Betrayal.

It’s a word that holds so much pain, so much weight, yet it’s so hard to put into wordswhat it truly feels like until you’ve experienced it. It’s not just the breaking of trust; it’s the shattering of an illusion—the illusion that someone valued you, cared for you, and was loyal to you in the same way you were to them.

It is such a complicated and deeply cutting thing. It’s not always loud or dramatic; sometimes, it sneaks up quietly, in the moments you least expect it, from the people you never thought capable of it; A friend who you thought would always have your back talks about you behind it. A loved one you trusted completely hides things from you, things you had a right to know. Or maybe it’s a promise broken, a lie told, or a decision made with no regard for how deeply it would hurt you. It’s the breaking of trust, the shattering of something you thought was solid. And when it happens, it changes everything. The specifics don’t matter as much as the way it makes you feel: exposed, vulnerable, and questioning everything.

The aftermath of betrayal is what lingers the longest. It’s not just about losing trust in that person; it’s the ripple effects it causes in your own mind. You start second-guessing everyone and everything. Were they ever truly honest with me? Did I ever really know them? Was our connection real, or was it all built on a lie? It’s exhausting to carry those thoughts, and they seem to pop up when you’re alone with your mind.

What’s worse is how betrayal changes you. It makes you guarded, hesitant to trust, and fearful of opening up. You start building walls, not because you want to, but because you feel like you have to. That’s the real tragedy—it forces you to protect yourself in ways you never thought you’d need to.

“There is no loyalty, only opportunities.”

– Verbal Kint, The Usual Suspects

If anything, betrayal has shown me the importance of boundaries, of knowing my own worth, and of being cautious with who I give my trust to. Not everyone deserves the parts of me that are soft, kind, and loyal—and that’s okay. It’s not my job to fix or understand why someone betrayed me; it’s my job to protect my peace and move forward with strength.

I don’t think I’ll ever fully understand why people betray others—whether it’s selfishness, fear, or just their nature. But I do know that I don’t want to carry their betrayal as a burden. I want to let it go, to free myself from its hold, and to move forward with the wisdom it left behind.

Here’s to staying strong, even when trust is broken.

Love, Ana