The worst thing about being betrayed is that it almost always involves someone you once inherently trusted. These distraught Redditors know firsthand how painful such a revelation can feel, so read on as they recount how they confronted the devastating reality of their own loved ones’ shocking treacheries.
My father was a game inventor. He sold his game to a larger company and quickly became embroiled in a lawsuit with the company he claimed ran the game into the ground. After that got resolved, he turned on his board of directors, believing they had more or less “mutinied” in secret, and tried to bring down the company. Then, in the middle of that, he turned on his family.
My parents divorced when my sister and I were really young, and he went after my mother for spreading lies (or whatever) about him to discredit him around town (it was a small town) to sway local testimony so that he’d receive less in damages from the lawsuit with the bigger company. That’s what he claimed, anyway.
While that was going down, I was 19, and my sister was 21. One day, I called him up from college to tell him I’d joined the Army, and his response broke my heart: He told me never to talk to him again. When I asked him why he said that anyone who supported his “enemy” (my mother) was his enemy as well.
I argued that I wasn’t going to cut ties with my mother because of his lawsuit and that I wouldn’t cut ties with him either—they were both equally my parents. But this wasn’t good enough for him; he disowned both my sister and me. I’d kind of hoped he’d come around eventually, and I figured that when I was on leave, I’d come back home and try to talk to him.
It never worked; he always remained cold and distant, demanding to know why I was really there. It turned out that he’d convinced himself that my sister and I were involved in “corporate espionage” against his company (back when we were in middle school and high school) and had worked with his board of directors against him.
I finally stopped trying to talk to him when he flipped out on me after I got back from the sandbox. That was the last straw. All that court stuff probably started around 2000–2001. He went after the board in 2004 and disowned my sister and me in 2005. Then, in 2009 he randomly called to wish me a happy Father’s Day (which was weird since I don’t have kids).
He told me he’d lost his case and had to pay around a million dollars in damages and that he wanted back in my life. I told him I’d call when I wanted to talk to him. I still haven’t called him back. However, my sister has had some recent conversations with him, and basically, the guy has convinced himself so well that we turned on him that there is no going back.
He implied (in, like, 2012) that the only way we could ever all be a family again was if we sat down with a lawyer and implicated ourselves as corporate saboteurs. Then he may or may not forgive us. Otherwise, we’d just remain liars to him, and he can’t live with liars in his family. So yeah, my dad kind of lost it and walked out on his kids.
My sister and I were lucky that it happened while we were adults. We both had the most turbulent years of our lives right afterward, and he’s missed out on too much character development in our lives to even be considered a father figure anymore, so it’s not a huge loss for me.
My sister and I are grown-ups, and we are vastly different (and better) people than we were in 2005. So, it’s his loss...
I was recruited by a well-known company that convinced me to sell my family home, move my family away from the city we loved, and give up my well-established 17-year business and income. This company had me work like a dog for a year building up a failing competitor, investing nearly $250,000. In the end, I turned them around and nearly doubled the business in a year. Then they stabbed me in the back.
But then I got shown the door at the end of the year when it came time for my permanent contract. I’ve spent the past five years rebuilding nearly next door out of pure spite, whacking them daily at every chance I get. I’ve rebuilt the income I once had, and now it can’t be taken from me in any way by corporate shills. Hate can be one heck of an inspiration.
I get over it a bit more every day, but watching the person they shoved in to take my place slowly lose what they took from me has been quite healing. Still, that day, that backstab…Betrayal seems like a tame word.
One day, my group of friends (at the time) weren’t sitting at the normal lunch table where we’d all meet for lunch. When I found them sitting elsewhere, I sat down with them and asked them why they didn’t tell me where they’d moved. I was then informed by my “best friend” that they didn’t want me to know. It turned out that they were told they would be cooler if they didn’t hang out with me. But that wasn't the worst part.
They told their parents they had stopped hanging out with me because I was doing weed. Spoiler alert: I’d never even tried weed until I was out of high school.
I moved in with the guy that I was dating. A week after I moved in, he went away for the weekend. I baked and cooked for him while he was away because I knew he was going to be exhausted when he came back. When he did return, he dropped a bombshell: He told me he had met another woman and that we were done. From that moment on, he was emotionally and verbally nasty to me. The witch felt threatened by me because I was his roommate and I was attractive (well, maybe she shouldn’t have been a homewrecking minx).
So, my ex decided to be a jerk to me to prove to her that any feelings he’d had for me were gone. It was horrid. What was worse was that he was a master manipulator. We had mutual friends, and every time they would come over to hang out, he would twist all these little stories and lies to make me look like a crazy shrew. It was awful.
I got out when I finally could and have a better life now.
My roommates and I were going to be moving into a new place, but I was waiting for them to give me a copy of the lease to sign. They waited until moving day to inform me that they didn’t want me to move in with them. I had 12 hours to find a new place to live and wound up having to move in with my girlfriend (whom I hated and soon broke up with) for a few days.
I learned the hard way that nobody at that time liked me, so I changed my personality for the better.
I had a best friend from kindergarten to a month before grade 10 when I walked in on him doing it with my girlfriend (at the time) on my bed. I just noped the heck out of that conversation, went for a drive to a (girl) friend’s, and cried myself to sleep by her side. I never talked to him again, and whenever he tried to start a conversation during our classes, I just put in my earplugs.
He swore up and down that he was pressured into it and that she would do things to him if he didn’t. It’s not like he couldn’t defend himself, so I just called him on his baloney. Anyway, people change, but some things stay the same. I will never forget that moment; it just completely shattered me.
I had two friends who were nice to me whenever I hung out with them one at a time, but they’d always get mean when they were together. They made fun of me for my height (I was 4’3” when I was 13), and they made fun of me for studying—though they proceeded to cheat off of me during tests. The last straw happened when they called my house just to tell me I was worthless.
I never spoke to them again, but I spent the rest of my middle school and high school years as a painfully shy girl with few friends. One of them since got pregnant at 16, and the other is my height now, so five feet tall, but she’s really overweight. As for me, since I got out of that town and went to college eight hours away, I have been much better.
My ex-husband deployed to Thailand. I had saved up money to take my three small children back home to see family. At the time, I had never felt closer to my husband. He had just recovered from a bad experience that nearly cost him his life, I had just had major neurosurgery, and our youngest child was only three months old. I loved my family and thought my husband was a saint. I was so wrong.
While on my trip to Texas to see my family, I tried to buy diapers, but my card got declined. I thought it was a mistake, so I tried again, but to no avail. A friend paid for my diapers, and I immediately checked my bank and discovered that I was overdrawn. I contacted the Red Cross to have my husband call me. He told me that the Army made a mistake on his paycheck and he would try to fix it.
It did not get fixed. I had to borrow money from relatives to get back home with my children and feed them until the next payday. A couple of weeks later, my husband came home, and we were scheduled to attend this big formal ball. During the festivities, one of his friends alluded to my husband having three girls at once. I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
When I questioned my husband, he panicked and explained that while he was in Thailand, he had spent all the money I had saved on some ladies of the night and now was afraid he had an STD and that I would need to get checked, too. I remember being thankful for my friends because I didn’t get out of bed for about three days. Total and complete devastation.
My girlfriend’s mother mistreated her for 27 years before she sought help and got away. She has a two-year-old (not mine), and her mother still wants custody even though the court has told her no. So her mom decided to play dirty. The week leading up to Christmas, her mom flooded her email inbox with horrible emails asking her when she was going to off herself, telling her that nobody likes her, and even suggesting methods to end her life, etc.
It would take too long to type it all out, but it’s worse than any horror movie. It may not be a betrayal in the traditional sense, but it is a betrayal for any mother to do this to their own flesh and blood.
During my first marriage, I inherited a wonderful stepdaughter. We later had two more daughters together, too. One Christmas, my grandmother sent us some presents—but only for our little two, and not for my stepdaughter. It was odd, but I always tried to see the best in people, so I called my dad to see if she had just forgotten.
Well, we all know that when people get caught off guard, they blurt out the truth. Apparently, my grandmother told my dad that if she had to buy gifts for all the stepkids, she would be in the poor house. Mind you, this was her only stepgrandchild, and at the time, she was at her vacation home in Arizona. So then, I got angry.
I boxed up all her gifts and sent them back to her with a letter saying that family is family; it doesn’t matter who gave birth to that child because she’s my daughter. But my grandmother just didn’t get it, and still doesn’t, and my dad—for fear of getting written out of the will—sided with grandma. So, we don’t talk to him, either.
It’s sad, but I stood my ground for a good cause. I may not be married to the girl’s dad anymore, but I still love her as my own.
My ex-stepdad tried to have an inappropriate physical relationship with me when I was 15. He’d been my father since I was six, and suddenly, he decided he didn’t want to be anymore. When I told my mom, she confronted him, and he denied everything (duh). She told me I was a liar and that I had invented it. I couldn’t believe it…
The feeling of not being safe in your own home/family was horrible. Without my mother watching my back, I felt so unsafe that I ran to another country just before my 16th birthday. I’m 29 now, and my mom and I have since talked it out. I forgave her, and she left him many years after that. But it still hurts...
Two guys and I were going to share an apartment this year. We were in different parts of the country while getting the paperwork together over the summer, but one of the guys and I got our paperwork in and were good to go. Since we had all previously talked about and agreed upon this living arrangement, I was sure the third guy was just a bit late with the paperwork.
But he never answered our calls, texts, or Facebook messages. I even logged onto Google Chat to find him online, but 10 seconds later, he logged off. I would have felt so bad if he didn’t have a place to live, so I kept vouching for him that he was just late. My parents said he would flake, and my other roommate told me I should just forget about him.
Feeling awful, I extremely reluctantly continued forward, and the two of us signed up for the apartment without him. When it came time for the semester to start, I made an infuriating discovery: The third jerk was living on campus. He NEVER told any of us that he’d found another place to live. I thought I could trust him and give him the benefit of the doubt.
My boyfriend of four years was overheard hitting on a girl at a party by a friend of mine. As if that’s not bad enough, when the other girl brought me up to him, he said, “I’m just using that witch for a place to live”, as I’d been paying the majority of the rent and bills since I make pretty good money.
It would’ve hurt less if he’d just cheated on me with her, but I feel so stupid and used now. It really sucks. I found this out two days ago, and I haven’t been able to sleep since.
My ex-boyfriend and my (ex) best friend started seeing each other behind my back while we were still dating. I had been with my partner for three and a half years, though I had known him for most of my life, and my best friend was someone I’d trusted completely. It took a long time to get over it.
My father cut me out of his life. The price of our relationship with him? $20,000. He always was a deadbeat, but I never saw it. He was my dad; I always saw him through rose-colored glasses, I suppose. My parents were divorced when I was five (my brother was seven), and my brother could see through his nonsense, but I couldn’t. At 10, my brother stopped visiting our dad altogether and only saw him maybe five times in total throughout his teenage/adult life.
Not me, though. I was always there for our dad when he was sad, even when he did unforgivable things. He cheated on his girlfriend (spoiler alert: he cheated on all his girlfriends), and she left him. I even gave him my cat to keep him company while I wasn’t visiting (I was 11ish, so that was the best I could do). I always defended him to my brother and mom, but truth be told, he always was a rather terrible person. I saw this as an adult, but heck, he was my dad, and I loved him anyway.
Sadly, my brother eventually took his own life, and my dad found out he was entitled to 50% of my brother’s “estate” (he was a 30-year-old problem drinker, and his home was his only asset and he also hadn’t filed his taxes in two years). My dad told me not to worry, that he wouldn’t be going after my mom for his 50% and that he’d sign whatever needed to be signed and wouldn’t cause problems.
Two weeks later, my mom called me and said that my dad wouldn’t even sign the papers so she could move on dealing with the estate, never mind signing away “his half”. So I called him, assuming there had been some sort of misunderstanding. It went horribly: He proceeded to yell and scream at me that I was a money-hungry witch just like my mother, blah blah blah, COMPLETELY unprovoked...
That way, he could justify taking the money and deserting us, which is exactly what he did (I’m such an idiot when it comes to this stuff that my husband had to explain it to me). I didn’t need that kind of anger in me, so a couple of months later, I sent him a message to let him know that I’d forgiven him for what he’d done and that I hoped he was happy and well. I never heard back.
Meanwhile, I then had to explain to my two boys why they weren’t seeing grandpa anymore, either. This was our second Christmas with no brother or dad for me, and it still feels awful.
My girlfriend up and left me for my best friend one day. He lived with my three other good friends, too, and they didn’t exactly go out of their way to help me get through it. So every night I was free, I had to choose between wallowing alone or going to my friends’ house and seeing them together.
My best friend got my girlfriend pregnant. We were 14 at the time. We went to a party, and I got hammered and fell asleep. When I woke up the next morning, I couldn’t remember anything from the day before. My girlfriend wouldn’t answer any of my calls, and she avoided me at school. When I mentioned to my friend that I hardly remembered anything from the party, he started talking about how crazy and awesome it was.
Yet, when I finally started talking to my girlfriend again, she didn’t mention the party to me at all. That should have been the first red flag. I think two or three weeks later, my girlfriend didn’t show up at school. So, I asked her best friend (my girlfriend’s best friend was my best friend’s girlfriend) where she was, and she told me my girlfriend was at the dentist’s.
But when I asked my girlfriend about it a couple of days later, she didn’t know what I was talking about. Confused, I confronted her best friend and asked where my girlfriend really was that day. Her answer floored me. She said that my girlfriend was pregnant with my baby—that I knew that my girlfriend had gone to the doctor to confirm that she was pregnant with my baby.
Panicked now, I called my girlfriend, wondering what the heck was going on. She told me that we had done it at the party and that it was my fault for not using protection. I realized she had to be lying because everyone had told me that I’d passed out on the couch and laid there all night. After I got it confirmed, I started asking around whose baby it really was.
It turned out it was my best friend’s baby (someone saw them kiss in a bedroom). I confronted her about it, and she admitted it all…but then she told me that my friend had actually attacked her, and started crying. I called my friend, and he admitted to sleeping with her but swore he never forced her. It was all really weird.
A few months later, I moved away (nothing to do with any of that), and I haven’t spoken to either of them since. Last I heard, my friend was in prison.
I’d looked up to a man who was a friend, a mentor, and like a father figure to me. He convinced me to leave my position and come work for him. He said he would get me promoted and help me achieve my goals, that he needed me on his team, etc. So, I went to work for him, and it was like working with Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.
He insulted me, talked about me behind my back, and used me as a scapegoat for all the problems he was having with the rest of his staff. In fact, he completely derailed my reputation and career. It took me four years of busting my butt to get my reputation back. I still don’t understand why. It was one of the worst experiences of my life.
I was 24 years old and truly in love with a girl for the first time, having learned the difference between loving a girlfriend and being in love. I was with her for two years. I also had a guy who was the best friend I’d ever had; he was more like a brother than any of my siblings. However, he was also a guy who only married his wife because she got pregnant, and he cheated on her all the time. I shouldn't have trusted him.
He had that special combo: being both really good-looking and having the gift of gab when it came to women, so they were always throwing themselves at him left and right. Long story short, I caught both my girlfriend and my best friend in lies about what they had been doing the night before. I confronted my girlfriend, and she admitted she’d been sleeping with him for a couple of months.
My roommate had to physically restrain me and threatened to call for law enforcement when I attempted to leave with a baseball bat in hand to go after my so-called “best friend”. I’ve never felt that level of hurt and betrayal since, and even 20 years later, I still have major trust issues.
My father left town when I was six months old. Even when he was around, I think he only saw me a handful of times. I did not even see a picture of him until I was 16. Not kidding; I did not even know what he looked like. But my old boss went to high school with him and showed me my dad’s picture in their school yearbook and kindly looked up his contact information and everything for me.
When I got up the courage to call, I spoke to my grandfather (my dad’s dad) for the first time. That was the worst phone call of my life. He told me that I had made a mistake by calling and said that I should never contact them ever again and that I should “go to heck”. He (my estranged grandfather) passed a month later—karma is cruel. My mother never spoke to me about any of this; my father has always been a mystery to me.
I had been told by various people very close to me that my dad had left the country, that he passed in the Gulf conflict, or that he was in prison. Now that I am older (23) and I have a son of my own, it is hitting me hard. I’d put it in the back of my mind until my son was born, but the day after he was born, I spent five minutes on Google and found my dad’s current address and phone number.
My dad had changed his name after I was born, but he was very easy to find. In my five-minute search, I also found out that he has a wife and kids and is living in an area where the median income is over $135,000 (a suburb of Seattle). I even got a Google street view picture of his house. He has never paid child support.
This man left me when I was a baby and was able to completely rebuild his life. His family has no idea that I exist. I cannot begin to tell you how much this has impacted my life. There is no worse betrayal than child abandonment. But it is not all bad; I had a child at 20, worked full-time through college, and graduated because I was driven to be a better man from my own experiences.
I would never leave my child after what I have been through. I do not know if I should contact my dad via phone or just show up at his front door and give his family the shock of their lives.
So, I’m having a party. A buddy of mine had a habit of getting really angry over small things and then taking “revenge”. His revenge would always be something petty you wouldn’t even ever know about. Like, he once drooled into my wallet. One night, he got angry again, so Chuckles went and popped holes in all my rubbers. That’s bad, but he came back the next day saying he forgot something and then threw them away.
As I was being told this story, I also learned that another one of our friends at the time watched him do it. He literally watched him do it and did/said nothing. I asked him why he didn’t say anything, and he said it was because he didn’t want Chuckles to get mad at him. To me, that was the worst thing about the story, and I told him so. That wasn’t the only time he watched people messing up in my place and doing nothing.
He is the type of person that can do no wrong. The kind that can do whatever he wants, and you should just forgive him because you’re friends and everyone owes him something. Like, he refuses to acknowledge that some of the stuff he does is messed up. He and his mom once got into a fight, so he went out, got wasted, and then drove back home. Stuff went down; we don’t know what exactly because he didn’t think he did anything wrong.
But his mom had law enforcement take him into custody, and she got a two-year restraining order placed on him. Things like that don’t happen unless you do something. We’ve not been friends for some time now, and I told him it’s because he’s a jerk. He’s one of the worst people I’ve met, and I’ve met some really bad people. But those people at least understood their bad behavior was bad.
I felt betrayed when Dove started putting three ice cream bars per box instead of four. At first, I thought it was a mistake; upon further inspection, I finally saw some small text on the box stating that there were indeed only supposed to be three bars inside now. They didn’t even lower the price. I have never been so disappointed and hurt in my life.
I dated the guy I lost my v-card to for about six months. I thought I was “in love” at 17/18 and was blind to his faults. He was older and had a kid from what I thought was an ex-girlfriend, per his story, but it turned out he was engaged to her the whole time we were seeing each other. I already had trust issues, so that didn’t help. I found out a week before his wedding and promptly broke all ties.
He still tried getting me back a month later.
When I was a teenager growing up, my brother and I had a friend who came from a divorced family. His parents had been divorced since he was a toddler. His mom chose a boozer who beat her over her kids. So, he more or less lived with us during high school. From the time he was 15, he worked two, sometimes three jobs: bussing tables, cutting grass…whatever he could to pay for his car.
He got a job at a local electrical co-op (Rural Power Company). There was a man there who was “acting” as his mentor. To this day, I don’t know what the man’s job was; he wasn’t really a supervisor. So, my friend did all this guy’s dirty work. The guy sent him to the CEO’s house every weekend to clean his yards (the guy had a mansion and lakes on about 100 acres of property).
But even though he was still in high school, he now had a full-time job as a night dispatcher at the co-op. From 4 pm to 11:00 pm, he took the service calls when people had no power. It was a pretty good full-time job for someone in high school. His mentor reminded him daily of his good fortune. Then he started having to go to the guy’s house to cut his grass, take out his trash, and feed his dog.
When the man went out of town, my friend had to go stay at his house and could not leave. On the weekends, we wanted to go out and party, but he couldn’t go because he had to house-sit.
Still, because he had that evening job, he was able to go to college during the day and get a college degree. For about six years, my friend did everything this man wanted him to until the big day finally came. And how did he repay him?
A big-time supervisor job opened up at the company: an office job with a title, a company vehicle—the works. But the man hired his niece’s high school dropout boyfriend with zero work history…all the while telling my friend he was getting the job. Obviously, my friend immediately lined up another job and put in his two weeks’ notice.
The guy then informed my friend that he would have to pay the company back for the work-related tuition assistance he received. My friend had to set up some kind of payment plan to pay the company back.
My ex-husband’s brother was a jerk. His daughter tracked her grandmother down when she was 20, and that witch told her to go away. She didn’t and found her dad, who wanted nothing to do with her. His wife of 16 years left him over it. Grandma called the girl and told her it was all her fault that her son’s life was now ruined and she should go crawl back into the hole she crawled out of. I found out about all of this from my son, who was 16 at the time.
So I called the poor girl and invited her over so she could hang out with my son. It turned out her mother had passed a few months previously, and she didn’t have anyone and just wanted to belong. My ex threatened to take me to court to get custody of our son if I continued to have contact with her (I laughed at him). She felt so bad for “causing all this trouble." Then one day, she just vanished.
This was all years ago. Occasionally, she and my son still talk, but my understanding is that she’s pretty messed up. I blame them. She was a wonderful young woman who needed love and acceptance during a rough time, and they not only rejected her, they tried to make her out as a horribly selfish person. I wish my love and acceptance could have been enough for her.
I think I wanted to make a point. I guess it’s this: Take love and acceptance where you find it. If you do reach out to someone and they reject you, it has nothing to do with you, nothing at all.
My mom wasn’t a part of my life from the age of two to pretty much now. My dad got custody when they divorced, which was pretty rare in 1964. My dad raised me, which was great; he was the best dad ever. But life was far from perfect: The problem was his work took him away for long periods of time, anywhere from three days to three months, so my grandma raised me as well, and I spent lots of time with other relatives.
It was very difficult growing up in the 1960s without a mom in a small town. Everyone else had a mom. As a kid, my mom would promise to show up to visit and then not do it. I honestly thought my parents didn’t spend time with me during my childhood because I wasn’t good enough. Fast forward to last month when I ended a 19-month relationship because he was messing around with his other girlfriend of four years (who’s married) the whole time.
He kept following me, calling me, texting me, threatening to take my life, and keyed my car, etc. I got a stalking protective order, but he disobeyed it several times and is now incarcerated. Last night, I went dancing with a friend, and when I walked by one of my ex’s friends in the parking lot, she started screaming at me that she hates me and I’m a hussy. I can’t even begin to imagine the things he’s telling people.
I’ve given up any relationship I’ve had with his friends or mutual friends. I trust no one right now. I’m lonely and fighting depression. My impact statement to the judge, and I’ve thought long and hard about this, is to request they keep him locked up for at least a year, mostly so I can feel safe and hopefully he won’t be so determined to be mean and vindictive.
I would move in a heartbeat, but I own my home and have children established in local schools.
I was betrayed by my God-dang brain. I had my phone in my left hand and toilet paper in the other. I proceeded to wipe my butt with my phone and dropped it into the toilet without realizing it.
I must have been three or four years old, playing in the kitchen. My father, at the kitchen table, launched into a rage-filled rant at the top of his lungs about how useless his children were and how his children were such burdens to him, and he wanted to run away and leave us all because of his horrible, worthless children. My mother must have seen the look on my face and yelled back, “They’re good kids”.
Then my father turned his anger and rage at her. It lasted a long time. That was my father’s debut into a long career as a rage-filled brutish parent. It was also the last time my mother ever stuck up for us. Ever. But it launched her long career as an enabling narcissist who would throw any of her children under the bus if push came to shove—which it did. Often.
Now, because it’s her turn to be helpless and dependent on other people, she acts like she gave me a kidney and that I should give up my life to take care of her. In truth, she was pretty much just an egg donor full of resentful entitlement for her minimal parental involvement. My school would actually have to call the house periodically to ensure I was being taken care of.
The one time I thought she stepped up to the plate, she prevented my father from stabbing me—twice—but she told me she only did it because if I went to law enforcement, my father would have ended us both. Before he passed, my dad did mellow a bit and copped to some (not all) of what he did during those years. It wasn't nearly enough.
But Mom still makes it clear she doesn’t give a fig about her children outside of what she thinks we “owe” her and is still a complete narcissist. When my husband passed, and the house was robbed while he was dying, I called her to tell her, and she said, “Oh, that’s too bad. You know, there’s a cafeteria here and a little store where I can buy milk and bread”.
So yeah, I think my mother’s disregard for her children, even as toddlers, was the biggest betrayal.
My friend intentionally grabbed the controller from my hands so I would die and lose my last life in the last level of Battle Toads. Screw that guy.
I’m currently facing three pretty serious criminal charges alongside eight other friends. We were all out drinking one night, and one of the people I was with started a fight. Without thinking and without knowing what had escalated it, I turned around and saw a guy wailing on about three of my friends. My friends all jumped in, and so did I, once again not knowing who started it or even thinking that this might have been a bad idea.
Long story short, the guy was yelling at his girlfriend but staring at my friend while cursing, saying things like “You’re a witch”. He just punched him once. But then things took a dark turn. Everybody else got in, and they ended up putting him in a coma. The guy who started fighting my friends was literally the only person I saw and fought; he was still standing and coming to his friend’s rescue. I don’t know why, but I thought there were way more of them, so I just chose my fight and stuck with it.
They all dipped out except for one other friend and me. That other friend was someone I’d just barely introduced to everyone that night. Then the owner came out with a pistol and said, “Everybody stay”, and actually pointed it at us. He curbed us until law enforcement arrived. We were both stuck with three charges, and I have not spoken to that circle of people since I got caught for one reason: I don’t want them to get caught, too.
I’ve known these people for a long time, and we have gone through A LOT together, and they’ve accepted and respected the fact that I’ve cleaned my life up; I’m no longer cursing, I’m not slurring my speech, and I’m no longer talking like I have the grammar of a middle school dropout. I’ve taken classes and moved up to a management position in a respectable industry. Just two years ago, the only money I had went into methamphetamines, smokes, and water.
My friends are bad people in the sense that they are lawbreakers, but they’re also good people…and I do mean they are GOOD people; they’ve shown me nothing but loyalty and love since day one. Now, fast forward to this trial. As I said, I haven’t talked to them because I don’t want them to get caught. My lawyer told me the officers would have my phone records to see if I called anybody I shouldn’t be talking to.
Regardless, it didn’t matter in the end; they got caught by video cameras showing their car’s plates about a month and a half later. I’m not sure if they know that’s how they got caught, but when I saw them for the first time in the courtroom for our preliminary hearing setting, it crushed me. They wouldn’t look me in the eyes.
I lost my family away from family. I got bailed out before anybody could interrogate me, and I know once I get on that stand, the court will try and get me to turn against them. Or, if I try for a plea deal with the DA, I’ll have to throw them under the bus. So, do I do it? Do I toss ‘em with a load of charges, or do I keep quiet and risk losing the job I’ve worked so hard for?
It’s difficult when these people are brothers to me. If it wasn’t for our last names being different, there would be no difference in each of our beliefs in our bond. My stomach is churning typing this up. This is by far the biggest decision (and perhaps betrayal) I’ve ever faced.
My best friend and my ex-boyfriend are probably getting married soon.
My ex squandered a year of my life lying to me. I had a feeling something was going on with her and my “best friend”, but every time I asked (and it came up often), she’d lie and try to convince me that I was paranoid. Eventually, after I broke up with her, I found out they were sleeping together. Apparently, it had only been going on for a few months, and there was no overlap, but when someone consistently lies to you for so long, it’s impossible to believe anything they say.
This was three years ago, and I haven’t been able to connect with anyone since. I have two regrets: not breaking up with her when I first saw the signs and not smacking him when I had the chance.
Currently, I am going through a divorce as well as offender trials with my husband, the father of my toddler. Three months ago, he beat me in front of our daughter and put me in the hospital. Instead of giving an apology, he bragged about it. Then, he tried to get a restraining order on ME and tried to take our daughter, claiming I was the abusive one (I’m 115 lbs, and he’s a 210 lb trained cage fighter).
At the same time, I learned he’d been having an affair with my best friend since before I met her. They actually formed a plan to have me meet her and become close to her so they could more easily have an affair. I let her live with us for six months. The State brought a lot of charges against him for what he did to me, and now they are both telling me she is testifying against me, and they are both going to take my daughter from me and make my life awful.
The evidence against him is astounding, and I can easily discredit her testimony…but still. Their betrayal is beyond painful. The State is now trying to bring charges against her as well, and he’s getting no less than two years in prison. The family court also awarded me full custody, and I was able to take my name off our lease and stick him with the eviction.
He has also been apprehended three times in the last two months in front of me, so karma is definitely working out in my favor.
In Year 12, my senior year, I was pretty much set with the idea that when the Senior Formal/Prom came around, I’d be going alone if I bothered to go. One day between classes, I got stopped in the corridors by E, who asked if I’d be interested in going to the formal with C because she didn’t have anyone to go with, and she thought I was cute. C had changed schools the previous year, but I remembered her, so I said yes.
I got her phone number from another one of her friends, called her that night, and confirmed everything. I was feeling pretty happy. Then, about two weeks before the formal, I asked one of her friends if C was going to the formal with her group or if she wanted to come with my group. Her friend looked at me with one of those what-the-heck-are-you-talking-about faces.
I came to find out that C had decided to go with somebody else instead: D, another girl from her group. Nobody seemed to think this was something I should know. I was devastated. So, the girl I thought I was going to take to the formal not only decided to go with someone else, another girl, but she decided not to tell me about it.
I was only going to be used as an entry ticket since the only way she could attend was to go with someone from the school. It was a huge joke to her and her group on MySpace. They all thought it was hilarious. It was a plot to lead me on, put me in a compromising position, and then be all, “OMG, what are you doing, you perv?!”
I have an incredible amount of confidence issues around women now because of this.
The biggest betrayal I’ve experienced? All three of my miscarriages. My body has betrayed me through every pregnancy so far, and I hate myself for being this way—this broken woman who can’t even give my significant other a child.
I must have been pretty young still, eleven, maybe. I wasn’t close with my mum; I didn’t tell her anything about my life because every bad thing that happened to me had to be my fault somehow. She didn’t want anything to do with my life, really. Anyway, I was forced to go to my aunt’s house every Saturday night with my mum and her parents. My aunt had two sons, and I was the only female grandchild at the time.
My cousins would always torment and hurt me; it had been like that since I could remember. Some of my earliest memories are of them hurting me. I have a big scar on my right arm from them slicing me with glass and not getting stitches because my mum refused to take me; I can remember her scrubbing it with bathwater instead and my screaming when I got home from their house when I was three or four.
I was sitting on the couch, and my cousins started attacking me. I couldn’t hit them back, or the adults would hit me back even harder than them. One of them decided to try and force his foot into my crotch. I couldn’t stop him because he was so dang fat I couldn’t shift him off me. I started crying to my mum for help because I was now trapped and scared.
My aunt was laughing at what was going on. My nan was sitting next to me, not saying a thing, just petting the cat, and my mum and grandad were in the kitchen making dinner. Instead of helping me, my mum stormed into the room and screamed at me to shut up. I was begging her to help me. I eventually got away and ran out of the house.
My mum followed behind me, screaming that I was showing her up and that I was the worst kid in the world, and it’s no wonder they hate me. I told her that I was going home and asked her why she wouldn’t help me. Apparently, I deserved it. She physically dragged me back inside, and the torment just continued until we left.
This kind of stuff happened every week until my cousins decided we couldn’t go to their house anymore. Yes, they decided it. I rarely saw my grandparents after that; they would blank me in the street. As for my mum not saving me, it was normal. She did bad stuff as well, and she let other people hurt me all the time and instigated a lot of the mistreatment that happened.
That day was the worst, though, as I was begging for help. I was scared, and she saw what was happening, and she chose her awful family over the person she was supposed to care for most. She did worse stuff herself, but that memory hurts more than her own attacks.
My brother slept with and then later married my girlfriend...with whom I had two kids.
Growing up, my once best friend and I were next-door neighbors. We were the same age and attended the same private school. We were practically brothers. We used to have sleepovers and play video games together. We loved playing basketball, too. We had a ton of shared experiences. He didn’t have the best parents; his dad was a heavy drinker, and his mother was neglectful.
So, we kind of brought him into our family. During family trips across states, we would bring him along with us. He knew all my family members and relatives. We really treated him as a member of the family. We attended the same high school as well. I started dating the girl who was the love of my life in 10th grade. My friend accepted her, and we had awesome times together. That only made what he did hurt even more.
During our senior year, she got pregnant, which came as a surprise to both of us. We hadn’t really planned things out before, and now we had to put our futures on hold. Still, we both graduated, and a few weeks later, she gave birth. We were at an impasse, but she later agreed to put her future on hold to raise the child.
I was scared about how I would support a child; I could barely take care of a goldfish, and now I was responsible for providing for a family. Fortunately, my best friend told me he would help us out to relieve some of the burdens. I was really thankful to him. He sat me down and assured me that he’d always be there for us.
I couldn’t afford to go to college while taking care of my girlfriend and child, so I decided to join the army. I felt reassured by the fact that my best friend would be back home taking care of them. I figured the army was the best way I could support them while making decent money.
During my period of service, I got stationed in Afghanistan and saw some absolutely terrible, awful things: people dying, limbs exploding…I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. When I finally had a break in service, I came back home. I wanted to surprise my friend and girlfriend. First, I decided I would visit my friend’s house.
So, I walked to his house and knocked on his door, but there was no answer for a long time. Finally, about three minutes later, he came to the door in a hurry. We hugged, and I came inside. Conveniently my girlfriend was there too, and I was thrilled to see her. I asked them if we could all play some video games like we used to do for old times’ sake.
My friend busted out his old Nintendo 64, and we all started playing Mario Party. I was winning until my best friend landed on Boo, and he decided to snatch my gold star away from me, putting me in last place. I couldn’t believe he would do that to me after all the years of friendship we’d had. I’d never felt more betrayed in all my life.
That moment was the end of our friendship.
One of my best friends started to get snippy with me during our sophomore year of high school. She finally admitted one day that she was upset I was going to be an exchange student the next year. I offered not to go if she didn’t want me to, but she told me it was fine and to go. During my year, I called her on her birthday to surprise her, and all she did was lecture me for waking her up. When I got home, I invited her to go to a music festival with me, but she was busy and couldn’t go.
Only, I ran into her at the festival. She just stood there and stared. It was extremely awkward. We ended up having a theatre class together, but she hung out with other people. One of whom she introduced me to as my replacement while I was away. She agreed to utilize the “peer counseling” our ASB offered because we knew the people that would mediate. We set it up during the theatre class, so I got called out and went to the office.
I knew she got the message because I was there, but she never showed. After about 15 minutes of waiting, the receptionist told me my friend had called the office and said she couldn’t do it. As soon as I got back to theatre class, the teacher grabbed me to do a demonstration in front of the whole class. I barely managed to keep it together because I was heartbroken, and she was just sitting there, so detached.
I lost it as soon as I got back to my seat, and by the time I got myself together, she was gone. Apparently, my crying made her uncomfortable, so she feigned being sick. The only contact we really had after that was her sending a friend of hers from theatre class to say happy birthday to me while she watched it happen.
On the plus side, a friend I had known even longer (and who was over at my house more often since she was also friends with my older sister) has since become the best friend and honorary sister I could ever ask for. She is the Turk to my JD.
My friend promised she’d look after my rabbit while I was away at school for my first year. She didn’t, and I had to give him away because my parents didn’t want to care for him.
My birth father accused me of being pregnant (I was most definitely not and wasn’t even active yet) to attempt to get out of having me on his health insurance when I was 16. He’d stopped paying child support when I was 14 (which I didn’t blame him for at the time). My mom was a single mother of two children at the time. In contrast, when my stepsister (his new wife’s daughter) turned 16, he bought her a brand new car, a new 4-wheeler, and a huge wardrobe.
He spoils and dotes on his stepdaughter and new baby girl, yet he was sloshed throughout my entire childhood, only sobering up for his new family. That’s the deepest, most hurtful betrayal I’ve ever experienced, but I look back and laugh at it now, honestly.
The biggest betrayal I have ever experienced is the first one as well. I was 11, maybe 12. I was into Pokemon cards back when there were only like 150 of them. I would save up my lunch money to spend on booster packs in hopes of finding a Blastoise. One day, my mother came home and said she had a gift for me. It was a first-edition holographic Blastoise!
She said she had found it in a store bathroom (maybe some kid was taking booster packs and forgot it or something, I don’t know). I was ecstatic; my mom looked so proud to be able to make me so happy. My best friend, Tommy, lived across the street and was also into Pokemon. I showed him my new card, and we hung out all day like normal. He left, and I went to bed.
The next day, Tommy showed me the new card he had gotten. It was a first-edition holographic Blastoise (if I recall correctly, the limited edition cards said what number it was on it, but I didn’t check that). I was suspicious and checked my binder to see that mine was missing. I confronted him about it, and he said his mom bought it for him.
I told my mom, who called his mom, and his mom told mine that she did indeed buy it for him. Being the trusting young individual I was, I still occasionally looked for my card for months and never found it (because he took it). I lost my best friend, whom I had known from birth that day.
My husband slept with a waitress on our honeymoon. Yes, I found out that night. Yes, I left that night, and yes, I handed him divorce papers within a week. It was a long time ago; I’ve moved on now and am in a very happy relationship.
I made a new friend (who seemed to really like me and was really nice and funny) since I felt like my other friends were slowly getting destructive. I was still friends with my old friends, but I was trying to distance myself from them. Then an incident happened, which basically meant I lost trust in my old friends, and my new friend told me to ditch them. Since my new friend seemed so great and trustworthy, I did.
This meant that pretty much my only friend was with me all the time. Then a week later, my new friend ditched me as well, which left me with nobody. I later found out that my old friends were actually friends with the new friend and told the new friend to do this exact plan: get me to ditch the old friends and then ditch me. Great.
When I was a teenager, my best friend at the time asked me if I wanted to go on a vacation with her. I said no. Fast forward to almost a year later, her mother called me and asked me where I was. I told her that I was in my hometown. I came to find out that my best friend had lied to her about me going on the trip, along with many other things. She used me to cover up all the nights she’d spent at some random guy’s house for the last six months.
Her mother accused me of being a liar and told everyone in the town that I was a hussy and a liar. She even hunted my mother down to tell her all the “things she dug up on me”. My best friend did not stick up for me; she told her mother that I was a liar and just jealous of her instead of coming clean.
My two-year-old daughter was run over by my inebriated stepmother and passed. My father stopped all contact with me because she wasn’t allowed at the funeral.
I was betrayed by a man who had been my closest friend for thirty years. I was godfather to his daughters. After his divorce from a domestic tormentor (she served time for this), I spent lots of time and money helping him get back on his feet. It turned out he drank most of the money away and did little to work on his business. Instead, he spent lots of time in an expensive rebound relationship, developing a taste for fine vino and dining out.
I moved in for a while to help with the kids. He was gone for days at a time—but he wasn’t out working on his business. Before I “came to” to the reality that he was a thief, a boozer, and a liar, I was out $15k, and my mom was out for the $5k he used to avoid foreclosure. He never even thanked her. My love for the kids blinded me and made me a fool.
After a childhood of consistent physical and mental mistreatment by my mother, I finally swung back when I was 16. It was nothing major; I didn’t leave a mark and only swung once in self-defense. But she proceeded to call law enforcement officers and tell them I beat her. So, after sooo many years of torment, I got taken into custody for hitting her. I told everyone about what she did to her children, but nobody cared.
Everything my mom did to us, the court is now saying I did to her. My mother then played the victim card big time. I had to go to an anger management class that threatened me with juvie time if I didn’t stand in front of groups of people and tell them that I had a problem with hitting her, all while she sat in the group looking at me with a smug “I win” look on her face.
After my wife got hammered and slept at her ex’s two nights in a row, I was pretty hurt. I decided to stay and work things out with her since she begged me nonstop. Finally, after a week, I was past the point of just wanting to cease my existence. She ignored my texts telling her that I was considering ending my life, and she instead responded with a text lying that she was staying with her parents.
She even went there and asked if I wanted to talk to her sister, and then immediately left and went back to her ex’s place. She forgot to turn off her GPS tracker, and I met her just five minutes after she cheated on me. Now, I just don’t know what to do. We were married for five years, and all I want is for things to be back to normal, but they never will be.
My ex-fiancée betrayed me. Shortly after we got engaged, I found out that she was cheating on me, and we split up. After about a month, we decided to try again and see if we could make things work out, but we inevitably failed. All in all, it’s a normal story at this point. It’s what I found out later that made it pretty messed up. Apparently, right around the time we got engaged, she actually got pregnant with my child.
You see, she knew that at the time, I was against abortion (not a moral stance or anything, I’d just prefer to have my child than abort it), so she became as deceptive as possible. She started hooking up with a guy at work and then waited about a month to tell me that she was pregnant and that it was his baby. She got him to pay for the abortion of my kid by tricking him into thinking it was his.
This is when we split up, right before she followed through with the abortion. She apparently wanted me to find out that she was cheating so she could have the abortion and go home and rest without having to deal with me. Then, once she felt like she was back to normal again, she found me and decided we would try again. This was all during the month that we split up.
I found out about it later from her best friend. Normally I wouldn’t put much into it, but there were direct emails from my ex-fiancée talking about the whole thing and how it all went down. Her friend felt bad for me and decided that I deserved to know. Apparently, I was the last one to find out—even my own cousin knew before me.
They all just stayed her friend and visited her after the abortion and never said a word to me about any of it.
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