Before I talk about peace or healing
I was angry.
Not just irritated or frustrated. I’m talking about an anger that had me outside on the heavy bag until my hands bled or my shoulder gave out. An anger that lived in my chest, in my jaw, in every word I wanted to send back in reply.
I was angry at the accusations about me.
I was angry at the rumors being spread.
I was angry at how my motives were twisted and my character questioned.
But more than anything, I was angry that her own family seemed to ignore her healing, her growth, and especially her boundaries. I wanted to shake them and shout:
“Can’t you see how she is healing? Can’t you see how hard she’s fighting to get healthy?”
Underneath all of that was something I didn’t want to admit:
- I wanted to control how she replied and responded.
- I wanted her to answer faster.
- I wanted her to defend herself harder.
- I wanted to shut everyone up who was tarnishing her name and spreading false stories.
My anger was off the hook.
And yet, through all of this, I’m slowly learning to hand that anger to God.
I still flinch. I still feel the urge to lash out. But day by day, the anger is losing its grip, and I’m finding a strange kind of peace in the middle of the storm as it dissipates a little quicker each time.
Sometimes that shift started with one simple question from her:
“Have you had your quiet time baby?”
More often than I’d like to admit, the answer was no—and I could feel the difference.
When Everyone Has an Opinion About You
This hasn’t just been one conflict with one person. It has felt like my character has been on trial from every direction.
Family members.
Extended relatives.
Church people.
“Concerned Christians.”
Social media comments.
Private messages.
Some have questioned my motives.
Some have questioned my relationship.
Some have questioned my faith.
Some have painted me as manipulative, predatory, bitter, or out for revenge.
At times, the words have been wrapped in spiritual language and Bible verses. Other times, they’ve been blunt and harsh. Either way, the message underneath has often sounded the same:
“You’re the problem. You caused this. You’re the one in the wrong.”
And yet, in the middle of all that noise, one thing has stayed steady:
God has not changed His posture toward me.
He has listened when others wouldn’t.
He has seen the parts of the story no one asked about.
He has gently exposed my own blind spots.
He has guided my steps through the Holy Spirit when I didn’t trust myself.
Facing My Own Temptation to Control
It would be easy to make this only about what others have done, but the truth is, this season has also shown me some things about myself.
When people came after us, especially after her, I wanted to protect her so badly that I slipped into my own version of control.
The Ways I Tried to Control
I wanted her to:
- respond the way I thought was best,
- set boundaries with the exact words I would use,
- post or stay silent on my timeline,
- react in ways that made me feel safer.
The irony is that while I was angry at other people for being controlling, I was being tempted to control her responses out of my own fear and pain.
What the Holy Spirit Showed Me
The Holy Spirit has been quietly nudging me:
“She is not your project.
She is not your spokesperson.
She is My daughter. Support her, don’t steer her.”
Letting go of the need to manage her responses has been humbling. But it’s also been freeing. It’s helped me love her as an equal, not as someone I need to operate through.
Bringing My Anger to God Instead of the Comment Section
I’m not going to pretend I’ve moved past the anger completely. I haven’t.
I still feel it rise when:
- someone rewrites the story to make themselves the hero,
- someone questions her healing or calls her growth “rebellion,”
- someone says I’m the cause of damage that started long before I came into the picture,
- someone uses God’s name as a weapon instead of a refuge.
There have been so many times I’ve wanted to fire back the perfect reply, drop every screenshot, and correct every lie in one long post.
Learning a Different Response
But God keeps bringing me back to this:
“Be angry and do not sin…” (Ephesians 4:26)
For me, that has looked like:
- praying before posting,
- sometimes choosing not to reply at all,
- pouring the rawest words into prayer instead of into messages,
- asking, “Lord, what are You trying to form in me?” instead of just, “How do I prove them wrong?”
And sometimes it has simply looked like her asking:
“Have you had your quiet time today?”
and me realizing that I was trying to carry something in my own strength that I hadn’t even laid before God yet.
The anger still comes. But it doesn’t control me in the same way it used to.
The heavy bag hasn’t seen me as often.
The urge to explode passes a little faster.
That’s not because I’ve become a calmer person on my own.
It’s because I’m slowly learning to hand my reactions back to God.
Why We Share Our Story at All
A lot of the backlash has come because pieces of our story have been shared publicly—through writing, not raging.
Some people see that and immediately label it:
- “airing dirty laundry,”
- “crucifying people in public,”
- “vengeful,”
- “rebellious.”
From the outside, I get how it might look that way. But from the inside, it has felt very different.
What Silence Did to Us
We lived a long time in silence.
- Private attempts to address patterns and harm either went nowhere or made things worse.
- Some people only seemed to take our pain seriously when they realized it wouldn’t stay hidden anymore.
For us, telling the story—carefully, prayerfully, and without naming everyone—isn’t about payback. It’s about:
- not carrying everything alone in the dark,
- processing trauma in a way that doesn’t destroy us from the inside out,
- inviting others who have lived similar stories to feel less alone,
- choosing words over self-destruction.
For me personally, writing has given me somewhere to put the weight so it doesn’t all live in my chest or my fists.
Letting the Holy Spirit Guide My Path Through the Chaos
With voices coming from all sides, what has kept me from completely losing myself hasn’t been my own wisdom or strength. It’s been the quiet, steady work of the Holy Spirit.
How He’s Been Leading Me
He has been the One:
- nudging me when pride tries to take over,
- softening me when I want to harden and shut down,
- reminding me that her healing doesn’t have to happen on my terms,
- pulling me back when I start writing responses in my head at 2 a.m.,
- whispering, “You don’t have to fix them. Just walk with Me.”
There have been times where my only honest prayer was:
“God, I don’t know how to respond in a way that honors You.
I don’t know what to say that won’t make this worse.
Show me the next step. Just one.”
And somehow, He has. Not with big, dramatic signs—but with small, faithful whispers:
“Pause.”
“Delete that.”
“Let that message go unanswered.”
“Support her quietly today.”
“You don’t need to defend yourself to them. I know who you are.”
What I’m Choosing to Take With Me From All This
The story is still unfolding.
Some relationships may never be fully restored.
Some people may never see me accurately.
Some opinions about me may never change.
What’s Becoming Settled in My Heart
I’m starting to walk away with some settled things in my heart:
- I don’t need everyone to understand me. I need to walk honestly before God.
- I don’t need to control anyone else’s healing. I need to be faithful in my own.
- I don’t need to win every argument. I need to stay aligned with truth and love.
- I don’t need to hide our story. I need to tell it in a way that is honest and rooted in grace.
- I don’t need to be perfect. I need to be surrendered.
I have not responded perfectly in this season.
I’ve held onto anger longer than I should.
I’ve tried to steer someone I love instead of just standing with her.
I’ve wanted to clear my name in front of people who might never listen.
But even those missteps have become classrooms where God is teaching me.
For Anyone Who Feels Surrounded by Opinions
If you’re in a season where it feels like everyone has an opinion about your life, your faith, your choices, or your healing, I hope you hear this:
- You are not defined by the loudest voices in the room.
- You are not disqualified from healing because you’re angry or hurt.
- You are not wrong for telling the truth about your story.
- You are not required to explain yourself to everyone who misunderstands you.
You are invited to bring all of it—the anger, the confusion, the shame, the urge to defend yourself—to the One who already knows the whole story.
He has been with me through all of this: listening, correcting, comforting, and guiding my path through the Holy Spirit when I had no idea what to do next.
I can’t always calm the storm around me.
But I’m slowly learning, one day at a time, to let Him calm the storm inside me.
One surrendered moment.
One softened reaction.
One less swing at the heavy bag.
At a time.
We welcome your thoughts.
If something in this story resonates, challenges you, or raises questions, you’re invited to share your reflections. You can leave a comment below or email us directly at [email protected].
We read everything prayerfully and with care.
Thank you for walking this journey with us.