9.1 “Betrayal”
Picture This:
For five years, they were your closest friend, confidant, and safe space. When the weight of your struggles became too much to carry alone, you turned to them. You told them everything. The late nights, the shame, the times you promised yourself it would be the last drink, only to break that promise again. You told them because you believed they would keep it safe. Maybe they could even help you, stand by you as you worked through this, and be the anchor you so desperately needed.
Or so you thought.
You wake up the next morning to seven unread messages and two missed calls. Some are from people you know well; others from acquaintances at best. The words on your screen don’t make sense at first.
“I’m so sorry to hear about what you’re going through. If you need help, just ask.”
“You’re not alone. We’re here for you.”
“You’re so strong.”
Your face burns. Your chest tightens. You don’t want to look at your phone, but can’t stop rereading the messages.
How do they know?
Then, it clicks. Your so-called friend had decided your story wasn’t yours to tell anymore.
Maybe it was casual, a slip of the tongue. Maybe they thought they were helping. Or maybe, just maybe, they enjoyed the power of holding something so fragile and then dropping it just to see it break.
It doesn’t matter why.
You stare at your phone, rage simmering beneath your skin, the betrayal sinking in like a stone in your gut.
Later that day, your friend calls to explain. “I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t realize it would get out like that. I never meant to hurt you.” But none of it matters. None of it erases the fact that they took something deeply personal, something you barely had the courage to admit to yourself, and tossed it into the open for others to judge.
They ask for forgiveness, but they don’t deserve it.
Because forgiveness feels like surrender, it feels like saying what they did is okay. And it’s not. It never will be. Maybe with time, you’ll let go of the anger. Maybe one day, you’ll stop feeling the sour taste every time you think of their name.
But not today.
In Chapter 1, we defined wellness as a dynamic and ongoing process of making choices that support the best possible state of existence for each individual. While much attention and effort are often given to improving mental well-being (via learning, counselling, and emotional regulation) and physical well-being (via physical activity, nutrition, and rest), spiritual well-being requires equal (if not greater) consideration.
This chapter explores spiritual wellness by examining diverse perspectives on one’s Higher Power and how these beliefs shape individual spiritual practices. It identifies practical strategies for nurturing spiritual well-being and discusses barriers to spiritual growth. Additionally, it emphasizes how cultivating a balanced relationship between oneself and one’s environment contributes to a more enriching and fulfilling life.
