betrayal trauma Archives - Body Soul School

Do you ever feel like you’re not sure where you belong?

This fall, I’ve been noticing the random bright yellow branches that stick out like a sore thumb on bright green trees that seem to be otherwise happily hanging on to the full swing of summer.

What is it about these singular branches that forced a change–a shift to a new season–on a different schedule than all of their companions?

And does that solitary branch ever feel resentful, ashamed, or isolated as it sits so obviously separate from the safety of the group?

I’ve lived many moments that make me feel a sisterhood with these branches.

Moments where my life was unraveling so rapidly that I couldn’t make small talk at soccer games or volunteer for class parties like the other moms.

Moments at gatherings with family or friends where political, religious, or critical rants were the only acceptable conversation, so I retreated to silence rather than stir the pot or join the mob.

Moments in church pews, where my entire congregation all seemed to be nodding their heads in agreement and I was fighting the urge to hurl my shoe at the speaker.

When loss, betrayal, or life itself has forced you into a transition so deep that you no longer see the world the way you did before…

…when your strong opinions shrivel up and you crave the sweet stillness of unapologetically not-knowing…

…you sometimes feel like a misfit.

When this happens, sometimes the people you love don’t even know what to do with you.

You become a puzzle piece changing shape. Nothing fits the same anymore.

And while this seasoning surrender might be the most sacred and beautiful thing that can happen to any living being on this planet…

It can also feel supremely lonely.

If your soul-leaves are brightening to a more brillant hue or deepening into a richer shade and you suddenly feel out of sync with the branches you’ve always belonged to…

…I hope you take time to saunter through crisp air and hear the crunch of rusty leaves on the ground underneath you this week.

Surrender to the Autumn energy of releasing what no longer serves.

And as you do, breathe in an entire Universe that is hell-bent on growth, evolution, expansion, change.

Look around. The leaves are letting go, and they don’t all change color at the same time.

Each one has its own timetable.

There is room for a million perspectives.

To quote my dear friend, Mel: There are million pathways to the Divine.

So here’s to you, my misfits and free spirits. My wanderers who feel too much to not let their heart lead the way.

You are not alone.

You are not a freak.

You are not lost.

You’re just a little ahead in the game of letting go.

Don’t doubt yourself.

With your feet on the ground, your eyes wide open, and your heart guiding you, you’re perfectly on your imperfect way.

Thank you for playing a part in waking up the world, simply by having the courage to be precisely, unapologetically who you are.

The moment that changed my life forever…eventually for the better

Eleven years ago, I was a busy, juggling mom of four. I had one kid on my hip, another tugging my arm, and the other two chasing circles as I navigated hefty church responsibilities and a part-time job teaching University fitness classes. My husband had recently started his own business, and even though it was stressful, I thought we were living the dream.

The desperate striving, the nonstop calendars, the frequent arguments—I thought it was all normal —the price of success even, and I just kept swimming.

A year later, on a quiet Sunday night after our kids were in bed, my husband disclosed an extramarital relationship that completely rocked my world.

I spent days in bed with covers pulled over my head. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t sleep. I was flat on my face, broken. All the balls I was juggling lay scattered on the floor, and for the first time in my life, I had no drive or capacity to pick them up. I was stunned. Baffled. Enraged. Hopeless.

I had no idea what to do.

For over a year, I desperately flailed for somebody to rescue me. I devotedly did everything I could think of: I read books, pored through scriptures, listened to podcasts, went to therapy, met with church leaders, wrote hundreds of journal pages. My husband was fully on board to do all he could to save our marriage and he quickly found sobriety from his acting out behaviors.

But it didn’t fix the dark, gaping hole I felt inside.

A year past rock bottom, my husband and I attended a large Conference focused on the very problems we were dealing with. My heart was pounding as I walked into the crowded halls, buzzing with people. I was afraid I would see someone I knew. I was afraid of our shameful secret.

But I was even more compelled to hear the speakers: authors whose books I had read and who had walked through the very darkness we were stuck in. So we went, crossing our fingers that we would quietly blend into the background.

As my husband and I settled into our seats, our hands tightly clasped, my fears melted away. The words spilling out from presenters’ mouths told our story, spoke my heart. These people knew what I was experiencing, and they knew what it took to heal from it because they had done it themselves.

After a year of running in circles and going nowhere, I could feel the difference between going through motions with “theoretical experts” and getting in the trenches with lived-experience warriors who could help walk me through my own journey.

Attending this Conference turned out to be a crucial turning point, for several reasons.

One: We actually DID run into people we knew there—and amazingly, it was fine! They seemed happy to see us, and didn’t ask any personal details. In fact, it was a huge relief to realize that maybe we weren’t alone in our struggles.

Two: Suddenly we had access to a specialized toolkit we hadn’t even known existed—people, strategies, and resources that could help us deeply heal—for the long haul.

From that point forward, everything began to change for us, but not overnight. In fact, this moment was just the beginning: the moment we realized we couldn’t do it on our own.

There were so many challenges to face before we reached the point we are now, where we can honestly claim this 12-step promise: “We will not regret the past, nor wish to shut the door on it.”

Tomorrow I’ll fill you in on the bumpy road this beginning led to: a messy middle that would ask me to face challenges I could never have expected.

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