The ABCs of Rejection and Betrayal

I was rejected by my father and my mother was an emotionally unavailable teen mom. I spent my early years living in a variety of different settings, sometimes with my mom and sometimes not. I was often alone as a child and filled much of the time reading. Books were a window into the world beyond my circumstances. At age 14, I found my father and lived with him for one year before he died prematurely from liver damage as a result of years of drug and alcohol abuse. I went back to live with my mother and left home as soon as I turned 18. I was broken, but determined to succeed. Survival was my armor and my guide.

My turbulent childhood caused me to live a life detached from people. I erected internal walls to protect myself. I walked around like a normal person, but deep down I was always on high alert; always waiting for the other shoe to drop. I had friendships and romantic relationships, but as soon as something happened to trigger even a hint of rejection I would just move on. I spent my twenties trying to break free of the negativity that was weighing so heavily on my spirit. I longed to be light and loved and free. I threw myself into making the most out of my life, to overcome the adversity of my beginning. Looking back, it is clear I was seeking significance and security in accomplishments. I was seeking a place to fly. I checked all the boxes: church, college, career and then marriage.

From the very beginning of my marriage there were red flags that I ignored, shrugging them off as growing pains. I mean what did I know about a healthy marriage? And besides, he had wooed and pursued me with effort that would rival any Hallmark Channel love story. Fast forward 11 years and I was betrayed (and manipulated) by the man who had promised to love and cherish me until death. We would rumble on another eight years, locked on a toxic rollercoaster of a relationship before I decided to turn in my tokens and exit the ride.

Betrayal hit me like a ton of bricks; completely unhinged me in depth of my soul. It seemed so much harder for me to work through than the abandonment and rejection from my parents. I berated myself for not being careful enough with who I let in, for not seeing the signs, for being weak. It triggered those old tired thoughts that whispered, “you are not good enough, you are not worthy of commitment, you aren’t lovable.” I began to realize that it was all connected and set about getting free once and for all.

Anger and Acceptance

My go-to emotion in this situation was anger: anger at the person(s) for their carelessness, anger at myself for losing control, for being open and in the position (marriage) to even be hurt in the first place. I felt so deceived and confused. We were believers, we prayed together and attended church. But I had to face the reality that relationships are messy and we all have baggage. Marriages can only thrive when both people do the work to bring their mess into the light of day. But I was the only one committed to that hard and painful inner healing work. Along the way, I discovered that perfection was at the root of my unhealthy anger.

The intensity of anger beneath the surface made me come face to face with myself in a way that magnified the ugly and debilitating impact that perfection had on my life. The perfection fed the anger and anger fed the perfection in a sick and endless loop of internal destruction. And I had to face it. Deal with it. Unpack it. I learned that it is okay to be angry as long as I didn’t stay angry. I learned to feel it instead of pushing it down to save face.

I also realized that I am not capable nor am I responsible for making anything ALL better; and that my marriage failed but I was not a failure. Embracing my imperfections allowed me the space to reflect inward and investigate the wounds that the pain was tapping on; the places I still needed God heal. The journey led me to discover more of who I was at my core and what I needed and deserved from relationships.

I also learned to:

Accept people for who they are and where they are

Accept that there is nothing I can do or could have done to change another person’s actions

Accept that they may never understand my pain

Accept that their actions do not diminish me in any way

Accept that God made me fearfully and wonderfully. PERIOD.

Accept that people will fail, but God’s love never fails

Broken and Built

Have you ever dropped a glass dish and watched it shatter into a hundred pieces? You stop in your tracks because you don’t want to get cut. You begin to carefully clean it up. Once you clear the larger pieces you get down on all fours to gather up the tiny little specks of glass. You make sure to wear shoes for a while until you’re sure you’ve gotten it all.

I once found something I had lost many months prior while cleaning up broken glass. The item had fallen in the sliver of space between the refrigerator and counter. I had looked and looked when I first misplaced the item but it was lodged in such a way that I did not see it. Not until I was down on all fours, carefully searching for every last little piece of glass and at just the right angle did I see the item that had been lost. I never would have found it without that glass breaking. And inevitably no matter how carefully you clean up those pieces of glass you’re bound to be walking along weeks later and….find one more piece. By then you’re probably barefoot and it catches you off guard. Ouch.

That broken glass is the only way I can describe my process of navigating the brokenness created by betrayal. I was broken into so many little pieces and I needed to take time to gently pick up my pieces without further damaging myself. I had to get down to the nitty gritty with God and inspect every crevice of my soul until I was sure I could walk around without cutting myself or anyone else.

I was also built up in the healing process. I gained clarity on how the abandoned little girl inside of me had been driving my decision-making. Once I rescued her, I unearthed hidden treasure within; valuable pieces of myself I had lost along the way. It also built a hunger in me to more fully understand my blind spots, how to target my prayers, and how to stand in my God-given power and authority. It built up the warrior in me!

Cutting and Compassion

Wounds leave scars. The truth is that once something (like glass) is broken you typically have to replace rather than repair the item. The replacement will be something similar but not the same. You ever try finding matching glass to a set you purchased years before? Even if you are fortunate enough to find an exact replacement item, you tend to handle it differently; you’re a little more careful and protective. So while I have forgiven the betrayal (and released those people from my life), I handle myself a little differently. I am me but I am not quite the same. If you look closely you may see the scars. But I didn’t allow the scars to make me a callous and uncaring person.

I love the medical differentiation between callous and scar: a callous is the hardening and raising of skin where there has been friction, irritation or pressure; but a scar is fibrous tissue that forms a new type of “skin” after a trauma or wound. Nails it all the way around for me! My restoration and healing process after betrayal was not simply pressure or friction, it was flat out surgery. A scar-producing, life-saving surgery that cut away all of the foreign objects that had been grafted into my being. And my scars are like an altar, a place where I remember who God is and how He brought me over.

Finally, this process has given me a greater compassion for others; specifically people whose actions have hurt me. I used to gloss over the scripture that instructs us to love and pray for our enemies. Like for real, Lord? But I have come to understand that there are people in this world with unresolved issues that cause them do the hurtful and selfish things that they do. They’re the figurative bulls in a world of china shops. I am not condoning damaging behavior or people who refuse to be accountable for their actions. However I have learned that people are complex beings and it is up to each of us to be very clear about our worth and establish healthy boundaries to preserve the sanctity of our spirits. I learned my A, B, C’s all over again in middle age and it has been the greatest lesson ever. I am finally flying!