196. A Daughter's Journey: How Betrayal Trauma Impacts Children and the Path to Healing

Episode originally aired on The Choose To Be Podcast with Alana Gordon And Amie Woolsey with guest Hannah Gordon

Hello, hello my amazing beautiful listeners. Welcome. Thank you for joining me today.

As promised from last week’s conversation with Morgan Ellsworth, today I’m airing a very special episode I originally recorded with Alana Gordon on the Choose to Be podcast, where her daughter Hannah joined us to talk about something really tender and real—what it’s like for children growing up inside betrayal trauma and family rupture.

And I just want to say this right away—this conversation stayed with me. There are moments I wish I had heard something like this years ago when I was in the thick of my own experience as a mom. It would’ve softened things. It would’ve helped me see my children differently. And that’s my hope for you listening now—that something in this conversation lands in a way that brings clarity, compassion, or even just a little more space inside your story.

So here it is.

We had a special guest with us today—Hannah Gordon.

And of course, right out of the gate, we had to laugh about the “podcast voice” situation, because apparently I have one and my kids are very aware of it.

But I just want to say how grateful I am you’re here. Last week we talked about how betrayal impacts not just partners, but the whole family system. And when I heard that conversation, I immediately thought—I want Hannah to come on and share her experience.

Because what you’ve lived through matters, and your voice gives people something real to hold onto.

To start simple—what are your three favorite things right now?

Right now it’s honestly these little things I showed you on YouTube, my coloring stuff, and probably my family. When my mom was out of town I realized how much I actually love when we’re all together.

And honestly, I said yes to this because my mom texted me right before school and I just felt like… yeah, I can talk about this. I don’t always talk about it openly, but when I do, it actually feels really validating.

I asked what changed—because it wasn’t always that way.

At first, I didn’t talk about it. It felt shameful. Like it was mine to carry. Like it would burden people.

I think things really shifted around sophomore year when everything became more real and I couldn’t avoid it anymore. That’s when I started to see how much I had been internalizing things as my fault.

And honestly, I think kids just do that naturally. You don’t even consciously think “this is my fault,” but your body and your nervous system kind of decide it for you.

It wasn’t until I started doing work and therapy that I could actually separate what was mine and what wasn’t. And that changed everything.

Because once I stopped carrying shame, I could actually talk about it. And when I talked about it, I realized—no one is judging me. Because it wasn’t my fault.

There was also this layer of confusion growing up.

As a younger kid, you don’t really get explanations beyond the basics. You’re just trying to make sense of energy shifts, tension, absence, emotional disruption.

But as I got older, the questions changed. It became: Why am I not enough? Why did this have to happen? What did I do wrong?

And even now, I still catch myself wanting answers that don’t really exist. Like wanting things to just be better and finished and resolved. But life doesn’t really work that way.

What I’ve realized is I wouldn’t go back and erase it.

Not because it wasn’t painful—it was. But because of where I am now.

I can actually say I would go through it again to become who I am now. And I don’t say that lightly.

It doesn’t erase the hurt. But it means I’ve grown into someone who can hold it differently.

That’s what makes it meaningful.

One thing I’ve learned about trust is I don’t ignore my gut anymore.

I can feel when something is off. I always could. I just used to override it because I was told I was wrong or overthinking.

Now I trust it more. Not perfectly—but more.

And I also see how I learned certain ways of protecting myself in relationships. Some of those patterns came from my family system. Some were survival strategies.

Doing work on that helped me see it clearly instead of just living inside it.

If I could say anything to other teens going through something like this, it would be:

You are not the only one.

It feels isolating. Like you’re the only one carrying this kind of pain. But you’re not.

And telling someone—even just one person—changes things. I thought it would make things worse, but it actually made me feel lighter.

Not better immediately… but lighter. And that eventually leads somewhere different.

And for parents listening, I think the biggest thing I’d say is:

Let your kids feel what they feel.

Even the anger. Even the hard truth-telling. Even when it’s uncomfortable.

Because I needed space to express what I was carrying. And I also needed to not be alone in it.

Both mattered.

And for dads—or anyone who has caused harm—I think what I needed most was for my pain to be fully seen without defensiveness.

Not fixed. Not explained away. Just held.

Because in those moments where that actually happened, something inside me could finally release a little.

And I didn’t feel “better”… but I did feel lighter.

And I think that’s the best way I can describe healing.

It’s not one moment where everything is okay.

It’s a series of moments where things get a little lighter. And over time, you realize you can breathe again in places you couldn’t before.

After listening to this conversation again, I want to name something important for parents:

Your child’s experience is not your job to fix.

There are parts that belong to you to own—and parts that belong to your children’s experience, not yours to take over.

That separation matters. And it’s not easy.

But stepping back allows your child to actually have their own process, in their own timing, in their own way.

If this stirred something in you—guilt, grief, “I should have done it differently”—slow it down.

Repair is where the power is.

It’s never too late to show up differently. It’s never too late for healing to deepen.

Both you and your children get to be choosers of your life.

And that doesn’t mean perfection.

It means presence, awareness, and the willingness to keep moving toward what’s real and what’s healing.

Okay my friends, I hope this episode met you where you needed it to today.

Take care of yourself as you sit with it.