On Truth & Sovereignty

Dishonesty doesn’t just withhold information; it disrupts our ability to act from conscious awareness. It undermines our sovereignty. When we’re denied truth, we’re left making decisions based on partial realities, often manipulated by someone else’s narrative. It’s like walking through a fog someone else created.

Truth may sting, but dishonesty chains. One liberates; the other entangles. As Brené Brown observes, trust is built through honesty, boundaries, and consistency and when it’s gone, we lose more than clarity ¹. We lose our sense of stability and self-trust.¹

And the soul always knows.

Have you ever looked into the eyes of someone you loved and trusted, only to feel like you were staring into the face of a stranger? It’s a haunting kind of grief. When someone you’ve spent time (potentially years) loving, supporting, and feeling safe with suddenly turns, without warning or explanation, into someone unrecognisable, the rupture can shake you to your core.

When Trust Shatters

In the aftermath, impossible questions surface.

Did I unknowingly trigger a wound too deep to be healed? Did I get too close and activate a protective response? Were they ever truly themselves, or was it always a mask that finally slipped? Perhaps most painfully: What does this say about me?

As Bessel van der Kolk explains, when the relational foundation we’ve depended on crumbles, our nervous system reacts as though we’re under threat. It may activate hypervigilance, freeze responses, or dissociation ² leaving us anxious, shut down, or questioning our own reality.

Without clear communication, we’re left with guesswork. The mind spins, “maybe it was this, maybe it was that”, but deep down, we know. The body knows. The intuition knows and ultimately all we can truly trust is our intuition, even when the mind wants or hopes to believe otherwise.

Coping or Reclaiming

So what do we do when trust breaks?

Some harden. They vow never to trust again. Others build walls so high no one can climb them, not even themselves. Many turn to coping strategies, overthinking, self-silencing, numbing, or doubting their worth. Gabor Maté reminds us that these patterns, while protective, often come at a cost to our emotional and physical wellbeing. ³

When we suppress pain to maintain connection, we betray ourselves.

And yet, betrayal can serve as a teacher. Terry Real suggests that relational pain often becomes a gateway to transformation. While one person learns the cost of disconnection, the other may reclaim their voice, their clarity, their truth. ⁴

When deception enters the field, both souls receive lessons.

For the one who hides truth, the lesson is clear: dishonesty costs more than it gains (usually the relationship). What once seemed like a clever avoidance ends up breaking the very thing they hoped to protect, connection, respect, intimacy and trust.

For the one on the receiving end of the lie or betrayal, the gift is sovereignty. To see clearly. To feel the fracture and still remain standing. To declare silently a firm boundary of truth or nothing. One learns the cost of deceit. The other embodies the power of truth.

The pain of betrayal can sharpen our ability to notice red flags sooner or sense when something doesn’t add up. Harriet Lerner encourages us to reclaim our voice after rupture, not through confrontation alone, but by choosing clarity, boundaries, and grounded presence. ⁵ Still, trust, once broken, rarely returns to its original form.

The Sacred Fracture

To me, trust is like a porcelain plate, fragile, beautiful, and meaningful. But once smashed, it never feels the same, no matter how carefully you piece it back together. And yet, there’s something sacred in the fracture. Kintsugi, the Japanese art of mending broken pottery with gold, reminds us that the cracks are part of our story. They don’t need to be hidden. They can shine. Because we are not broken. We are remade. Wiser. Clearer. And more sovereign than ever before.

Reflection invitation: Where in your life are you choosing sovereignty over illusion? And can you trust yourself enough to follow through?

References

1. Brown, B. (2021). Atlas of the heart: Mapping meaningful connection and the language of human experience. Random House.

2. van der Kolk, B. (2014). The body keeps the score: Brain, mind, and body in the healing of trauma. Viking.

3. Maté, G. (2003). When the body says no: Exploring the stress-disease connection. Vintage Canada.

4. Real, T. (2022). Us: Getting past you and me to build a more loving relationship. Cornerstone.

5. Lerner, H. (2001). The dance of connection: How to talk to someone when you’re mad, hurt, scared, frustrated, insulted, betrayed, or desperate. HarperCollins.

© Cheryl O’Connor, 2020 and 2025. All rights reserved.
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