Affairs cut deep. They rattle you to your core.
If you’ve been betrayed, you’ve likely felt a gut-wrenching pain, a heavy sadness, and maybe even a piece of yourself slipping away.
It’s not just the loss of trust in your spouse—it can make you question everyone.
And then there’s the maddening part: despite the betrayal, you might still love them. That’s a tangle of emotions—wanting to turn to the one person you always leaned on for comfort, only to realize they’re the source of your hurt.
For the one who broke trust—the betrayer—the pain is different but real. Shame, sorrow, and regret often weigh them down.
Maybe they felt lost, unseen, or unheard in the relationship before the affair, and now they’re grappling with their own mess, even as the one who caused it.
Healing gets complicated when both sides are hurting. That’s where the Healing Broken Trust Triangle comes in—a roadmap to piecing trust back together.
To heal, you’ve got to tackle all three sides of this triangle. The first side is the most immediate: repairing the damage from the affair.
This means everything we’ve covered—ending the affair completely, setting clear boundaries, embracing raw honesty and transparency, answering the tough questions, dismantling negative communication patterns, and ensuring both partners feel chosen again.
It’s tough work, but it’s the foundation. Today, we’ll dig into what that takes.
Feeling chosen is at the heart of healing. Both of you need to feel it—chosen, valued, wanted.
The entire process, guided by the Healing Broken Trust Triangle, revolves around rebuilding that for each of you.We don’t usually start with the unfaithful partner’s needs, though. The priority is repairing the affair’s fallout. The triangle breaks down like this:
Affair Repair – Confronting what happened and restoring trust.
Marriage Issues – Strengthening the relationship as a whole.
Trauma Healing – Addressing the deep wounds betrayal leaves behind.
Two systems are at work here: ‘us’ and ‘me.’ The ‘us’ system covers affair repair and marriage issues—the shared effort to rebuild. The ‘me’ system is the trauma—the personal pain and scars each partner carries from the betrayal. Both need attention to move forward.
Many people want to jump ahead. They’d rather fix the marriage right away—skip the tough talks about the affair, rush back to intimacy, or just ‘move on.’
But avoiding what happened means they’ll never grasp why it happened or how to stop it from repeating. That’s why affair repair has to come first. You can’t build on a shaky foundation.
A big part of affair repair is ensuring both partners feel chosen again. This isn’t light work—it ties into the seven stages of affair recovery we’ve covered. It demands that the unfaithful partner step up as a healer. Healing often begins when the affair is laid bare.
If the one who strayed feels genuine remorse, they’ll pour effort into rebuilding trust. But sometimes, they don’t start there. They might fixate on marriage issues instead—how unhappy they were before the affair—rather than facing the damage they caused.
That mismatch sparks tension. The betrayed partner is reeling from a fresh, searing pain. They need repair before they can even think about the marriage as a whole.
If the unfaithful partner leaps to marriage fixes without tackling the affair, it deepens the wound—like salt rubbed in raw hurt.
This is why the Healing Broken Trust Triangle matters so much. Each side—affair repair, marriage issues, trauma healing—needs attention in the right order, at the right time.
When trust shatters, the betrayed spouse often can’t focus beyond the betrayal.
They might admit, ‘Sure, our marriage had problems, but I can’t face that yet—I’m too broken.’ Meanwhile, the unfaithful partner might push to address the relationship, eager to move past their guilt.
That push-pull creates a rift. One’s ready to rebuild the ‘us,’ while the other’s still trapped in the pain of broken trust.
And if the unfaithful partner forces the marriage conversation too soon, it can feel dismissive—like they’re dodging accountability with a ‘Yeah, but you weren’t perfect either.’ That’s not remorse; it’s scorekeeping. It stalls healing instead of starting it.
For the betrayed partner, the pain is a raw, open wound. They can’t move forward until it’s tended to—stitched up with care. They often feel, ‘You shattered me, so you need to help put me back together.
You broke my trust; now show me you’re on my side, that you’re willing to heal this with me.’
They crave answers, transparency, proof the affair is dead and gone. It’s a natural response to being wronged: ‘You caused this mess—you make it right.’ There’s a sense of justice in that, almost like, ‘You did the crime, now do the time.’ It’s a valid, human reaction to such deep hurt.
But if both partners dig in—one demanding repair while the other races to gloss over the affair—it turns into a tug-of-war. Healing stalls in that power struggle.
That’s why, in most cases, affair repair has to come first. Trust is the bedrock; without it rebuilt, deeper marriage work crumbles.
Some couples flip the script, though—they dive into general marriage issues instead of facing the affair head-on. This happens for two main reasons. One, they might not realize the betrayal needs to be confronted directly.
They dodge the hard talks, hoping it’ll fade on its own. Two, the unfaithful partner might waver on staying. If they’re not fully in, their uncertainty leaves the betrayed spouse dangling—wanting to heal but unsure if it’s safe to try.
In that limbo, the betrayed partner often shelves their own needs. They still love their spouse, maybe want to hold the family together—it’s understandable. But in their push to save the marriage, they risk neglecting their own wounds. That’s a trap.
One of the biggest missteps couples make is overlooking the trauma—the deep emotional scars betrayal carves out.
I worked with a couple once whose story broke my heart. The husband had an affair, and by the time they came to me, they’d been trying to heal for three years.
Three years of therapy—marriage counseling plus individual sessions for both, three times a week. Exhausting. But they’d missed the core issue: the trauma from the affair hadn’t been touched.
Eventually, the husband sought trauma therapy to confront his rough childhood. His past had left deep scars, and his therapist helped him untangle that pain. But his wife—who’d grown up in a stable, loving home—never got the same suggestion. With no personal history of trauma, no one thought she needed it.
When I met them, she was on the verge of walking away. Within minutes of our conversation, the gap was glaring: her trauma from the affair had been completely overlooked.
Her husband had transformed—he’d gone from betrayer to healer, pouring himself into repairing the damage with real accountability and presence.
But she couldn’t feel love anymore. Instead, disgust had taken root. That’s what happens when betrayal trauma is ignored. No matter how much effort goes into the marriage, healing stalls if the affair’s wounds aren’t addressed. Recovery just doesn’t stick without it.
Early on, this husband stumbled in the healing process, but over time, he became a master at showing up—taking responsibility, being there for her.
The catch? Betrayal trauma isn’t a single blow. It’s not just the moment of discovery. The wounds can keep piling up long after the affair comes to light. Often, the unfaithful partner doesn’t spill the full truth right away.
They trickle it out—doling out fragments over time instead of laying it all bare. Or they don’t cut off the affair immediately, maybe still crossing paths with the affair partner at work. Each delay, each half-truth, slashes a new cut, making healing that much harder.
Some of the deepest pain hits after the affair is exposed. The betrayed partner’s already raw, and when more lies surface later, it’s a gut punch: ‘I told you I was hurting, and you still chose to stab me again.’ One of the unfaithful partner’s biggest missteps is not being brutally honest from the start.
But on the flip side, the betrayed partner’s biggest mistake is skipping trauma therapy. Without it, they can stay trapped in that pain—even when their spouse is doing everything right.
I hear this sometimes: ‘My spouse is checking all the boxes, but I’m still stuck.’ To me, the missing piece is clear: trauma therapy. It’s the key to unlocking that stall.
The Healing Broken Trust Triangle—affair repair, marriage issues, and trauma healing—is interconnected, but trauma sets the ceiling, because without couples can’t fully get out of their negative cycle and live in a positive cycle. If it’s ignored, healing hits a wall.
Unaddressed trauma keeps people trapped. Triggers aren’t just reminders—they’re emotional time machines, hurling you back into the raw pain of betrayal. Left untreated, that pain festers, driving a wedge between partners.
Instead of drawing closer, the betrayed spouse might start feeling disgust toward the one who hurt them.
It’s not always instant; it can creep in over time, especially if the affair involved gut-wrenching violations—unprotected sex, a betrayal with someone close to the family, or other soul-crushing breaches.
Those wounds don’t fade on their own. They demand attention, or they’ll keep blocking the path to real recovery. The actions of an affair can feel revolting—violations like sleeping with a family friend or risking health with no protection.
At first, the disgust targets the behavior itself. But if healing stalls, that revulsion shifts from the what to the who—from the act to the person. That’s when it gets dangerous.
John Gottman, a top marriage researcher, nailed it: contempt—another word for disgust—is a major divorce predictor. Being repulsed by what happened is one thing; feeling that way about your spouse as a person is a much harder hill to climb.
Here’s the bright side: trauma therapy can mend those wounds. It helps people reclaim themselves. Betrayal trauma leaves you feeling shattered, adrift, and swamped—turning even small talks into minefields that rip open old cuts.
That’s why I’m passionate about this work. Once those wounds heal, clarity returns. Conversations become productive again. People can finally move forward, not just limp along.
One of the clearest signs of healing from trauma is freedom—it no longer holds the reins. The pain doesn’t strike with the same force. My favorite marker, though, is when someone forges new, positive beliefs about themselves.
I worked with a woman who, after trauma therapy, said something that stopped me in my tracks: ‘If he ever cheated again, I know I’d be okay.’
Before, that thought would’ve been unthinkable—trust shattered leaves no room for it. But after processing her trauma, she stood taller. She felt like an overcomer, like she could plant her feet on a mountain and shift the earth. That’s liberation.
There’s a myth about trauma therapy that trips people up: ‘If I do it, I’ll forget what happened.’ Not true. You don’t forget—the memory just loses its grip. It’s still there, but it stops running the show.
Trauma messes with intimacy—it’s hard to feel truly seen when you’re carrying that weight. Left unchecked, its symptoms weave into your relationship, even your personality, shifting over time. In the early chaos, it might show up as anxiety, paranoia, or obsessive loops.
Later, it lingers in subtler ways, quietly sabotaging affair recovery.
One telltale sign is an obsession with details. A betrayed partner might fire off a million questions, desperate to piece the affair together. But no matter how many answers they get, it doesn’t click—they keep circling back, asking the same thing again and again.
Their brain’s wrestling with the incomprehensible, and it wears both partners down, locking them in place.
That’s why trauma therapy is a game-changer. Even if the unfaithful spouse is doing everything right, the betrayed partner can still feel caged by pain without it. But when trauma’s addressed, it cracks open healing in ways nothing else can touch.
Sometimes that stuck feeling lingers because of trickle truth—when the unfaithful partner didn’t come clean upfront. Maybe they piled on lies or inflicted other hurts over time. Even if they finally get honest, that trapped sensation is still trauma’s echo. And if it’s not healed, the negative cycle rolls on.
Even if the marriage gets better—stronger in spots—trauma symptoms drag you back. If I can’t process what happened, I’m frozen in that moment. And if I’m stuck there, resentment festers. No matter how much we ache to move on, trauma anchors us in place.
That ties into a couple of myths about healing. The first, we’ve covered: ‘If I heal from trauma, I’ll forget it happened.’ Not true. You won’t forget—it just stops owning you.
The second myth is trickier because it’s half-right: ‘If my spouse steps up, I’ll feel better.’ Yes, but only to a point.
When the unfaithful partner shows love, accountability, and transparency, it helps—Attachment Theory 101. Care breeds security. But betrayal isn’t just distress; it’s often trauma. And trauma doesn’t melt away with support alone.
Let me break that down. A distressing event hurts but doesn’t scar you long-term. Take my old job as a bank teller. One summer, 18 banks got robbed in my city. I walked into work every day braced for a holdup, dreading the bell on the door. That was distressing, sure, but not traumatic.
If I’d actually been robbed, though? That’s a different beast—a single-episode trauma, one seismic jolt. If it happened again and again, it’d be repeated trauma, gouging deeper each time. Betrayal often mirrors that.
An affair is one blow. But trickle truth, ongoing lies, or lingering ties to the affair partner? Those are fresh stabs, reopening the wound over and over.
So, a better marriage—while comforting—can’t heal trauma on its own. A solid relationship offers safety, a shoulder, a soft place to land, but it doesn’t touch the pain wired into your nervous system.
Trauma’s biological—it lives in your body, tripping your fight-or-flight switch. That’s why trauma therapy is non-negotiable.
It’s also why some people leave a broken marriage, step into a healthier one, and still feel haunted. A good partner doesn’t erase the wounds. You carry them until you face them head-on.
Healing from betrayal isn’t just about patching up the marriage or rebuilding trust—it’s about tackling trauma, too. If that trauma goes unaddressed, it festers. Even when things look better on the outside, that gnawing, stuck feeling lingers inside.
I know this from experience. Before Morgan, I had my trust shattered. Ten months later, I was in a new, happy relationship, but a quiet depression clung to me. It took years to feel a shift.
Betrayal isn’t just trauma—it’s grief, too. Grief doesn’t vanish quickly. Early on, it grips you for about two years, and even after that, a thread of sadness stays woven into you.
Morgan picked up on something odd early in our marriage—I didn’t listen to music. She figured I just wasn’t into it, but that’s not the whole story.’ Music had turned into a trauma trigger.
Love songs stung, dragging me back to old pain, so I shut them out. This was pre-streaming days—no playlists to curate—so rather than risk a radio hit sparking an emotional ambush, I opted for silence.
Years later, co-leading an affair recovery support group, I heard people unpack their lingering ache—and it hit me: I still carried mine, too. Seven years post-betrayal, I was still numb in pockets of my heart. That’s when I realized I’d been wrestling with trauma symptoms from betrayal trauma.
That’s why so many stay trapped, even after pouring in effort. It breaks my heart to see couples doing all the right things—working hard, breaking a sweat to heal—and still circling back to negative cycles. That’s why I push for trauma therapy with an open mind. To me, it’s the missing key.
The second myth is, ‘If my spouse steps up, I’ll feel better.’ It’s half-true—a loving, accountable partner can ease the sting, but it’s not a trauma cure. Trauma’s not just emotional—it’s wired into your body, your nervous system. A strong marriage offers a soft landing, but it doesn’t uproot the trauma itself. That takes separate work.
Then there’s a third myth: ‘The unfaithful partner should do trauma therapy first.’ I hear betrayed spouses say, ‘You cheated. You’ve got childhood baggage. You go fix yourself.’ Sure, the unfaithful partner might need it—and often does—but starting there drags out the healing.
When the betrayed spouse is in crisis, the quickest way out is for them to tackle their trauma first. It’s a tough pill to swallow, but in my experience, it’s the straightest shot to real recovery.
If you’re desperate to climb out of the chaos, trauma has to come first. Leaning only on marriage counseling while sidelining trauma therapy? That’s a longer, rougher slog.
Some cling to that old line: ‘If my spouse treats me better, I’ll feel better.’ It’s not wrong—it’s just not enough. A healthier relationship lifts you up, but trauma’s roots stay buried until you dig them out.
Here’s the deal, betrayed spouses: you need trauma therapy and marriage counseling, side by side. Picture two appointments a week—one for your trauma, one for the marriage. Your spouse might even add a third for their own healing. Point is, you need both. Recovery hinges on two systems:
‘Us’—the relationship.
‘Me’—the trauma.
Lean on marriage counseling alone, and you’ll hit a ceiling—progress, sure, but not freedom. Focus only on trauma therapy, and you’ll mend your own wounds but leave the relationship dangling.
True forward motion demands both, working in tandem.
Some believe, ‘If my spouse sorts themselves out, our marriage will heal,’ or ‘If I fix myself, everything will fall into place.’ It’s a half-truth.
Healing one piece doesn’t magically mend the whole puzzle. You need both—trauma therapy and relationship work—to truly move forward.
I’ve seen it play out. Couples who embrace the Healing Broken Trust Triangle and commit to the process? They thrive.
Others push back, insisting, ‘We don’t need trauma therapy—just trust-building.’ But the ones who dive into trauma therapy come out ahead. They heal faster, grow stronger, and break free from pain’s grip.
Not All Trauma Treatments Fit the Same
Here’s a heads-up: trauma therapy isn’t one-size-fits-all. Different approaches click for different people. If you tried one method and it flopped, don’t write off the whole idea—you might just need a fresh angle.
I lean on six or seven techniques myself, blending at least three per session to tailor the healing. What unlocks one person’s pain might not budge another’s.
If you’re curious about trauma’s mechanics, grab The Body Keeps the Score by Bessel van der Kolk. It’s a game-changer on how trauma wires into your body and tangles relationships. On page 13, he drops a truth bomb:
‘Trauma, whether from something done to you or something you’ve done, almost always makes intimacy a battle.’ That hits both sides. Betrayed spouses wrestle with, ‘How do I trust again?’ Unfaithful partners grapple with, ‘How do I open up after causing this hurt?
Trauma doesn’t just rattle your emotions—it shakes your relationships, your trust, your ability to feel safe with someone you love. That’s why, if you’re healing from betrayal, trauma therapy isn’t a nice-to-have—it’s a must.
Not enough people are shouting this from the rooftops. Most marriage counselors don’t nudge clients toward trauma therapy alongside couples’ work.
Old-school marriage counseling leaned hard on communication skills. Fair enough—but if betrayal trauma’s left untouched, couples hit a wall. They talk better, sure, but the wounds fester. The pain keeps looping back because the roots run deeper than words can reach.
Contrast that with the Healing Broken Trust Triangle—tackling affair repair, marriage issues, and trauma therapy. The couples who go all-in?
Their results blow me away—hands down the best I’ve seen. I’ve watched people heal at lightning speed. They’re not just limping along—they’re leaving the past in the dust and thriving.
I often wonder how my life might’ve turned out if my parents had this knowledge. They tried marriage counseling three times in the ‘80s, but trauma therapy?
It wasn’t even on the radar back then. If they’d had access to this—if they’d gotten the right tools—my childhood, my whole story, could’ve been rewritten.
That’s why this is more than a job for us—it’s a passion. We’re here because we don’t want you or your kids to endure this pain a minute longer than you have to.
If you’re exhausted from spinning your wheels, if marriage counseling alone hasn’t cracked it, or if you’re scared you’ll never climb out of this hole on your own—let us step in.
Visit HealingBrokenTrust.com to see how working with me or our team can finally unlock the breakthrough you’ve been chasing.
References:
Gordon, K. C., Baucom, D. H., & Snyder, D. K. (2004). An Integrative Intervention for Promoting Recovery From Extramarital Affairs. Journal of Marital and Family Therapy, 30(2), 213–231.
Gottman, J. M. (1999). The marriage clinic: A scientifically based marital therapy. W. W. Norton & Company.
van der Kolk, B. A. (2014). The body keeps the score: Brain, mind, and body in the healing of trauma. New York, NY: Viking.
