Awake

1. The Implosion as a Catalyst for Awakening

It is the end of my life as I know it.

Sudden rupture. Jen Hatmaker's life irrevocably changed at 2:30 a.m. on July 11, 2020, when she discovered her husband of twenty-six years was having an affair. This moment of profound betrayal shattered her world, revealing a hidden life of deceit and setting off a chain reaction of chaos and grief. The immediate aftermath was marked by shock, an inability to cry, and a desperate desire to rewind time, highlighting the sheer magnitude of the unraveling.

Unbearable pain. The discovery led to an immediate confrontation and his departure, plunging Jen and her five children into an unimaginable crisis. The emotional toll was immense, characterized by screaming, inconsolable sobbing, and a complete loss of time and space. This initial, raw pain was a direct consequence of the betrayal, leaving her feeling flayed and exposed, and forcing her to confront a reality far harsher than any she had ever conceived.

Forced reckoning. This catastrophic event, though devastating, became the unexpected catalyst for a deep personal awakening. It forced Jen to confront not only the external reality of her broken marriage but also the internal narratives and assumptions she had held about her life and herself. The quiet unraveling of her world, click by click, was the painful but necessary beginning of a journey toward truth and self-discovery.

2. Deconstructing Harmful Narratives

At the onset of adolescent sexuality, I hear: Girls’ bodies are a problem and need to be heavily policed.

Purity culture's grip. From a young age, Jen was immersed in a conservative religious environment that instilled a deep sense of shame around female sexuality and personal desire. The "Dead Rose" analogy, where a girl's virginity is likened to a perfect flower that is "destroyed" by premarital physical intimacy, taught her that her body was an offering for boys and easily ruined. This narrative placed the sole responsibility for sexual purity on girls, fostering embarrassment and self-consciousness.

Crippling expectations. This culture extended into young adulthood, with experiences like being shamed at "Falls Creek" youth camp for "inappropriate" shorts, reinforcing the idea that women's bodies needed constant policing. The message was clear:

• Girls' bodies are a problem.
• Girls are responsible for a pure bedroom.
• Sexual deviance is always the girl's fault.
  This created a pervasive sense of shame and a distrust of her own natural desires, leading her to believe that her body and instincts were inherently problematic.

Universal damage. The book reveals that purity culture's harm wasn't limited to girls; it equally crippled boys. Her son's experience at camp, where he was shamed for sexual curiosity he didn't even understand, mirrored her own. This system, which pathologizes normal sexuality and assigns deviance to emerging desires, forces both genders into hiding, afraid of their bodies, their belonging, and even God. It leaves zero winners, only individuals burdened by shame and a distorted view of intimacy.

3. The Unseen Burden of Codependency

A codependent person is one who has let another person’s behavior affect him or her, and who is obsessed with controlling that person’s behavior.

Denial and control. Jen initially resisted the idea of her own codependency, believing it didn't align with her image as an independent, successful woman. However, reading Melody Beattie's Codependent No More revealed a stark truth: she had consistently ignored problems, pretended circumstances weren't as bad as they were, and stayed busy to avoid confronting difficult realities. Her attempts to manage perceptions and soften others' experiences of her husband's difficult behavior were, in fact, a form of control.

Self-destructive patterns. Jen's codependent behaviors included:

• Managing others' difficult experiences of her husband.
• Making excuses and amends for his actions.
• Privately criticizing his behavior while publicly maintaining a facade.
• Becoming emotionally distant as a form of punishment.
  These actions, intended to preserve relationships and reputations, were ultimately ineffective and deepened resentment. She realized that her frantic interventions only delayed her husband's potential for self-responsibility while keeping her in a perpetual state of anxiety and trauma.

Illusion of control. The core lesson of codependency is that control is an illusion; we cannot change anyone but ourselves. Jen learned that her efforts to "save" her husband from his self-destructive path were akin to trying to save someone who was actively slashing their own life jacket. This realization, though painful, was liberating, shifting her focus from trying to fix others to taking responsibility for her own well-being and emotional state.

4. Reclaiming Personal Agency and Self-Trust

I am my own best friend. I am safe with me. I am home.

From ignorance to empowerment. Jen's journey involved a radical shift from financial ignorance to complete autonomy. For years, she was "car blind" and unaware of basic financial details, relying entirely on her husband. The divorce forced her to confront this irresponsibility, leading her to meticulously manage every aspect of her finances, from bills and bank accounts to mortgages and taxes. This process, initially overwhelming, became a powerful act of self-reclamation.

Trusting intuition. A pivotal moment came when she realized her body had always known truths her mind resisted, such as the predatory nature of a middle school teacher. This newfound trust in her physical and emotional intuition became a guiding force. She learned to listen to her body's signals, recognizing them as trustworthy advisors that could illuminate paths to wisdom and safety, rather than dismissing them as paranoia or hormonal fluctuations.

Defining her own path. This reclamation of agency extended to every aspect of her life, from decorating her home in vibrant, personal colors to buying her own "matte-black 1975 Bronco." These choices, once outsourced or ignored, became powerful expressions of her authentic self. She realized that she was not merely a victim of circumstances but a "powerful co-creator in my own life," capable of building the life she wanted on her own terms.

5. The Indispensable Power of Community

Sometimes the whole truth gets scaffolded by the remaining love elsewhere.

Unwavering presence. In the immediate aftermath of her life's implosion, Jen's family and friends formed an impenetrable fortress of support. Her mother was on her porch every morning, her siblings cleaned and grieved, and her best friends orchestrated a constant campaign of texts, calls, visits, and snacks. This collective presence ensured she was never alone, providing a vital lifeline when she felt completely lost and unable to function.

Acts of profound care. The community's support manifested in countless tangible and deeply meaningful ways:

• Her friends' husbands parked outside during her difficult conversation with her ex.
• Her friend Laura booked an energetic body healing session with Judy.
• Amy "smudged" her house with prayers and sage, cleansing the space of trauma.
• Her girlfriends built her a dream porch bed swing, signing it with messages of love and hope.
• Susan sent a Starbucks gift card every Monday for six months, a consistent "I am still here" message.
  These acts, both grand and small, demonstrated a profound commitment to her healing and well-being, proving that "some love actually is forever."

A new definition of family. This period redefined her understanding of belonging and intimacy. Her "chosen family" became her primary source of connection, filling the void left by her marriage. She found herself "radically attuned to my girlfriends," experiencing a "stunning symphony of friendship" that guided her back home. This unwavering community became the bedrock upon which she rebuilt her life, proving that love, in its many forms, can hold an entire life together.

6. Rebuilding a Life, Brick by Brick

But I am determined to fix something.

Metaphorical reconstruction. The physical act of rebuilding her demolished front porch became a powerful metaphor for Jen's internal healing process. After her husband left the porch as a "gaping hole," her handy girlfriends, Jenny and Shonna, helped her reconstruct it. This collaborative effort, culminating in a porch "100 percent more beautiful than before it was demolished," symbolized her capacity to rebuild and improve her life despite the wreckage.

Intentional creation. This drive to create extended to other areas of her home and life. She transformed her bedroom into a "feminine, moody oasis," refinished floors, and even kept hanging plants alive for the first time. These acts of intentional creation were not just about aesthetics; they were about reclaiming her space and asserting her choices. She realized that she could actively shape her environment to reflect her renewed sense of self and joy.

Building a new foundation. The ultimate expression of this rebuilding was the construction of a "twenty-eight-seat custom table on a gorgeous stone slab" in her backyard. This massive table, designed to gather all her loved ones, represented her commitment to filling her life with connection and new memories. It was a tangible manifestation of her belief that "one person gone does not beget an empty life" and that she could "build the life I want" from the ground up.

7. Embracing Body Wisdom and Self-Compassion

Jennifer, your body has done so much. It got you this far.

Body as ally. After months of intense trauma and overfunctioning, Jen's body reached its breaking point, manifesting in a severe panic attack and dangerously high blood pressure. This physical collapse, initially terrifying, became a profound lesson in self-compassion. Dr. Amadi's gentle words—"Your body has gone as far as it can on its own. That’s all. It helped you survive. Now it is time to help your body back"—shifted her perspective from self-blame to gratitude for her body's resilience.

Listening to internal signals. She learned to treat her body not as an enemy to be controlled, but as a "trustworthy advisor." This involved:

• Going soft when fear arose, rather than resisting it.
• Practicing deep breathing to calm her nervous system.
• Allowing emotions to "rise, peak, and recede without a fight."
• Accepting medication (Zoloft, anti-anxiety pills) as a temporary partner in her healing.
  This radical acceptance of her body's needs was a stark contrast to her lifelong conditioning to ignore or suppress physical and emotional signals.

Mothering herself. The concept of "mothering herself" became a practical daily practice, exemplified by "Morning Jen and Night Jen." This involved small acts of kindness and care, such as:

• Night Jen cleaning the kitchen and setting up coffee for Morning Jen.
• Morning Jen brushing her teeth and making the bed immediately.
  These seemingly simple routines fostered a sense of tidiness, centeredness, and self-love, demonstrating that nurture can manifest in practical, everyday ways.

8. Spiritual Evolution Beyond Dogma

I remain stubbornly attached to Jesus, devil be damned.

Deconstruction of rigid faith. Jen's divorce and the public backlash she faced for her progressive views (on racism, LGBTQIA+ affirmation, and Trump) forced a profound re-evaluation of her evangelical upbringing. She realized that the "simple", rule-bound structure of organized religion, which once provided safety, had become a source of harm and cognitive dissonance. The church that raised her, she observed, often abandoned core values for power, greed, or lies, particularly when it came to marginalized communities.

Questioning the "right" way. She struggled with the misalignment between what she was taught was "right" and what felt "terrible," especially regarding issues like shaming LGBTQIA+ people or the subjugation of women. This led her to question the very foundations of her faith, realizing that "what is true" often only mattered when it benefited white, straight Christians. Her inability to return to the sanctuary stemmed from a deep cynicism and a need for honesty over polished production.

A relaxed Jesus. Despite her disillusionment with institutional religion, Jen's attachment to Jesus remained steadfast. She discovered a "relaxed" Jesus, far less fragile and judgmental than she had been taught, who was "not rattled by geography or denominations or the f-word." This personal connection, experienced outside the confines of marriage and church, taught her that she was "enough the day I was born," shifting her focus from earning spiritual approval to simply being loved.

9. Choosing Joy and Creating a New Beginning

I decide to wake up and live.

Intentional joy. Faced with the devastation of her divorce, Jen made a conscious decision to actively create joy and magic in her life, rather than passively waiting for happiness to return. This began with small, defiant acts like putting up her Christmas tree in October, a "wild, grand gesture to shoehorn joy into sad places." This intentional pursuit of delight became a powerful antidote to suffering, demonstrating that "life may steal some happiness but it can’t confiscate joy."

"Me Camp" as self-discovery. Her spontaneous decision to spend a month alone in Bar Harbor, Maine, while her child was at summer camp, became her "Me Camp." This solo adventure, her first adult experience without belonging to someone else, was transformative. She embraced:

• A "default setting is yes" to new experiences and connections.
• Managing her own expectations, doing "whatever I want that day."
• Taking field trips and making friends with strangers.
  This period of unadulterated self-indulgence and exploration allowed her to feel "utterly, completely awake and alive," reclaiming her independence and finding joy in solitude.

Dreaming again. The trauma, while not her fault, became her responsibility to deal with. This realization empowered her to move beyond victimhood and actively "dream a little again." She committed to being a "powerful co-creator in my own life," refusing to wait for external circumstances or apologies to dictate her happiness. Her new outdoor table, built to gather loved ones, symbolized her commitment to filling her life with laughter, connection, and beautiful new memories, asserting that "the Good Life is now."

10. The Transformative Power of Forgiveness and Detachment

Forgiveness is not foolishness.

Path to peace. Jen's journey toward healing included the arduous process of forgiveness, moving from intense anger to a place of compassion. She recognized that her ex-husband, like her, was a young college kid handed a script, and that fundamental incompatibilities grew over two decades. While his actions were inexcusable, understanding his own trauma helped soften the blunt force of her pain, allowing her to access empathy.

Detachment as self-preservation. Confronting her codependent patterns, Jen learned that true detachment was not about abandoning love for her ex, but about "loving peace and freedom more than chaos and anxiety." This involved:

• Recognizing when she was "snagged" by his behavior.
• Pausing and calming herself before reacting.
• Examining her own triggered insecurities.
• Accepting that his new life and choices were not her business.
  This practice of "loving detachment" was crucial for reclaiming her agency and preventing his actions from continually dictating her emotional state.

Freedom from resentment. Forgiveness, for Jen, was a deliberate act of self-liberation. It was not foolishness that bypassed accountability or diminished consequences, but a conscious choice to release the anger and suffering that no longer served her. While the complexities of their shared family life would continue, forgiveness smoothed the path, allowing for goodwill and a healthier co-parenting relationship. This act ultimately set her free, enabling her to move forward with her own healing and hope.

Last updated: January 6, 2026