Thursday, June 8, 2017

By the Betrayed

I am sitting down and writing. I'm not sure how this will all come out in words on my computer screen but I am going to let my mind empty and my fingers fly.

A couple of weeks ago a friend called me and expressed to me some concerns she had. She was involved in a conversation when the topic somehow turned to me. She said she felt guilty for sitting there, listening, not saying anything about the fact that I wasn't there and they probably shouldn't be speaking about me. I appreciated her call. It would have been so much easier for her to say nothing to me and, most likely, I would have never found out.

The problem is, the things that were discussed were very personal and very intimate and not just only about me, but about my family. I shared these things a couple of years ago seeking help and support and I was very careful with whom I shared with. So, when this friend told me that these things were discussed I was so hurt and scared and shocked.

I want to protect the people whose names are involved.
It's not fair to them.

I reached out to one family member and told him what had happened. I told him that I couldn't guarantee that this would be the end of his story being spread. He said he understood but he seemed weary.

It broke my heart.

When this all happened a couple of years ago, this person encouraged me to reach out to others but he trusted that I would reach out to those who would honor him and his part in my trauma.

What do I do?

People will say to me, "Alice, you need to work on trusting people. I know you were hurt and betrayed but you can't let that ruin how you move forward in relationships."

Being betrayed by someone who understands betrayal is confusing.

Having trust broken by someone who understands how fragile and delicate trust is after a broken heart is devastating.

I need to remember that I carry many secrets and sacred stories of others lives in my heart. I need to remember that these lives aren't topics to be carelessly discussed with others. These stories are our lives, the lives of our loved ones, our most vulnerable selves.
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