In active addiction I lied to protect my using. In recovery, I had to face what that did to the people I love, and to myself. This is what it really takes to rebuild trust, one choice at a time.
Addiction made me lie. I lied to people, a lot. About where I was, what I was doing, how much I was using and I lied about not needing help. Sometimes I lied to keep the addiction going. Other times it was because I genuinely believed the lie in that moment, because the truth was too painful to face. And sometimes I lied because I didn’t want to see the look in their eyes. That mix of hurt, disbelief and fear.
And even now, even after all the work, all the honesty, all the recovery, there are moments when I still wonder:
Can I ever really be trusted again?
Why This Question Matters
If you’re reading this and you’re in recovery, you probably know what I mean. That lingering guilt, the second-guessing when someone hesitates before they believe you. That sharp sting when you say something true and it’s met with suspicion, I know it all too well.
If you’re someone who loved someone in addiction, maybe you’re asking this too, from the other side.
“How will I know they’re not just telling me what I want to hear?”
“What if I let myself trust them and I get hurt…again?”
This feeling is at the core of so many recovery journeys, and that’s not because we intentionally set out to hurt the people we care about. It’s because addiction often disconnects us from the actual truth, so when you lie long enough, it becomes hard to recognise what’s real.
Sure; rebuilding trust means proving something to other people. But it’s also about learning to trust yourself again and that can take time.
Lying Becomes Part of Survival…
There’s no way to soften it. Addiction doesn’t just devastate your health or your finances; it destroys the trust between you and the people who care about you.
In your mind, you’re telling yourself: “I’m not hurting anyone,” or “I’ll stop tomorrow.” And justifying it with: “They wouldn’t understand,” “If they knew the truth, they’d leave me.”
Lying becomes part of survival. Hiding evidence, making excuses and manipulating the timeline. You cry and say, this is the last time, when deep down you’re not even sure you mean it.
And when you do mean it, during times when you’re genuinely trying to change, that old pattern of dishonesty doesn’t just disappear overnight.
Recovery asks us to look in the mirror and own that, but it also asks us to move forward.
What Rebuilding Trust Actually Looks Like
There’s no quick fix to regaining people’s trust because it’s not something you can just ask for. It has to be shown, over and over again.
In early recovery, I wanted people to believe me straight away. I remember even feeling offended after announcing I was “just popping out with the car”, and being told I wasn’t allowed to drive.
“But I’m telling the truth now.”
“I’m really trying.”
“Don’t you see how much I’ve changed?”
But trust doesn’t work that way, especially when we’ve said those exact words before and then gone back to using.
At first, it felt unbearable. Like I was being punished for my honesty. But what I learned (slowly, and not without some ego bruising) is that trust isn’t a reward for good behaviour. It’s a vital part of any relationship and has to be rebuilt brick by brick.
What That Looked Like for Me:
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Telling the truth, even when it made me look bad
Especially when it made me look bad. Telling someone I was struggling instead of pretending I was fine felt like ripping off a mask I’d worn for years. Years of people pleasing meant I would rather lie about being busy if I didn’t want to go somewhere. And yet here I was in recovery, responding with a straight-up “no thanks, I don’t feel like it.” Wild. -
Following through on the small things
If I said I’d call, I called. If I said I’d be there, I showed up. It didn’t always feel significant, but every time I did what I said I would, I laid another tiny stone in the rebuilding process. -
Letting people be sceptical without taking it personally
Now this one was hard. But I had to keep reminding myself that it wasn’t because I was unworthy. People were deeply hurt, and healing takes time on both sides. -
Being open about relapse triggers and thoughts, not just when things were going well
Honesty isn’t just saying “I’m clean.” It’s also saying “I’m struggling today.” Or “I had a using dream last night and it shook me.” Those moments of openness are what create real connection.
It Doesn’t Have to Be Perfect!
If I could give you any advice, it would be to remind you that this isn’t about perfection. You just have to be consistent, transparent and patient with others, but also with yourself.
And if you’re someone on the other side and care about someone in recovery, it’s okay to take your time too. You’re allowed to protect yourself while they prove, slowly, that things are different now.
Can I Trust Myself Again?
This was the part no one warned me about. I expected other people not to trust me, and I totally understood why they were hesitant and scared of getting their hopes up.
What I didn’t expect was how hard it would be to trust myself. After years of making promises I couldn’t keep, to others, but especially to myself, I started to believe I wasn’t capable of change. Every time I said, “That’s the last time,” and it wasn’t, it chipped away at my self-belief. Until eventually, I didn’t believe me either.
So even in recovery, even after weeks or months or years clean, there were moments where that voice crept in: “What if this is all temporary?” “You’ll mess it up eventually.”.
That’s the quiet shame of addiction. Even when the substances are gone, the self-doubt lingers. And it takes work, daily, uncomfortable, beautiful work, to begin trusting your own instincts again.
What Helped Me Rebuild Self-Trust:
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Keeping small promises to myself
Not dramatic ones. Simple ones.
“I’ll go for that walk.”
“I’ll make that call.”
“I’ll tell the truth, even if my voice shakes.”
Every time I followed through, I built evidence that I was someone worth believing. -
Owning my story without defending it
Not excusing, not justifying or trying to spin it so it didn’t seem so bad. Just being real about it. Saying, “Yeah. I lied. I stole. I hurt people. And I’m working every day to be someone different now.” -
Learning to sit with discomfort instead of escaping it
Trusting yourself means knowing you can handle hard feelings without running. That you can feel regret without collapsing into shame, and that you can feel cravings without acting on them. That’s what real strength looks like. -
Letting go of who I thought I had to be, and making peace with who I actually am
I’m someone in recovery, I’m someone imperfect. I’ve made mistakes, but I’m also brave enough to face them.
My Final Word For Both Sides
If you’re in recovery and you’re asking, “Will people ever trust me again?” – the answer is yes. But not in the way you might think. It won’t happen by forcing people to believe you or pretending the past didn’t happen. But by showing up, consistently.
And if you love someone who’s in recovery, but you’re not sure you’ll be able to trust them again, you will. As long as they’re doing the work, being honest and showing up… not just when it’s convenient. But take your time because your healing matters too.
Addiction made me lie, but recovery is helping me tell the truth.
