Why I Call It “Earned Trust”

by Lisa Marie

I’m a writer and poet, and words have mattered to me for as long as I can remember. But some words get tossed around so often they start to lose their shape.

“Hey, trust me—it’s fine.” “Trust me, I know what I’m talking about.” “Why don’t you just trust yourself?”

It’s not trust itself that’s worn thin—it’s the casualness of how we use it. Trust isn’t casual. It’s sacred. It’s slow. It’s something we build plank by plank, and it sometimes creaks under our feet.

So, what’s your relationship with trust?

Do you walk out your front door trusting the day to go well? Does trust mean safety for you—or something else entirely? Who do you trust most deeply, and how long did it take to get there? And what about those moments when trust was lost—on either side of the bridge?

There are a hundred rabbit holes we could go down here, but when it comes to peer support—and really, to relationships in general—I keep coming back to one simple truth: trust is earned.

When you first meet me as your peer supporter, I don’t assume you trust me. Why would you? We’re strangers. Trust doesn’t appear out of politeness or paperwork.

What builds it is time. What holds it up is action. What strengthens it is commitment.

In peer support, I show up as honestly as I can. I don’t pretend to have it all together. We might stumble, misread, laugh awkwardly—but that’s part of it. That’s the human stuff that is often glossed over.

Over time, through those very ordinary moments, something remarkable can happen: we learn that trust doesn’t have to be blind or instant. It can be earned, slowly and bravely, between two people trying their best to connect in a complicated world.

At the end of the day, that’s what peer support—and life, really—is all about: connection built on earned trust. It might be bumpy, might be awkward, but it will be authentic.