A close-up of a delicate white daisy flower with several petals missing, lying on a soft surface, evoking the classic "he loves me, he loves me not" petal-plucking game. Some petals remain on the flower while others are scattered nearby. Soft, ethereal lighting with a dreamy, slightly melancholic mood. Sophisticated and painterly style.

Don’t believe the lie of rejection

Recently, my son’s dad has been making an effort to be more present in his life. This means that I have had to face emotional wounds that I thought had been healed but were really just compartmentalized. “Out of sight, out of mind” doesn’t equate to “I’m over the pain.” When he first returned to our lives in early 2025, I underwent an intentional and focused period of healing, including intensive therapy, which was incredibly effective. It helped to desensitize me to painful memories and to recover faster from being triggered. Well, fast forward to late 2026 and I’m recognizing that I underestimated the waves in which the hurt would still come. I was caught off guard by overwhelming emotions that surfaced when he visited: “where is this coming from? I thought I was over this. Why does this still hurt so much?” It turns out that when you have 10+ years of emotional trauma to heal from, you’re probably in a healing process for the long haul unless / until God chooses to work an instantaneous miracle. 

There is something uniquely complex about trying to heal while still remaining connected to the source of your pain, particularly while he builds a life with someone else. It’s the complexity of:

  • Trying to heal a wound that is still being picked at because we have to engage with one another because we share a son. Distance is no longer an option to expedite (or distort) the healing process. 
  • Knowing with great clarity that God isn’t calling me to this relationship and my not wanting the relationship yet still feeling hurt because of his rejection of me.
  • The one who hurt me affirming, “I love you. You’re one of the most important people in my life. You’re the mother of my son,” while still making a choice that communicates “I don’t choose you though.”
  • Wanting him to understand, acknowledge, and regret the depth of my pain but submitting to the possibility that this may never happen.

A few things that have been helping me, and I pray they help you too regardless of the type of rejection, pain, grief, or trauma that you’re going through. 

  1. Honestly lament and grieve what happened.

Don’t compartmentalize or avoid the pain. I’m a huge proponent of sitting with hard feelings so over the course of more than 10 years, I worked to heal emotional wounds tied to my son’s dad. However, once we were in different states, I thought more healing was taking place than actually was happening in real time. This is mainly because my son and my job required more attention than I had to give as one person. I didn’t have the mental capacity or space to give attention to something or someone who was not regularly in my line of sight. Also, object permanence is a real thing for those of us who have ADHD (look it up). When my son’s dad re-entered the picture, it forced me to face what I hadn’t had to. It forced me to say, “I thought I had released this, but apparently there’s still a part of my heart that hurts. I don’t know how to engage with him and not feel the wound.”

Spiritual maturity does not equal emotional numbness or denial of reality. Instead, it takes honest feelings to God, surrendering them to his word and plan for our lives. When thoughts of inadequacy or worthlessness rise, I can acknowledge them with the truth, “yes, he has made choices that still hurt me to this day, but his choices don’t dictate my worth, value, or security. I am still fully known, loved, and chosen by God.” There is no rushing the healing process. The pain will come in waves, and I am strong enough to remain above the waves when they come.

Spiritual maturity also seeks for God to get the glory out of any situation, which often looks like sharing our story with people in the hope that it helps them. 

One thing that’s been particularly difficult for me to reconcile: cognitively and spiritually, I know that my worth isn’t tied to another person’s rejection of me but to God’s love for me and I know that whether or not God is causing him to reject me, God is still allowing the rejection. Yet, this knowledge doesn’t always console the pain in the moment. So, I keep praying and showing up in the presence of God until it does, until what I know cognitively and spiritually becomes what I live out in reality. 

If you’re still crying and hurting 10, 20, or x number of years later, give yourself grace. It means you’re human. It can also signal that there’s still some healing to be done. Don’t be afraid of the process. God will be with you as you do the work. Don’t let fear, ego, or pride keep you from living healed and free on this side of heaven. 

  1. Release what I can’t control

I can’t control his choices, his feelings, or his future. However, I can trust that whatever God has for him, for me, and for our son is for our good. I can trust God’s heart.  

Someone can fail to choose you without your being unworthy of choosing. Someone can love something about you without being capable of giving you the relationship you need. Someone can choose another person without that person being better than you. There’s no competition to win. Nothing to prove. I just need to trust God with the reality that this is the choice my son’s dad made and trust that God in His omniscience, omnipotence, and omnipresence will work out the details of our lives according to His perfect plan for us.

In 1 Samuel 16:1, God asks Samuel, “how long will you mourn that which I have rejected?” The text doesn’t say not to mourn (in fact, there’s a time for that – Ecclesiastes 3:4); it just communicates not to stay in mourning past the point of God’s showing you the new thing that he is doing (in this case, appointing David as king over Saul). God is concerned with our feelings, but I think he’s more concerned with our calling and who we are becoming. Basically, we, like Samuel, just have to get with the program. God was doing a new thing whether Samuel liked it or not. God wasn’t going to surrender the eternal significance of the moment to Samuel’s temporary feelings – Jesus would ultimately come through David’s lineage and with Jesus would come the gift of salvation for all mankind.

We can fully trust God with the most painful parts of our story because he sees all and knows all. We don’t have to obsess over making sense of all the details. It is for his glory and for kingdom impact on earth that he ushers us into the greater that he has for us. He won’t let us settle for less than what He’s called us to. There’s too much at stake. 

Regarding my son’s dad – his choice is merely information about his choice, not a measurement of my worth. My worth was established long before I met him. I don’t have to wait for another human being to make me worthy of being chosen. I already am.

A prayer: “Lord, tell me the truth about myself where his rejection has caused me to believe a lie. Give me peace that does not require him to understand my pain. Help me to accept his choice and trust you with the parts of this story that don’t make sense. Help me to coparent without remaining emotionally attached. Given the reality that exists today, show me what faithfulness looks like. Show me how to walk faithfully through the pain. My obedience is to you alone.”

Name what is and is not in your control. 

Release what is not. 

Steward what is.

  1. Steward what God has entrusted to me

My heart

My relationship with God

My son

My conduct

My healing

My participation in my future

There is newness I feel God leading me into. My focus is alignment with Him and doing the work on myself now so that I am prepared to handle the new. In the now and in the new, God alone is the reference point for my worth.


I don’t have to wait for another human being to make me worthy of being chosen. I already am.