.

But trust is also shaped by the environments we’re part of.

We can’t expect people to trust if the space around them feels unsafe, for example if mistakes are punished, if vulnerability is met with judgement, or if care is seen as weakness.

In environments like these:

• people stop speaking up

• energy is spent on self-protection

• growth gives way to survival

Burnout doesn’t arrive suddenly.
It settles in quietly.

By contrast, environments that cultivate trust tend to:

• make it safe to be honest

• allow learning without shame

• value care as much as capability

• recognise that people do their best work when they feel safe

In these spaces, trust doesn’t have to be forced.
It’s reinforced — day by day.

Culture answers the question before we do

Every environment answers an unspoken question:

If the answer is no, trust becomes fragile and conditional.

If the answer is yes, trust has room to grow.

People are more willing to take risks.
Energy flows toward contribution, not self-protection.
Growth becomes possible without burning out.

A gentle intention for the year ahead

As 2026 unfolds, this is the intention I’m holding:

Because success without safety is not sustainable.
And ambition without care eventually costs more than it gives.

If you’re reading this in the days after the New Year, I hope things have slowed down enough for you to catch your breath.

May this be a year where your fire fuels you — not consumes you.

Happy New Year,
Mary