When the People You Love and Trust Most Betray You as a Child

As children, we naturally look up to the adults in our lives for guidance, protection, and love. For me, those people were my grandparents and my aunts and uncles. I adored them. Visiting my grandparents was the highlight of my childhood, filled with love, laughter, and a sense of safety. Those moments were my sanctuary.

But then came the summer when I was nine. Everything changed.

What happened that summer shattered my innocent view of life and the adults I once trusted completely. I won’t go into the details here, but the betrayal I experienced left a lasting mark. It wasn’t just the event itself—it was the ripple effect. From that moment, I became hyper-aware of the vulnerability of children, not just myself but others in my family.

I became a protector, a watcher.

Gone was the carefree innocence that should define childhood. In its place was a growing sense of responsibility, a weight I carried quietly but firmly. I began to see the cracks in the facades of adults—their flaws, their failures, and the ways they could hurt rather than protect.

That summer taught me harsh lessons about trust. It reshaped how I saw people and the world around me. It also fueled a deeper sense of purpose. I couldn’t undo what had happened to me, but I could make sure I was there for others—to shield them, to listen, to watch for the signs that might go unnoticed.

Looking back now, I realize that while this shift in me was born from pain, it also gave me strength. It shaped my empathy and my determination to be someone others could count on. But it also left scars—scars I’ve had to work through, even as an adult.

For a long time, I carried that pain alone, believing I had to bear it in silence. But healing wasn’t something I could achieve on my own. I needed God.

When I finally turned to Him, I found something I hadn’t felt in years: peace.

The Bible says, “He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds” (Psalm 147:3). I clung to that promise, pouring out my pain and questions to God in prayer. At first, it felt like I was shouting into the void, but over time, I felt His presence. It was as if He was reminding me that even in my darkest moments, He had been there, holding me close.

God showed me that healing doesn’t mean forgetting—it means trusting Him to carry the weight I was never meant to bear. He reminded me that I’m not defined by what happened to me but by who I am in Him: loved, cherished, and whole.

Here are some ways I sought healing from God:

1. Prayer and Honesty: I poured out my heart to God without holding back. I told Him my pain, my anger, and my confusion. He can handle our raw emotions.

2. Scripture: Verses like Psalm 34:18, “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted,” became lifelines. Reading God’s Word reminded me of His promises and His love.

3. Community: I sought out trusted friends and mentors in my church family who could pray with me and speak truth into my life. Their support reminded me I wasn’t alone.

4. Forgiveness: This was the hardest step. Forgiveness didn’t mean excusing what happened or forgetting it. It meant releasing the burden of bitterness and trusting God to bring justice in His way and time.

5. Counseling: God often works through people. Seeking Christian counseling helped me unpack my emotions and see God’s hand in my healing journey.

If you’ve been hurt, betrayed, or scarred, know this: Healing is possible. It’s a journey, not a quick fix, but God walks with us every step of the way.

I still feel the weight of that summer at times, but I no longer carry it alone. Through God’s grace, I’ve learned to trust again—not blindly, but wisely. And I’ve found that even in brokenness, there is beauty.

For every watcher, protector, and survivor out there: You are not alone. God sees you. He loves you. And He’s waiting to walk with you toward healing.