“The way down is the way up.” — Richard Rohr

When Betrayal Becomes the Turning Point: What Falling Upward Teaches Us About Rising After We Break

There are moments in life that split us open so completely that the person we were before cannot continue. Betrayal is one of those moments. It shatters the structures we built to feel safe — our identity, our expectations, our sense of relational order. And while it feels like a collapse, Richard Rohr would say it’s actually an initiation.

Before we go further, it helps to understand the voice behind this wisdom.

Richard Rohr is a Franciscan priest, spiritual teacher, and founder of the Center for Action and Contemplation. For more than fifty years, he has guided people through the deeper work of identity, suffering, shadow, and transformation. His writing blends Christian mysticism with universal spiritual truth, making his work accessible to anyone seeking healing, wholeness, and inner freedom.

Rohr’s book Falling Upward, explores the idea that life unfolds in two major movements: the first half, where we build our identity, and the second half, where life invites us to grow beyond it. His work is profoundly relevant to betrayal healing because he reframes pain not as a detour, but as a doorway — the very place where the false self breaks so the true self can finally emerge.

And betrayal, as devastating as it is, often becomes that doorway.

Betrayal as the Collapse of the “First-Half” Self

Rohr teaches that the first half of life is about constructing identity:

• the roles we play

• the stories we tell

• the image we protect

• the relationships we cling to for validation

When betrayal hits, those structures crack. The identity we built around being loyal, accommodating, forgiving, or endlessly resilient suddenly feels like a costume we can’t wear anymore.

Betrayal exposes:

• where we over-gave

• where we ignored our intuition

• where we confused self-abandonment with love

• where we trusted someone more than we trusted ourselves

This isn’t self-blame. It’s self-revelation.

Rohr would say the “fall” is not a failure — it’s the moment the false self loses its grip.

The Descent: Necessary, Unwanted, Transformative

Rohr calls this the “necessary suffering” that initiates the second half of life. It’s the season where:

• certainty dissolves

• ego loses control

• old coping strategies stop working

• the heart breaks open

In betrayal healing, this descent looks like:

• grieving the version of yourself who didn’t know

• grieving the relationship you thought you had

• grieving the future you planned

It’s raw. It’s disorienting. It’s holy.

Because this is where the true self begins to emerge.

The True Self: Who You Become After the Shattering

Rohr’s second half of life is marked by:

• humility

• authenticity

• inner freedom

• spiritual groundedness

• the ability to hold paradox

• a deeper, quieter strength

This mirrors the StrongHeart Warrior path: the movement from survival to sovereignty.

After betrayal, the true self begins to speak:

• “I will not abandon myself again.”

• “My boundaries are sacred.”

• “I choose relationships that honor my worth.”

• “I trust my intuition now.”

• “I am no longer available for anything that harms my peace.”

This is not the old self rebuilt. This is a new self born.

Falling Upward as a Betrayal-Healing Framework

Here’s how Rohr’s themes map directly onto the healing journey:

1. The Fall → The Awakening

Betrayal forces a confrontation with truth. The wound becomes the teacher.

2. The False Self → The Masks We Wore

People-pleasing, over-functioning, minimizing red flags — these were survival strategies, not identity.

3. Necessary Suffering → Emotional Integration

The pain is not punishment; it’s the breaking of illusions.

4. Descent → Nervous System Healing

You learn to sit with discomfort, regulate your body, and rebuild safety from the inside out.

5. Shadow Work → Radical Self-Honesty

You face the parts of you that tolerated too little or trusted too much.

6. Surrender → Releasing Control

You stop trying to fix the past and start choosing your future.

7. Rising → Reclaiming Self-Respect

You rebuild from truth, not fear.

A Personal Note: The Descent and the Subtle Rise

I’ll be honest — it took me a long time to see betrayal through this lens. For a while, all I could feel was the collapse. The confusion. The ache of realizing that the life I was holding together with both hands was never going to be the life I imagined. I didn’t have Rohr’s language back then. I didn’t know anything about “two halves of life” or the false self or necessary suffering. All I knew was that everything hurt.

But looking back, I can see it now: life was trying to transform me. Life was trying to mold me into someone stronger, clearer, more awake. It was life’s way of saying, “You are better than what you are settling for.” And as much as I resisted that truth, it kept whispering to me through every crack in the old story.

The descent was hard — harder than I ever expected. It stripped me down to the bone. It forced me to confront parts of myself I had avoided for years. It made me rebuild safety from the inside out. But the rise… the rise has been subtle. People imagine healing as a firework, a sudden burst of light and clarity. But for me, it’s been more like a soft glow. A quiet strengthening. A steady returning to myself.

It’s in the way I trust my intuition now. It’s in the boundaries I hold without apology. It’s in the peace I protect like it’s sacred. It’s in the way I no longer abandon myself to keep someone else comfortable.

The rise didn’t announce itself. It revealed itself — slowly, gently, faithfully.

And that’s the paradox Rohr names so well: the fall feels violent, but the rising is often tender. It’s the kind of transformation you only recognize once you’re already living it.

The Rise After the Ruin

Rohr reminds us that the spiritual journey is not linear. We don’t climb; we spiral. We descend so we can rise differently.

Betrayal is not the end of your story. It’s the end of the chapter where you lived small.

The second half of life — the StrongHeart half — is where you live true.

And sometimes, it takes a fall to finally rise.

And when you do rise, it won’t be loud. It won’t be dramatic. It will be steady, grounded, unmistakably yours.

A quiet glow that says: “I made it. And I’m not going back.”