
When I moved to Virginia from New Jersey, one of the most upsetting things was leaving my barber behind. Mand’s Barbershop in Hackettstown was the best find the year prior to my move. The owner, Amanda Sunshine, cut my hair perfectly, is a great conversationalist, remembers exactly what I want done, plays good music, and is just all-around awesome. For the first few years, I delayed haircuts just to travel back to New Jersey — literally for a haircut. I’ve found people who’ve done a passable job since, but no one has replaced Mand’s. Finding a barber takes time because it comes down to trust.

In a few months, I’ll be moving again. The search for a barber continues, but this time I’m leaving behind a good mechanic — Ed’s Automotive in Lynchburg. That may be an even bigger trust factor. With modern cars, the possibility of being “taken for a ride” always exists. I was glad to find Ed’s. They fixed a problem another mechanic may have created. But once again, I have to leave that trust behind for a new zip code. Even with all of today’s technology, you can’t take everything with you.
The essence of trust is consistency, not perfection. No one delivers perfect results — not barbers, not mechanics, not spouses, not colleagues. Trust is built in the ordinary repetitions. Showing up. Doing the work. Owning the mistake. Doing it again tomorrow.
Most of the world measures everything in dollars. But money isn’t the only currency we trade in. Trust is harder to calculate, but far more valuable. You can’t Venmo it. You can’t download it. And when you move, you can’t pack it in a box and take it with you.
I can’t take my barber or my mechanic with me. But wherever I go, I’ll be there. And at that point, it’s on me.
It’s my job to build trust. Not just look for it.
Day by day. Moment by moment.
You have to build it again.
Maybe that’s the point.
Pete