Our Story: From Betrayal to Redemption
To truly understand how far we've come, you have to know where we started—how the layers of our past shaped who we became, and how grace began to rewrite our future.
My Story (Erin):
I grew up in North Texas, in a typical home. When I was 15, my parents divorced. Much like other children, I learned early on how to survive rather than connect. I became fiercely independent, emotionally guarded, and deeply self-reliant.
I was young and I felt had no space to process the grief, no tools to heal. Instead, I buried my pain, blamed others, and carried a hardened heart into adulthood.
Then I met Brett. He seemed to be everything I lacked—secure, successful, steady. Without realizing it, I made him my anchor, expecting him to give me what only God could—identity, value, and wholeness.
Brett's Story:
I was raised in what many would call an ideal home. My mom stayed at home, my dad was a business owner. I became a driven, proud, and self-righteous individual, focused on achievements and my career.
When I met Erin, I was drawn to her confidence and boldness. She was electric—talented and fearless. I thought I could lead her, shape her, maybe even fix her. We married quickly, both of us carrying childhood wounds we hadn’t yet acknowledged, let alone healed.
Our Marriage Unraveling:
We married in 2011. I was walking away from my rodeo career and moving into unfamiliar roles. Brett was already established as a pilot. We didn’t understand how our unresolved pain, unrealistic expectations, and lack of communication would chip away at our foundation.
Without children to ground us, we drifted. We were successful in our careers but distant in our home. Slowly, we became more like business partners or roommates than husband and wife. I began to feel lonely, disconnected, and invisible. Brett buried himself in work. And we both stopped reaching for each other.
In 2022, during a business trip, I made a choice I never thought I would. A client gave me attention—nothing more than casual at first—but I began to overshare. It felt good to be seen. That emotional connection turned into an affair—both emotional and physical—that lasted five weeks.
Each step felt small, but the fall was steep. I told myself lies: that I was lonely, that Brett wouldn’t care, that it didn’t matter. But when I learned about limerence—this idea of intense infatuation driven by fantasy—it hit me. That’s what I was in. Not love. Not truth. Just escape. And I couldn’t bear the weight of the secret anymore.
Brett's Reaction:
When Erin confessed, I was shattered. I left immediately and filed for divorce days later. I clung to Scripture, justifying my choice. I was the victim. I had the right. I was done.
But I didn’t see how I’d been fading long before her confession. I had emotionally checked out. I stopped listening, stopped engaging, stopped pursuing. And not long after the affair, I fell into one of my own. I called it something else. I told myself it wasn’t the same. But it was a betrayal too—an emotional and physical escape of my own.
I wore strength like armor while living a double life. Meanwhile, Erin began to change. She leaned into therapy, support groups, prayer, and truth. She sent letters of apology to my family. She didn’t defend herself. She didn’t beg. She owned what she did and focused on who she was becoming.
Our Separate Journeys:
I, Brett stayed hidden in shame and pride. She stood in humility and repentance. And over time, I saw her transformation. Her consistency. Her faith. She invited me to attend a marriage ministry called ReEngage. I went to check a box—not to reconcile, but to appease.
But God met me there. In that room. In those weeks. He slowly chipped away at my pride, my self-righteousness, and my pain. I saw myself clearly for the first time. I saw my own need for grace.
Eventually, I confessed my own affair during our separation. I, Erin was devastated—but because God forgave the inexcusable in me, I knew I could forgive the inexcusable from Brett. I was initially very angry but decided to responded with grace. I choose not punish, but to give unmerited forgiveness. What reason should I continue the ongoing pain by holding on for a taste of revenge or justice? I was done with unnecessary suffering, I was ready to start healing. I stood in my marriage, firm with that resolve. And that moment changed everything.
Rebuilding Together:
We started from scratch—new boundaries, new routines, new honesty. We rebuilt our marriage brick by brick through daily connection, accountability, spiritual discipline, and therapy. We learned to validate instead of defend, to ask questions instead of accuse, to forgive instead of keeping score.
It wasn’t easy. It was painful and slow and often felt impossible like climbing Mount Everest backwards. But God met us in the ruins. We lost our reputation. We lost friendships. But we found something better—our identity in Christ and a new foundation for our marriage.
Why We Share This:
We don’t share this story to spotlight the failure. We share it because redemption is real. Because betrayal doesn’t have to be the end. And because healing is possible—no matter what side you’re on.
If you’re navigating infidelity, we see you. We’ve been there. We know the shame, the anger, the fear, and the doubt. But we also know that with God, nothing is beyond restoration.
At Commit & Conquer, we offer coaching, community, and Christ-centered tools for those walking through the pain of infidelity.
You are not alone. We’re here. Let’s walk it out together.
