They say the ones you trust most can hurt you the deepest. I used to believe that family — by blood — was sacred. That somehow, no matter what we endured, that connection would always hold.
But I’ve learned that sometimes, those bonds break. And sometimes, they were never truly there to begin with.
My sister and I didn’t grow up in the same home. She was raised in foster care, and I was left behind with an abusive mother. We had different versions of pain, different scars. And while we share blood, there’s always been a gap between us — one that only widened with time.
She never believed what I went through. Never validated my experience. And when she couldn’t control me or my truth, she started trying to control how others saw me instead. Whispering lies. Twisting facts. Poisoning people’s views — even going so far as to try and influence professionals to block me from reuniting with my children.
It’s a betrayal I never expected, and one that hit deep.
“Even my close friend, someone I trusted, one who shared my bread, has turned against me.”
— Psalm 41:9
That verse — that truth — echoes in my soul. Because betrayal doesn’t always come from enemies. Sometimes, it comes from the ones who should’ve stood beside you, the ones who shared your table.
But out of that pain, something beautiful has grown.
I found family in a place I never expected: church. A home built not on blood, but on belief.
There, I found people who had been through dark places too — not judging, not condemning — just healing, rebuilding, and walking forward in faith. We carry each other when the weight is too much. We pray together, grow together. There’s no shame in that space. Just God, and grace, and hope.
The system we came from — the fractured childhoods, the broken homes — leaves ripple effects. It twists how we relate to each other. It can destroy sibling bonds before they even begin. But here’s the part I hold onto: it doesn’t have to define our future.
I’ve had to set boundaries. Not out of hate, but to protect my peace, my children, my spirit. I choose to let go of the lies, and of those who believe them. I refuse to chase approval or explain myself to people who were never listening in the first place.
Because I know my truth.
And I know that God knows it too.
Family isn’t always given — sometimes, it’s chosen. And I am choosing joy. Choosing faith. Choosing the people who show up in love, not judgment.
I walk forward with grace in my steps and peace in my heart.
And that is more than enough.
~ The Girl Speaks
thegirlspeaks.uk 
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