He Never Loved Me: Surviving the Trauma of Truth

I still remember the moment my life split in two: the before and the after. It was March 2024, nearly eight years into a marriage I thought was rooted in love and loyalty, when my husband looked at me and said words that would shatter my world: “I never loved you.”

That alone was devastating, but it didn’t end there. I later found out he had been having an affair with a married woman, someone I had opened my heart and home to. Someone I trusted. That betrayal cut deeper than I can explain. It wasn’t just infidelity. It was the unraveling of my entire reality. My marriage. My identity as a wife. My belief in love.

How do you even begin to heal from that?

The Earthquake Beneath My Feet

When someone you love and trust tells you they never loved you, it doesn’t just hurt. It destabilizes you. Every memory becomes a question mark. Every kind word, every shared moment, every “I love you” is suddenly up for debate. Was it all a lie? Was I that blind?

I kept replaying every moment, grasping for signs I might’ve missed. I felt ashamed, stupid, disposable, and so very angry. My self-worth took a hit; I’m still trying to recover from it. You don’t just mourn the relationship. You mourn the version of yourself who believed she was loved.

That’s the trauma no one talks about — the kind that doesn’t leave visible scars but quietly rewrites your nervous system, your sense of safety, and your capacity to trust.

Betrayal Upon Betrayal

What made it worse was the second betrayal — not just that he cheated, but with someone I had welcomed in. That kind of violation is spiritual. It makes you question your goodness. Your judgment. Your intuition.

I had been so busy trying to be the “good wife.” Trying to believe in us, trying to make things work. And yet I was the only one trying. That realization still knocks the wind out of me sometimes.

What Trauma Really Feels Like

The trauma didn’t just live in my thoughts — it lodged itself in my body. Panic attacks. Sleepless nights. A constant ache in my chest. My hands would shake without warning. I’d zone out during conversations or burst into tears at stoplights. My body was in survival mode, even when the danger had passed.

I questioned everything — including God. Why did you let this happen? Why didn’t you warn me?

But even in my darkest moments, I could feel a quiet whisper of grace beneath the wreckage. A reminder that truth — truth-no matter how painful—is never a punishment. It’s a beginning.

The Slow Work of Healing

I won’t sugarcoat it: healing has been brutal. Some days I feel empowered and free. Other days, I feel shattered all over again. But I keep showing up for myself — even when it’s messy, even when I don’t feel strong.

I’ve had to rebuild my sense of self from the ground up. I’ve reconnected with my faith. I’ve been to therapy. I’ve journaled, cried, prayed, and screamed into pillows. I’ve taken long walks, spoken my truth out loud, and slowly — so slowly — started to believe that this pain won’t last forever.

What has helped me the most is allowing myself to feel it all. The rage. The sadness. The disbelief. The grief. Because what I went through was traumatic. And pretending otherwise would only prolong the healing.

If You’ve Been Through Something Similar

First, I want you to know: it wasn’t your fault. You didn’t deserve it. You’re not unlovable. You’re not broken beyond repair.

The truth may have destroyed the illusion, but it didn’t destroy you.

You are still here.

Still breathing.

Still worthy of love.

Still capable of joy.

Still strong — even when you feel anything but.

A New Chapter

This blog post isn’t a happily ever after. It’s a work in progress. I’m still grieving what I lost—still reclaiming parts of me that were silenced in that marriage. Still learning how to trust my voice.

But one thing is sure: the truth, as painful as it was, set me free.

I now know that I would rather face the raw, brutal truth than live in a lie that slowly suffocates me. I’m not the same woman I was before March 2024. I’m wiser. I’m braver. And I’m finally learning to love myself the way I once hoped someone else would.

Thank you for reading my truth.

With Love, Sabby

“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” – Psalm 34:18