Did you ever feel left out at school? I know now that I am not alone in this, but at the time, I thought for sure I was the only teenager alive who had no friends. Here’s an excerpt from my journal that might resonate with you if you’ve ever felt rejected like I did:
The studious ones… let me in at first out of pity. Then one day at lunch they said, “Our group is too big for another person. We’ve been together since 5th grade, and you don’t understand our inside jokes. We’re tired of explaining everything to you. Sorry, you can’t sit with us anymore.” Walking into the school cafeteria suddenly felt like that dream where you aren’t wearing pants and all your teeth fall out while speaking publicly.
The class clowns…conspired to write a sarcastic ode to [me] which was then read aloud by the clueless English teacher in front of everyone. He didn’t even seem to notice how much they were laughing or how much I wanted to disappear forever. He just. Kept. Reading.
The jocks and cheerleaders…were too busy making out in the hallway corner behind the lockers to notice someone as insignificant as me. I was totally okay with being forever invisible to them.
The nerds…eventually let me play Uno with them in study hall. I got really good at Uno strategy, but it didn’t help my social skills deficits one bit.
The ones drinking and using drugs…were too scary for me to interact with. I had no interest in their parties or rebellious shenanigans.
The track running ones…passed me by as I wheezed my asthmatic way through a grand total of three practices. I had to quit the team. It was the first time I had ever quit something after making a commitment. I wished they had my favorite sport, soccer. Cue the shame and loneliness again.
It wasn’t just high school, either. When Husband finished grad school, his entire friend group moved more than 900 miles with him from their college town to the state where I lived. One of his good friends planned to start a church in our area. His siblings, their spouses, and Husband’s siblings were all part of what we called a “church planting team.” It was not easy breaking into this group that had been together for more than 8 years of collective college and grad school. It was clear that I didn’t get the inside jokes yet again. There were times, though, when I really felt like I belonged. They included me in the new memories we were making as we began to make gains on starting our new church, but they got together socially without me much of the time. I longed for the day when they would invite me along to the fun things instead of just the parts where we were working.
Psalm 55:12-13 (TPT) It wasn’t an enemy who taunted me. If it was an enemy, filled with pride and hatred, then I could have endured it. But it was you, my intimate friend!
Just when I thought the rejection was over, Betrayal came knocking. Years later when I was trying to come to grips with the reality that I had experienced nearly a decade of domestic abuse, these very same friends sided with Husband. Some of them told me to my face that I was the real problem, and that’s why they were “unfriending” me. Some resorted to making victim-shaming passive aggressive social media posts directed at me. Others were the voices behind my back that CPS used to substantiate me for fabricating the sexual abuse allegations. One of the most powerful testimonies was that of our church planting team leader and friend who became the pastor of the church we started. By that point, he had years of practice telling stories and preaching sermons meant to draw people in. When he spoke, people listened. And, when your own pastor says you are the real problem, CPS believes him.
Anyone who has ever dared to expose abusive behavior knows the depth of rejection and betrayal experienced when you shake up the comfortable perception that nice people are still nice even when no one is looking. When you begin to say that there are “nice” people out there living double lives behind closed doors, NO ONE wants to believe that. So, instead of believing the victim, they reject them. When the abuser launches the retaliatory smear campaign against them, these once-friends are quick to jump on the bandwagon. Sometimes, survivors have been disowned by their own biological immediate families. Other times, they are publicly excommunicated from their church. Worse yet, are those who lost their community years before their escape due to total isolation being a part of their individualized abuse package.
Psalm 41:9 (MSG) Even my best friend, the one I ate meals with all the time, has bitten my hand.
It can be easy to conclude that you’ll never belong. It can be easy to get caught up in the pain of betrayal to the degree that you withdraw from other people for your own safety. It can be easy to shame yourself into believing that you are simply not worthy of close relationships. After all, that’s what your abuser said.
And this is where what God says about who I am steps in to straighten out these tangled up beliefs.
-Psalm 5:7 God says I am an invited guest who is welcomed with open arms and covered in safety.
-Psalm 9:9-10 tells us that God is the safe house for the battered. We are welcomed into His perfectly safe house.
Many of us know all too well the ache of feeling unwelcome–rejected and betrayed– even in our own homes. The pain comes from deep, deep wounds, but God addresses it right away with words of welcome and safety.
I. Am. Welcome.
All of me.
Even the parts that were considered “too much” and “not enough” by the voice of shame and those who hurt me. God wants all of me. (And, the right kind of people will want all of me, too!)
I hope this helps, and I hope you feel welcome here.
