Finding Your Knowing: Reclaiming the Voice Betrayal Tried to Silence
There’s a moment many women describe at the beginning of their therapy process. Sometimes it’s obvious to them; other times, it takes a few sessions to surface. The language is clunky at first - - difficult to articulate - - but when I tell them that therapy will be about finding their knowing, there’s often a visible melting. It’s the big truth settling in: trust has been eroded. And not only is there a loss of trust in their partner, there’s a devastating sense that they can’t trust others… or even themselves.
Betrayal trauma doesn’t just break trust with a partner. It fractures trust with your own body, your intuition, your choices, your memory. Clients often say:
“I should have known something was off.”
“I knew this was going on and I didn’t…”
“How did I not see this?”
The truth is: you were trusting and your partner took advantage of that trust.
That internal erosion of intuition doesn’t happen all at once. It happens slowly, quietly through minimized truths, withheld information, gaslighting, or the deep pressure to be “okay” for the sake of the relationship, the kids, the image… but ultimately, survival.
Jennifer Freyd talks about betrayal blindness — “when we fail to see evidence of betrayal right in front of us, often due to dependency or emotional investment in the relationship.” This blindness isn’t due to a lack of intelligence, strength, or awareness - - though that’s what so many people convince themselves.
And then it hits.
The realization that “knowing” - - that gut-level awareness, that instinctive clarity feels lost.
And it is a deeply felt pain.
The Grief of Losing Your Voice
There’s grief in realizing how far from yourself you’ve drifted. It’s a grief that doesn’t always come with tears, sometimes it comes as numbness. Exhaustion. Disbelief.
This is the kind of pain that doesn't show up on the outside. It lives in the quiet moments:
When someone asks “What do you need?” and the words don’t come.
When every decision feels like a threat.
When the part of you that used to know how to protect herself feels completely out of reach.
When you want to run -- but there are so many other factors to consider and then you’re angry all over again, asking: “Why am I the one having to think about all this?” “Why didn’t they?”
Healing Is a Slow Return
Finding your knowing again isn’t a linear path. It starts quiet and then gets loud. So loud you can’t unsee it.
It starts in moments:
Naming what happened without softening it for someone else’s comfort.
Noticing what your body does when you’re actually safe.
Saying no. Or maybe. Or not yet.
Listening to your own voice without explaining it away.
You don’t have to leap into confidence.
You don’t have to reclaim everything at once.
You get to rebuild piece by piece until your sense of self starts to feel like home again.
If You’re in That Place Now
If this is where you are - - unsure, foggy, deeply tired of trying to explain what’s wrong, you’re not broken. You’re in the part of the process where your body and heart are trying to protect you, even if it feels disconnected.
You’re allowed to grieve what was lost.
You’re also allowed to want it back.
We write these words because we know what it’s like to sit with people in that in-between space. And because we believe your voice is still there - - quiet, maybe, but not gone.