Trust Isn't Earned By Saying Yes
Jun 24, 2025Authored By Linnea Mulholland
When I joined the consultancy, I didn’t expect my first assignment to be a trust rescue mission.
Phase 1 of the project had launched. The documentation was done, and the handoff signed. But emotionally? We were still mid-flight, and our client, Zavelle, was gripping the armrests while I took the controls.
Zavelle had been a high-touch client from day one - well-funded, ambitious, and used to moving fast. Their brand was built on polish and performance, and their internal pressure reflected that. However, their familiar team structure had now shifted. The rules had changed. And with new staffing models, different rhythms, and tighter controls, the emotional center of the relationship felt unstable.
And then there was me. I was new. New to the project, new to the company, unfamiliar with their systems and history. I wasn’t just trying to stabilize the delivery - I was trying to earn credibility in real time, while juggling expectations from both sides.
In the initial build, Zavelle had a dedicated team of developers from our side, with full-time access, constant Slack messages at all hours, and a tight sense of familiarity. When we transitioned into a smaller follow-up engagement, everything shifted. Zavelle was now working with a shared pool of developers on a fractional basis, including the same engineers they had in Phase 1, just no longer dedicated full-time.
On paper, it looked efficient. In reality? It triggered a full-blown trust spiral.
The Red Flags of Relationship Debt
By my first week, I knew something was off.
No matter how fast I responded or how clearly I explained things, Zavelle always replied with the same refrain: “Can you please check with Juno?” Juno was one of the developers who’d worked on their original implementation. It didn’t matter that the information came directly from Juno. If Juno wasn’t physically in the meeting, Zavelle didn’t believe the answer.
Eager to be helpful, I did what most PMs would do: I checked in with Juno. Again. And again. Until their other client work started to slip, their frustrations rose, and Zavelle’s requests got even more demanding. We were burning through hours and goodwill at a terrifying pace.
The instinct in these situations is to give the client what they’re asking for. More access. More time. More familiar faces. But the more we leaned in, the more fragile the relationship became.
It wasn’t working.
Introducing the Trust Reset Loop
This was my first major lesson in phase-based project dynamics, and it shaped how I approach every subsequent inflection point after a launch.
I call it the Trust Reset Loop—a four-part model that I return to whenever a client’s confidence is wobbly and the team is feeling the strain.
- Listen: Understand what they want.
- Reframe: Set expectations that support team sustainability
- Prove: Deliver on timelines, show competence
- Repeat: Stay consistent until the new normal becomes safe
Step 1: Listen (What’s Broken?)
On the surface, Zavelle was asking for more access to Juno. But once I stepped back, it became clear: this wasn’t really about proximity. It was about fear.
They didn’t feel safe handing off requests without Juno’s name attached. Every ask for Juno was a proxy for “I don’t trust this will be done right.”
And that fear made sense. They’d had a close-knit team in Phase 1. We’d changed the format, without changing the emotional expectations.
Even worse, our attempts to appease them were backfiring. By reinforcing the idea that only certain people had the answers, we undermined the credibility of the rest of our team and created bottlenecks for every other client we supported.
The first reset was mine: stop reacting to the symptom and start addressing the root cause.
Step 2: Reframe (Reshape the Relationship)
With that clarity, I changed the narrative.
Instead of trying to meet every request with the usual faces, I started introducing other strong developers by name. “Juno isn’t available, but I’ve had one of our most senior developers, Tess, take a look,” I said it even when Juno technically was available - because the goal wasn’t about the fastest response. It was about building resilience.
I also worked with the team to make sure our delivery was paired with credibility. What level of detail helped Zavelle feel confident? What type of language de-escalated the urgency without dismissing their concerns? We iterated together, preparing updates and reviewing handoff plans to ensure our responses were clear and considered, not reactive.
Coaching the team was half strategy, half morale management. Some of them were understandably nervous, especially when a strong opinion from Zavelle clashed with our own best practices. I worked to make those moments feel like shared problem-solving, not interrogation.
I also had to balance holding boundaries with modeling empathy. When things went wrong (and occasionally, they did), I didn’t throw anyone under the bus. Instead, I provided context, shaped the next steps, and ensured the client saw that we were learning, not scrambling. The goal wasn’t perfection - it was psychological safety on both sides of the call.
I spent a considerable amount of time on internal diplomacy.
There were still voices on our side who truly believed that the answer was more access. If Zavelle wanted Juno, they should get Juno. Just keep them happy. As a new PM in the organization, I didn’t have much internal influence yet, and it showed. I often had to advocate quietly, using data from hours burned or velocity shifts to make the case for a different approach.
Not every new team member was immediately ready for prime time. There were real quality gaps to manage. I found myself doing additional coaching and escalation work - things that weren’t technically in scope, but were necessary for the health of the relationship. It wasn’t always fair, and it wasn’t always acknowledged, but it was the job.
Step 3: Prove (Let the Work Speak)
There was no quick win.
For months, I showed up with calm consistency. We met our SLAs. We gave regular updates - sometimes daily, occasionally hourly. I made sure every small success was shared out loud, especially when it came from someone other than Juno.
We got proactive about pre-empting frustrations. If something was delayed, we took ownership of it early. If something went well, we connected it back to the team’s process, rather than just individual heroics.
I’ll be honest - self-doubt crept in. I wondered: What if Zavelle is right? What if Juno is the only one who can keep this afloat? Some of our other developers were still learning, and in a few cases, we had to discount hours due to early errors. When a mistake occurred, I not only had to explain it to the client, but I also had to decide whether to fight to protect the team’s credibility or concede to rebuild goodwill.
However, I knew the only path forward was to strengthen the system, rather than relying too heavily on individuals. So we held the line.
And then, one day, about 6 months in, I noticed something had shifted.
Slowly, Zavelle had stopped asking for specific names.
No more “Can you check with Juno?” No more safety blanket requests. They were trusting the process - and the people behind it.
Step 4: Repeat (Normalize the New)
I didn’t cut off access to Juno entirely, but I was intentional. They popped in for strategic milestones, gave occasional visibility, and then stepped back. Enough presence to stay familiar. Not enough to reinforce dependency.
And the trust continued to grow.
The first time Zavelle specifically requested Tess, not Juno, I knew we were making progress. Soon after, they began looping us in earlier for planning discussions. They started sending us light roadmaps, inviting us to provide feedback. It wasn’t smooth or easy - their expectations remained high, sometimes wildly so - but they had stopped bypassing me or calling around to double-check everything. That shift was everything.
A year into the engagement, Zavelle became a reference account. They went from trying to have me removed to fully trusting my leadership and our team’s capabilities. As new developers joined the project, they were trusted right away - not because they were known, but because Zavelle now believed we knew what we were doing.
How It Changed Me
That experience didn’t just help me earn Zavelle’s trust - it reshaped how I show up as a PM.
I’ve reused the Trust Reset Loop many times since - not always consciously, but as a mindset. I look for patterns beneath requests. I build onboarding plans that preempt fear. I give my team room to grow without needing to be perfect from day one.
And maybe most importantly, I’ve learned that trust is rarely won in the high moments. It’s built quietly, in how we show up, when it would be easier to give in.
Final Thoughts: What I’d Tell Any PM in the Same Spot
Rebuilding trust isn’t about saying yes. It’s about going deeper.
When a client is spiraling, it’s tempting to give them what they’re asking for - just to stop the noise. However, sometimes the request itself is the problem. Boundaries can feel uncomfortable in the short term, but they’re essential for building long-term confidence on both sides.
The Trust Reset Loop has become my go-to, whether I’m navigating a rocky project continuation, a new team structure, or a major shift in delivery model.
- Listen to the fear under the mask.
- Reframe the path forward with intention.
- Prove the system works with visible consistency.
- Repeat until calm becomes the norm.
It’s not just about meeting expectations. It’s about leading them.
Trust doesn’t come from unlimited access.
It comes from pattern, clarity, and follow-through.
And that’s something we can deliver.
Contributor Bio
Linnea is a PMP-certified project manager and systems thinker who specializes in making complex delivery work feel less chaotic for clients, teams, and the people caught in between. She’s known for making even the gnarliest projects feel manageable, often stepping in midstream to stabilize delivery, rebuild trust, or sort out what’s going on. She brings a calm presence, sharp instincts, and a strong bias toward clarity, even when the path forward is murky. Outside of work, she’s walking her Labrador puppy, baking something delicious, or planning her next trip.
Connect on LinkedIn: Linnea Mulholland
