Linda and Charlie Bloom on Repairing Trust When It's Been Broken

The foundational quality of all relationships is trust.

When it has been broken or damaged, it can and needs to be repaired quickly and completely. And since none of us is perfect, breakdowns in trust are all but inevitable. But here’s the good news: nearly all breakdowns in trust can be repaired and even enhanced their pre-breakdown levels.

For those who would like a starter kit, here are a few guidelines:

·      Acknowledge to your partner that you have a concern and ask if they are open to discussing it either now or at another time

 ·       When the two of you do sit down together, thank your partner for their willingness to address your concern.

 ·      Speak and listen from a feeling perspective without blame or defensiveness.

 ·      Speak in terms of your own concerns, needs, hopes and intention for the conversation, without blame or accusations of your partner.

 ·      Accept responsibility, for your part in the breakdown.

 ·      Let your partner know what would be helpful for you to hear from them that that might help to restore a higher level of mutual trust.

 ·      Invite your partner to share their perspective with you and thank them when they have done so.

 ·      Listen attentively to your partner to your partner when they speak to you and try to stay focused on the situation that activated the breakdown in trust.

 ·      Be willing to apologize when you deem it appropriate without demanding that they do the same.

 ·      Practice forgiveness when you feel the need for it.

 ·      When you feel that there has been some progress in the repair process bring the conversation to a close and express gratitude to your partner for joining you in the conversation.

Most breakdowns in trust require multiple conversations to repair the damage that a breakdown in trust causes. Keep in mind that this is just a starter kit. Most relationships bring multiple opportunities to practice committed listening and respectful speaking, both of which are essential in the process of trust-building and trust repair. It does take work, but it’s a labor of love and it’s worth it!

Find more tips like this in the Bloom’s new book an End to Arguing: 101 Valuable Lessons for All Relationships.

Linda Bloom, LCSW and Charlie Bloom, MSW have been married since 1972. Trained as psychotherapists and relationship counselors, they have worked with individuals, couples, groups, and organizations since 1975 and have lectured and taught at learning institutes throughout the USA and internationally, including the Esalen Institute, the Kripalu Center for Yoga and Health, Northern California Mindfulness Institute, The California Institute for Integral Studies, and the World Health Organization. They have authored five books, including the bestseller, 101 Things I Wish I Knew When I Got Married: Simple Lessons to Make Love Last (over 100,000 sold), Secrets of Great Marriages, Happily Ever After... and 39 Other Myths about Love, That Which Doesn't Kill Us: How One Couple Became Stronger at the Broken Places, and An End to Arguing: 101 Valuable Lessons for All Relationships. They are founders and co-directors of Bloomwork, based in Santa Cruz, California. Check out their YouTube channel.

Norma Watkins on Bad Sex

Young women coming up in the middle of the last century were not supposed to think about sex, much less have any. Sex was what happened after you got married and before you were blessed with a child, preferably male. In middle school, we were shown a film about menstruation, an experience so embarrassing, girls and boys were not allowed to view it together. That was the end of sex education. The lesson appeared to be: after a girl got “the curse,” she could get pregnant, and it was a proper young lady’s responsibility to keep uncontrollable males from going too far. No explanation or excuse for the feelings of lust roiling inside our own bodies. 

Boys set up residence in my head at fourteen, cleaning out what little sense I had. I was obsessed with sex. I thought about it, dreamed about it, and tried to find books that might give me some idea how it was done. Most novels were sadly deceptive, ending love scenes with “and then he took her,” or “the storm echoed their passion.” Even those paltry descriptions filled me with scalded longing. Out there somewhere was perfect lovemaking, and when you found it, when a boy put his thing inside you, bells rang; you fainted into ecstasy; you were fulfilled. Reading about it, I felt pretty sure if a boy got anywhere near me with his thing, it would probably work. 

My first experience, in the back seat of a Buick, turned out to be nasty, painful, and short. At least I didn’t get pregnant. Never mind, I would wait for marriage and real fulfillment. On our wedding night, my new husband nibbled on a breast, pushed inside me, and came. It hurt like hell. After several repeats, I asked when things might get better for me. “Takes time,” he said, “maybe three years.” Three years! None of the magazines I read gave any helpful advice beyond “satisfying your husband.” My friends did not discuss sex, and I was too embarrassed to admit I’d never had an orgasm. 

After giving birth to four children, I finally got up the nerve to ask a doctor for help. I explained the situation while he studied his desk blotter. When I finished, he said, “When my wife and I first moved South, I didn’t like turnip greens, but I ate them a couple times a week and now I like them.” I told him I’d been eating the turnip greens for ten years. 

We were ignorant and I wonder now if ignorance wasn’t built into the system. Men appeared to have no problem with satisfaction, and women who complained too much could be labeled hysterical. If you got overly hysterical, a friendly judge would be happy to place you in an institution. Sex was for procreation and a real lady was not expected to enjoy it. 

Good sex was for bad women, and I finally learned how to be one.  

Norma Watkins has a Ph.D. in English and an M.F.A. in Creative Writing. Her memoir, The Last Resort: Taking the Mississippi Cure, won a gold medal as best non-fiction published in the southeast by an independent publisher. The sequel, That Woman from Mississippi, relates the consequences of impulsivity and exile. She publishes short pieces in newspapers and anthologies (See Stories). Watkins lives with her woodworker husband Les and two cats on the Mendocino Coast of California.

Kristen Loesch on Ideas, Inspiration, and "The Last Russian Doll"

Inspiration is a funny thing. It can come to us like a lightning bolt, through the lyrics of a song, or in the fog of a dream. Ask any writer where their stories come from and you’ll get a myriad of answers, and in that vein I created the WHAT (What the Hell Are you Thinking?) interview. 

Today’s guest for the WHAT is Kristen Loesch, author of The Last Russian Doll, a haunting, epic novel about betrayal, revenge, and redemption that follows three generations of Russian women, from the 1917 revolution to the last days of the Soviet Union, and the enduring love story at the center. The Last Russian Doll releases March 14.

Ideas for our books can come from just about anywhere, and sometimes even we can’t pinpoint exactly how or why. Did you have a specific origin point for your book?

I wouldn’t say there was one specific origin point, but when I started to burn out during my PhD in Slavonic Studies, I enrolled on a two-week creative writing course to get my mind onto something else. During that course, I wrote the first few scenes of a novel set in Russia. I think it was at that point that I realized that it wasn’t my love of research, reading, writing, or Russian history and culture that had diminished, not in the slightest; it just wasn’t going to the right place. I withdrew from my PhD eventually and it would be several years before I attempted a novel, but that was a wake-up call.

Once the original concept existed, how did you build a plot around it?

In the most painful way possible. I took the initial idea and I ran with it and abruptly discovered, in the middle of that first draft, that I had no idea what was supposed to happen next; I had no idea where the story was going. It’s like that moment when you’re swimming off a beach and the ocean floor drops out from under your feet. It’s swift and brutal and weird, because you’re still swimming, nothing has really changed, but you know it. You’ve above the abyss. That’s what that discovery felt like. I scraped my way to the end, but I’ll never forget that feeling. 

Have you ever had the plot firmly in place, only to find it changing as the story moved from your mind to paper?

Over several drafts, the story exploded out of the initial vision for it that I had and took on a life of its own (if you know that famous ‘chestburster’ scene from the film Alien? It was kind of like that…!). Nowadays I tend to think it helps to have a plot outline, even if you don’t necessarily stick to it, and even if you already expect the story to change along the way. I like to have something to fall back on!

Do story ideas come to you often, or is fresh material hard to come by?

Great question. The story ideas come fast and furious. Especially while I’m driving, taking a shower, or trying to fall asleep. In a way this is great, because it keeps me excited and motivated. At the same time it can be frustrating, because there’s not enough time to turn every idea, or even most ideas, into something concrete. I have to choose between them, which leads neatly to your next question…

How do you choose which story to write next, if you’ve got more than one percolating?

I usually go by gut instinct. Novel writing is such a marathon that it really helps to start out with peak enthusiasm, energy, and passion, and often there will be one particular idea, however unformed, that makes me think ‘ooh, that’s the one’. Otherwise, I’ll start out by writing a pitch or a few paragraphs expanding on the initial story idea; some ideas sound good in your head but once they’re on paper you’re like, OK, nobody ever needs to know this crossed my mind, ever.  

I have 6 cats and a Dalmatian (seriously, check my Instagram feed) and I usually have at least one or two snuggling with me when I write. Do you have a writing buddy, or do you find it distracting?

I checked your feed and I’m jealous! I grew up with dogs; my parents still have one, and while I do often claim him as my own, in my household we don’t have any. My children have been clamoring for a pet, though, and they’re finally reaching an age where they could handle some caretaking responsibilities, so all that remains is to convince my husband…stay tuned!

Kristen Loesch grew up in San Francisco. She holds a BA in History, as well as a Master’s degree in Slavonic Studies from the University of Cambridge. Her debut historical novel, The Last Russian Doll, was shortlisted for the Caledonia Novel Award and longlisted for the Bath Novel Award under a different title. After a decade living in Europe, she now resides in the Pacific Northwest with her husband and children.