On Betrayal (and trust)
The word itself is so ugly.
Betrayal.
It’s not a word I would have ever chosen to define most of my life for the past five years, but this side of heaven, I know we don’t always get to choose.
I have recently been accused of “airing my dirty laundry” here with you. I am confident that for anyone who believes this to be true, what I am sharing today will only add to it.
So, before I begin…
I do try to be careful and selective in what I share. The “laundry” I am airing here is nowhere near the dirtiest nor the most harmful to my husband. Believe it or not, there are far more personal and destructive stories that I have not shared. I am not sure I ever will.
My hope is that what I disclose will help illustrate my own healing and the presence of the Divine in my life. My husband and I were together for 13 years. Our stories, like it or not, are intertwined together. The relief is that the more time passes and the more grace I experience, this is less and less true.
I don’t write to hurt my husband. I write to help myself and perhaps, some of you.
On Betrayal
The most significant betrayal in my marriage was not infidelity or even his leaving. The most significant betrayal was what happened after he left.
In the handful of weeks between his final conclusion that he did not want to be a husband or father and his moving out, we had conversations almost every day about what life would look like once he left and began his new life.
The one thing that he reassured me of, with conviction and care, was that he would always make sure my children were cared for – especially my youngest’s medical needs. As part of these discussions, we agreed to legally separate but not actually divorce until my youngest turned 26 and could no longer be covered under his medical insurance plan.
My life was falling apart, but I was immensely grateful to him for this agreement. It felt loving and a reflection of the years we had shared together, no matter how bad it had become.
The most significant betrayal in my marriage and, frankly, my lifetime, was his decision to change this plan without any notice or discussion.
He filed for divorce, knowing it meant my children would be left without access to medical insurance, less than 4 months after moving out. Because he refused to talk to me and instead retained a lawyer to speak for him, I still have no idea what changed.
The impact of this betrayal was immediate and severe for me and for my children. My youngest receives incredibly expensive, life-saving infusions every week. He has for 5 years. He needs to continue this treatment weekly in order to stay alive. He will never be able to stop these infusions. I will always need to find a way to pay for them.
I know this. My son knows this. My family and friends know this. My husband knows this.
His decision to potentially leave my son without the means to access this life-saving treatment was absolutely shocking. His abrupt discard forced me to not only begin working around the clock to make enough money to support us, but also to prepare to add to my budget expensive top-tier medical insurance that would actually fully cover the treatment.
My children suffered from this betrayal as well.
Not only had they lost me for most of the day as I devoted more and more time to working, they also lost a father figure who had freely and publicly committed to them, first in our wedding ceremony, and then repeatedly through the years. He assured them directly that he would always be there for them. That he would always take care of them.
“Now he doesn’t care if I live or die,” was a statement made more than once by my youngest.
I’m sure my husband had his reasons. Maybe he wants to remarry. Maybe he wanted to completely cut all ties and not have any connection to us at all, something that legal separation would not allow. Maybe he didn’t really think through the impact of his decision.
I don’t know and I will never know. It is not something he shared nor is it something that even matters to me now.
Here’s what does matter.
This betrayal was traumatic on so many levels, but the most devastating part was the threat to my son. It wasn’t about the money or the marriage. The betrayal was in my most basic need to help myself and my child survive.
It was awful.
And, I have come to understand that this betrayal was also what allowed me to begin to fully trust myself and God again.
The Widow and Her Son
This week, I read the story of the widow and Elijah for the first time in years. (You’ll find it here if you’re interested in taking a look yourself. I may add it into my deeper study of Women in the Bible at some point as well.)
In the past, I think I have always seen this story through the lens of sacrifice. She has little, but she still shares because she knows it’s what God wants her to do. This week, it hit a little different.
She knew God was there. He told her Elijah was coming. But, art first, all she could think about was how little they had and the very worst outcome.
She chose to trust anyway and ultimately, she and her son are saved.
This week, I was gravitated toward the part of the story that shares her doubt and fear – even her resignation to just die. I am learning that trust is always somehow a mangled mess of fear, resignation and sometimes, even betrayal.
Betrayal of how it should be vs. how it is. And we trust anyway.
On Trust
My husband’s betrayal showed me who he really was and helped me begin to figure out how to live life without him, instead of clinging to something chaotic and cruel for the sake of my children.
It has illuminated my own part in the dysfunction – that trust is not something that should be given over and over again to someone so demonstratively untrustworthy.
It is betrayal that has taught me that I can fully and freely trust my closest friends with far more than they should have to bear, but are nonetheless willing to give.
In betrayal, I am learning to trust myself again, despite my making a lifetime of desperate and doomed choices. I am learning to trust God again, fully and with abandon.
With my child’s medical care and health
With my bills
With my broken heart
With whatever today may bring
With all that is before me in a future that is so unknown
The more I open my clenched hands and let go of the control I so desperately desire, the more I perceive the loving care that has surrounded me all along and the strength that inspires within me.
In the blinding blaze of betrayal, I lost sight of the immense power and agency that comes from surrendering to and depending on that Love.
I am deeply loved.
My children are loved.
I believe with everything that I am, no matter what your circumstances, that you are too.
Resources To Help
Betrayal trauma is real and requires specialized help and care.
If you need support and healing, I have found the following resources incredibly helpful:
