I didn’t set out to work specifically with betrayal trauma…

It started during my time working in community mental health, supporting women who were overwhelmed, shut down, or lost in a fog of grief and confusion after discovering infidelity, porn use, emotional betrayals or sexual secrets in their relationships.

Some had received labels that didn’t seem to capture the full picture.
The emotional impact of betrayal was sometimes framed through other lenses, such as co-dependence, poor coping, or personality difficulties.
But beneath those labels, there was often a deeper story of grief, overwhelm, unmet needs… expressed in ways like these:

> Struggling to function in daily roles
> Grieving the version of life they thought they were living
> Unsure who they were anymore
> Carrying shame, rage, or confusion with little space to name it
> Doing their best to survive while feeling completely alone

It was about the collapse of psychological safety, the disorientation that comes when truth is missing or distorted, when the nervous system is stuck in overdrive, and when the very person who once felt safest is now the source of threat.

It was about the loneliness of trying to explain something that often isn’t visible and the risk of being judged or dismissed when finally reaching out for help.

It was about the loss of solid ground. The loss of their reality, self and relationship.

That’s what drew me to this area of work and why I have continued to stay.
Because healing from betrayal trauma takes more than time.
It takes safety.
It takes being witnessed by someone who doesn’t question your story or your sanity.
Someone who can walk with you as you begin to make sense of what happened and begin to reconnect with the parts of you that feel lost, scattered, or silenced.

You don’t have to do this on your own.
You don’t have to stay stuck in survival.
There is space for your story, your grief, and your healing here.