How I Healed My Marriage After Betrayal & Rupture
Click here for the Ecstatic Life Podcast episode that goes with this blog.
There was a time I thought my marriage was over. The rupture felt so big, so final, that I couldn’t see a way back to the love we once shared. If you’ve ever been there, you know the hollow ache. The distance. The unbearable thought of staying and the terrifying thought of leaving.
But what I learned through that dark season is this: healing is possible. Not only healing, but transformation. A rupture can become the doorway to a deeper, richer marriage, if you’re willing to walk through it.
Facing the Roots of the Rupture
No rupture happens in isolation. Whether it’s betrayal, conflict, or years of disconnection, there are always deeper roots, unmet needs, lost parts of ourselves, pain we never voiced. For me, the turning point came when I stopped pointing my finger outward and asked: Where have I abandoned myself?
It was humbling. Painful, even. But it was also the beginning of repair.
One of the most powerful truths I discovered during this time was something Dr. Emerson Eggerichs writes about in his book Love & Respect: women crave unconditional love, and men crave unconditional respect.
At first, that rubbed me the wrong way. I thought, But respect has to be earned! And yes, in many ways it does. But I began to understand that just as my soul withers without love, my husband’s spirit withers without respect. What if respect wasn’t a reward, but a gift? What if love and respect were the oxygen we both needed to breathe?
The shift was subtle but profound. When I leaned into offering respect (even when it wasn’t easy) I saw his heart soften. When he leaned into loving me unconditionally, I felt safe again.
Rebuilding after Rupture
Healing our marriage wasn’t about fixing him, or even fixing us. It began with fixing the broken pieces inside myself. I started practicing radical self-care; not as bubble baths and pedicures (though sometimes that too), but as deep nourishment for my body, mind, and spirit. Meditation, movement, journaling, saying no when I meant no.
I became responsible for my own joy. And from that place, I could show up in the marriage differently: less needy, less reactive, more open.
There were seasons we felt like strangers living under the same roof. But slowly, as we each leaned into growth, spiritual practices, hard conversations and forgiveness, the gap closed. And what emerged was a marriage far stronger than the one we had before the rupture.
Not perfect. Not tidy. But real and beautiful.
The Invitation of a Rupture
Here’s what I know now: ruptures are invitations. They can either destroy us, or they can strip away the illusions and demand that we grow.
If you’re in that place - staring down the fracture lines of your marriage - know this: it doesn't have to be the end. With self-love, boundaries, unconditional love, and unconditional respect, there’s a way forward.
It won’t look like what you imagined when you first said “I do.” But it just might become something better, truer, deeper, more soul-aligned. Because sometimes, the breaking is what finally lets the light in.
If you’re ready to rebuild your relationship - even if you believe it's already collapsed - I’d love to work with you. Click here to book a session with me.
