Take a deep breath

You know those stories that stick in your throat? The ones you start to write a hundred times, delete, start again, because finding the right words feels like trying to catch smoke with your bare hands? Yeah. This is one of those.

My fingers are hovering over the keyboard right now, my heart doing this funny little dance between “share it all” and “protect yourself.” But here’s the thing – sometimes the stories that make our hands shake as we type them are exactly the ones somebody else needs to hear.

So let me take you back to where it all crumbled. A few years ago, I was drowning in a darkness I never saw coming. Betrayal had wrapped itself around my heart like barbed wire, and anger… oh, the anger. It was my constant companion, my morning coffee, my midnight thought. I’d lay awake at night, crafting perfect revenge scenarios, feeding this bitterness that was slowly turning me into someone I didn’t recognize in the mirror.

I thought I was hiding it well. (We always think we’re hiding it well, don’t we?) Until one night, in the middle of another heated argument, my husband looked at me with these eyes – not angry, just… sad. And he said words that felt like lightning striking: “I don’t even know who you are anymore.”

Eight words.

Eight words that cut through all my carefully constructed walls of justification and rage. Because in that moment, with those words hanging in the air between us like smoke, I realized – I didn’t know who I was anymore either. That woman consumed by bitterness, plotting revenge like it was a full-time job? That wasn’t me. Or at least, it wasn’t who I wanted to be.

I’d love to tell you I had some dramatic epiphany that night, but truth? I cried myself to sleep. But the next morning, something had shifted. Maybe it was exhaustion. Maybe it was grace. Maybe it was just finally being tired enough of the person I’d become. Standing in my bathroom, staring at my puffy-eyed reflection, I made a choice that would change everything.

I chose to heal.

(And can I just pause here to acknowledge how simple those words look on the screen? “I chose to heal.” Three little words that would turn into the hardest, most beautiful journey of my life.)

Starting My Healing Journey

But where do you even begin when your heart feels shattered and your thoughts are clouded with anger? For me, it started with an unexpected turn back to church. I know what you’re thinking – I was never really a “church person” before. While I always believed in God, I never felt that sitting in a pew was necessary for my faith. But something drew me there, and I’m so grateful it did.

The Sanctuary Effect

Let me share about church in a more intimate, conversational way – as if we’re just two friends talking over coffee.

You know what’s funny? I never saw myself as a “church person.” Like, at all. The thought of walking into a church used to make me feel… awkward? Uncomfortable? Maybe even a little judged? But when everything in my life felt like it was falling apart – when my heart was so heavy I could barely breathe – somehow my feet carried me through those doors. There’s something about just sitting in a church that feels different. Maybe it’s the quiet – not just the absence of noise, but that deep kind of quiet that seems to reach into your soul. The sunlight streaming through stained glass windows, the gentle flicker of candles, the smooth wood of well-worn pews… it all creates this pocket of peace that feels separate from the chaos of regular life.

My ‘Hermit Mode’ Phase

Let me share something deeply personal with you about my “hermit mode” season – you know, that time when I just had to step away from it all to find myself again.

It hit me one morning while mindlessly scrolling through Facebook. There I was, thumb moving up and down, heart growing heavier with each post, each perfectly filtered photo, each “living my best life” update. The jealousy, the hurt, the constant comparing – it was eating me alive. And in that moment, something just… clicked. I remember setting my phone down, hands actually shaking a bit, and thinking, “I can’t do this anymore.”

So I did something that felt absolutely terrifying at the time – I deactivated Facebook. Just… poof. Gone. No dramatic “goodbye” post, no warnings. Just clicked that button and walked away. You want to know the funny thing? That pit in my stomach, that fear of missing out? It lasted about three days. Then this incredible peace started settling in.

In place of my social media addiction, I started what became my morning ritual. Oh my goodness, those early mornings became my lifeline! Picture this: It’s still dark outside, the house is completely quiet except for our old coffee maker humming in the kitchen. I’m curled up in this oversized armchair by the window (the one my husband always teases me about hogging), wrapped in my favorite blanket. My journal’s open on my lap, Bible beside me, and that first cup of coffee warming my hands.

Some mornings I’d write pages and pages, just letting everything spill out – all the hurt, the anger, the confusion. Other mornings I’d just sit there, watching the sun slowly paint the sky pink while whispering prayers that were really more like conversations with God. You know those prayers that are just… real? Like, “I’m still angry, God. I don’t want to be, but I am.”

The Bible scriptures became like little love letters meant just for me. I’d stumble across verses that felt like they were written exactly for what I was going through. There was this one morning I found myself reading about Joseph forgiving his brothers, and I just sat there crying into my coffee because it hit so close to home.

Five years later (wow, saying that number out loud still surprises me!), those quiet mornings are still my sacred time. My family knows – Mom’s chair before sunrise is officially a no-fly zone! Some things have shifted, sure. I’m back on social media now, but in such a different way. And church? Those every-other-Sunday services feel less like a lifeline and more like a family reunion. Those ladies from my church group who held me up when I could barely stand? They’re the ones I text random memes to at 2 AM now, the ones who show up with coffee just because, the ones who know all my mess and love me anyway.

You know what’s wild? That “hermit mode” that I thought would be so lonely? It turned out to be the time I felt most connected – to myself, to God, to what really matters. Sometimes you have to get really quiet to hear what your heart’s been trying to tell you all along.The Truth About Forgiveness

A Final Thought

You know what I’ve come to realize? When someone shows you who they really are – even when it breaks your heart – they’re actually giving you the most precious gift. I know that sounds crazy, right? Trust me, I remember those first raw days when the betrayal felt like a physical wound. The kind that makes it hard to breathe, hard to sleep, hard to believe you’ll ever feel whole again.

But here’s the thing about masks falling away… They save us from investing more years, more tears, more pieces of ourselves in relationships that were never meant to be part of our story. Sure, it feels like your world is shattering in the moment – I remember crying in my car outside the grocery store, in the shower where no one could hear me, into my pillow late at night. But now, looking back from this side of healing? I can see how each painful revelation was actually a doorway to freedom.

I wish I could sit with you right now, maybe share a cup of coffee or a quiet moment on my front porch. I’d look you in the eyes and tell you something I know deep in my bones to be true: This pain you’re feeling? It won’t be forever. I know it feels like it will. I know right now you might be checking your phone a hundred times a day, replaying conversations in your head, wondering what you could have done differently. I’ve been there. We all have.

But healing? Oh, sweet friend, healing is not just possible – it’s inevitable when you choose to walk toward it. Your path might look completely different from mine. Maybe you’ll need therapy (I did), maybe you’ll find peace in art or music or long walks in nature. Maybe you’ll need to ugly-cry in your best friend’s kitchen while she makes you tea. Whatever your journey looks like, it’s valid. It’s yours. And you’re already braver than you know for taking those first steps.

I’m standing here now on the other side of forgiveness, and I wish I could show you what it feels like. It’s like finally being able to take a deep breath after holding it for so long. It’s like putting down a heavy backpack you didn’t even realize you were carrying. The view from here? It’s more beautiful than I ever imagined possible during those dark days.

💭 A Penny for Your Thoughts…

I’m sitting here, vulnerable heart in hand, wondering about your story. Have you walked this path of betrayal and forgiveness? Are you walking it right now? Whether you’re in the middle of the storm or looking back from calmer shores, I’d love to hear your story in the comments below. Sometimes the simple act of sharing our wounds becomes part of the healing – not just for ourselves, but for others who might be reading this and feeling very alone in their own journey.

Remember: your story matters. Your healing matters. And yes, even your pain matters. Let’s create a safe space here to share, to support, to remind each other that while the path through betrayal is never easy, we don’t have to walk it alone. ❤️

P.S. Go and explore my handpicked book collection in the ‘Book Recs’ menu above or by clicking on the link below. Each one has left a special imprint on my soul, and I’m genuinely curious to know which ones speak to you! ✨ 📚”  https://innersoulwhisp.com/book-recs/

I’d love to share this video from The Mindset Mentor Podcast with you. It dives into the importance of forgiveness, not just for others, but for yourself too.