My Life Fell Apart, And It Was The Best Thing To Ever Happen To Me

Here I am.. sitting in an Amazon-furniture-filled apartment with my sweet golden, Zoey. In fact, here she is at this very moment. This image felt needed; you're welcome.

It's 10:14 p.m. This is my favorite time of the day – when things are slow and quiet, and when my creativity starts flowing. There's so much on my heart and mind, where do I begin? 

I guess we can start here: I got engaged, married, and divorced all within four years and before I hit 30. Tragic!! No kids, no beautiful love story with the love of my life, no big book or ministry (yet), no dual income, no man to scratch my back (that's the worst part.. actually the worst part was losing the insurance I had under my ex-husband's employer, to be SO real). 

For humor and clarification purposes, my ex-husband's pseudonym will be Jo Bob in any writings about him or my marriage. This name is not random, well, sort of. It is random, but he technically created it.

In 2021, when I played as a pro basketball player in Ireland (slight flex real quick), my games were live-streamed on Facebook, which Mr. Jo Bob claimed he did not have an account for, so he created one with the name Jo Bob. Oh, don't worry, I come with receipts. All women with two degrees know to never delete texts, and now all evidence to corroborate my stories lives in a Google Drive and is backed up on hard drives as well. You just.. never know. 

Now that we've established how weird that is, let's get back to my first public writing about my divorce (IG doesn't count! Does it?)

I remember telling Jo Bob some of my biggest fears... spiders, public speaking on topics aside from Jesus and my life, oh, and my husband having an affair. I even told him that I loved him so deeply, I wasn't sure I'd be able to leave him if he did, so I told him not to take advantage of that. W-H-A-T.. 

There was a time (my entire life) that I thought betrayal would kill me. And in a way, it did. It killed an old version of me: massively codependent, a level 10 people pleaser, and someone who tried to mold others into a better version than what they actually were.

Now, if you have followed my IG stories since 2020 (which is amazing content, btw, I have to say), you'd know that this man was seemingly head over heels in love with me, and how could he not?! I am awesome?? Humble, too, or maybe I just know the worth of this package, baby!

To those who know what love bombing is, something seemed off.. but to a 23/24 year old who was being promised everything she ever wanted to hear, I thought I finally got the gift in a dream man that I had been praying for since I was in the 6th grade and received the 'purity talk.' I remember vowing to my future husband that day that I'd save my first kiss for him! And writing my repentance for not upholding that vow in a journal that I began writing in as a 13-year-old to gift to my husband on our wedding day (don't worry, I took it back the day after Jo Bob locked me out of our home.. yes, we'll get there, maybe). 

Let's go over a couple of things. Love bombing is defined as an emotional manipulation tactic where someone overwhelms a new partner with excessive affection, attention, and grand gestures to gain control or create a sense of dependency. While it may feel like a "fairytale romance," it is often a red flag for future emotional abuse or coercive control.

Okay. Let's take a second for 24-year-old Brooke. 

If you googled that term, old Instagram posts and stories from my account would come up (not really, so don't try). Things like Jo Bob bombarding me with dozens of flowers for a Tuesday night steak dinner to celebrate absolutely nothing except for this man's 'love' for me. Arriving at fancy restaurant after fancy restaurant with flowers waiting for me at the table, because he went to the restaurant hours before our date to set it up for when we arrived. 

I remember clinging to Jo Bob's arm as we walked to our table and seeing people watching us, saying, "There he is! There's the man who is so in love with his girlfriend that he did ALL OF THIS!" Swooning over my man. I loved it. I loved the thought that other women could learn not to settle from watching me be loved so loudly by Mr. Perfect. 

We even had a couple in our pre-marital class advise Jo Bob to create a YouTube channel and Instagram page dedicated to educating men on how to treat their partner by walking through how he prepares for our dates and all of the thought and effort that goes into them. He took so much pride in the way he courted me.

Except, to him, this was all a game. A show to create more and more 'supply' or admiration. It was never for me; it was always about how it made him look and feel. The perfect setup for each woman he preys upon to never be believed in the end. "Jo Bob? There's no way.. look at all he did for her!" Every woman before me had the same story as mine; the difference was just that I had proof to be believed, when they didn't.

Another thing I want to define is codependency. In the simplest of terms, a codependent (heyyy!) is someone who consistently sacrifices their own needs to care for or enable another. It's a dysfunctional, really addiction, where the "giver" derives their self-worth from being needed, often at the expense of their own well-being. It's hard for a codependent to say no, and they take responsibility for the emotions, choices, and actions of others (PERFECT target for narcissists). 

Wait, what's a narcissist? For those who have experienced narcissistic abuse, there's no doubt or question in your mind that you've dealt with one. It's a label thrown out to people who maybe are just mean, egotistical, or super set in their ways. But.. babe, it's a lot more complex than that. 

There are different types of narcissists, but at the root, narcissistic personality disorder (NPD) is a person with an extreme focus on themselves and a profound need for excessive admiration; they will feel like they're dying if they don't have it. They display an inflated sense of self-importance, and the key here is that they have a distinct lack of empathy for others. They exploit and take advantage of others to achieve their own personal goals, and they have an inability or unwillingness to recognize the feelings and needs of other people (or simply, DO NOT CARE). They will do so without guilt or regard for the impact on those around them; in fact, they will deceive themselves into believing they are the true victims in every story.

It's fascinating, and incredibly sad. Of course, it's sad for those they harm, and I, of course, have a deep understanding and compassion for that, as I myself endured narcissistic abuse from not just my spouse, but coaches and other relationships. But it's mainly sad for them. 

Because for those of us who feel deeply and practice 'metacognition,' which is essentially having the capacity to think about your own thoughts and decisions and how they affect you and others around you, we aren't trapped in deception like narcissists are. Those who have suffered and survived narcissistic abuse have the opportunity to get free and reflect. Really, so do narcissists, but they are unwilling to do so the majority of the time. And that's the true tragedy. 

I'm in a place in my healing journey to be able to see that. I'm not the true 'victim' here. I can't control another's behavior or bad decisions and a narcissist is really a victim to their own lies and deception. While they know what they're doing, they really do start to believe their own lies and victimhood. They recycle the same play with different people who just don't know yet. When the mask falls, they discard (an abrupt and callous ending of a relationship once the narcissist feels you are no longer useful to their ego or you have caught on to who they truly are), and they find the next person to love bomb and go through the cycle of idealization, devaluation, and discard. Before they discard, they will slowly distance themselves, use the silent treatment, or suddenly replace you. They do not process grief; they merely "refill" their ego by finding a new supply to feed their image.

I've done enough therapy (tens of thousands of dollars worth!), recovery groups, reading, podcast listening, and lamenting with God to be in a place today where I can recognize how sad that is. And the sad part of the story isn't mine. In fact, mine is just beginning.

I am only 29!! Thank God I divorced before 30!! Thank God I don't have children yet!! These are all blessings, and I see that now. The dreams haven't happened yet, and they wouldn't have been real if they did. True love isn't birthed in lies. None of it was real. 

There was a time when I thought betrayal would kill me. I am so glad that codependent, people pleasing identity is dead. As my marriage died, so did that part of me. All of the broken dreams. All of the future I envisioned with him, killed. I questioned my judgment, my worth, my memories (what the heck is even real?!), and my ability to trust myself again. If I could be deceived in such huge ways into marriage.. how could I trust myself to not choose another counterfeit? I am better than this.. I have been studying and reading psychology and mental health topics since I was 19. How could this happen to ME?! I knew better. All of these thoughts were a part of the grieving process. Divorce is a major severance, but divorcing someone you didn't know is completely disorienting, because while all of the love and feelings you felt were authentic, you learn that all you received in return were lies and phony. 

It's like digging and thinking you've hit the jackpot with gold, only to rub your fingers and find that it's fool's gold. It's tragic, but there's a gratitude that comes from learning the truth.

Praying for and finally learning the truth was the beginning of me finding myself. Outside of who I am as a basketball player and athlete, outside of who I am as a lover and wife. Just who I am as a daughter of the Creator. 

December 17, 2024 marked 24 days after my ex-husband locked me out of our home (hey, I did make it here!). I was completely disheveled, still believing in reconciliation with Jo Bob and thinking he was having a psychotic break, or maybe he had a brain tumor from sleeping with his phone under his pillow for a year and a half straight! (sis... I know). I walked into an Upperroom Church prayer set, seeking God for answers. "Come to me," I heard the speaker say into the mic over and over again. "Jesus is saying, 'Come to me.'" I immediately broke down into tears. I prayed for God to speak to me, and those were the words I heard directly after that prayer.

The 'reward' in coming to Jesus isn't reconciliation with the man I thought I wanted and vowed my soul to. It still isn't even remarriage and children with a new spouse (cue where the hell is my husband). The reward is Jesus. Access to Jesus, awareness of what He did for me and how deeply he loves me, and nearness to Him. 

Closeness to Jesus is it. When you find Jesus, you enjoy being in his nearness. You experience freedom, peace, and joy. "Jesus, you are with me, and that's my reward." 

I still begged for Jo Bob (did that make you laugh? I felt like inserting Jo Bob was comedic relief for me). I never would have chosen this story for myself, in fact I hate it. I'd love to have an attractive, God fearing husband who lives a non toxic lifestyle with me and one or two toddlers playing with Zoey right now. That's what my heart wants, but I am content if that were to never come into fruition. Which I can tell you I'd never say before my divorce. God satisfies me. I mean that. If I prematurely passed away before I got to experience true love that doesn't betray me, know that I'd be ECSTATIC dancing and singing with Jesus in heaven. That's where I'm at. Don't freak out, I love life and will be living it to the fullest and becoming more like Jesus until the day the Father calls me home.

But my destination is to be known as a child of God. I'm not just an amazing wife, thoughtful friend, helpful coworker, talented at basketball, or super smart gal who is obsessed with researching and learning how to be a better person (again with that humble comment - look I've been through a lot of refining, so let me be aware of my worth!) – but while all of that does matter to live and serve well while here on earth, when all is stripped down and I have NOTHING to offer to the world or God himself, I am a daughter of God and he loves me because of who HE is, because that's his nature and he can't help but to love me, and not because of anything I could ever do for him or to earn it. In the same sense, I can't lose it, like I have so often experienced here on earth from broken people who have failed me.

Betrayal stripped everything down to what was real. And what a blessing. 

I'm no longer living in someone else's deception. And it exposed how much of my identity was still being built around being chosen and loved in another person. When that collapsed, so did my identity. 

God is close to the brokenhearted, and you won't fully understand until you become one of them. God has taught me the importance of solitude, which is different than loneliness. He has taught me to be still and receive his love; I don't have to chase people to be worthy of love. I don't have to convince, or sign them up for recovery groups (whoops!), or panic and email 5 marital therapists to repair my marriage after being locked out (oh!), nor do I have to send dozens of sermons and beautifully written love letters affirming over and over again that I love my spouse. No. Never again! I will never convince someone to not be inhumane to me again.

My strength came when I immediately let the Father love me, and opened up to others to lift me up when I could hardly breathe from the stabbing pains in my heart. Heartbreak syndrome is a stress-induced weakening of the heart muscle triggered by intense emotional or physical stress. It mimics a heart attack with symptoms like chest pain and shortness of breath, but is caused by stress hormones stunning the heart, not blocked arteries. I was experiencing this for at least a month straight, every morning when I woke up. Did you know you can die from this?

This is why psychologists call people like me narcissistic abuse survivors. Because if you don't die from a broken heart, you could lose your sanity and mind and become a shell of yourself. That's how severe NPD can be, and why I am glad God chose me to experience this. If anyone has the strength and determination to learn, become educated, name this, and advocate for women to identify the signs and help women escape abusive relationships, it's BROOKE MF ALEXANDER. 

I see things differently now. I am awake, and I can't unknow what I now know or unsee what I've seen. I have compassion for those with hidden pain who can't speak up about their experiences. I understand the brokenhearted in a deeper way. I'm slow to judge people because I know what it feels like to barely hold yourself together while trying to appear okay. 

Suffering can either harden or soften you. God used mine to make me more dependent on Him and aware of Him, more aware of my need for grace, and more intentional about the kind of life and relationships I want moving forward. 

God can redeem what was meant to kill us if we let Him. I’m not the same person I was before all of this happened. Some parts of me had to die: naïveté, unhealthy dependence, fear of being alone, trying to save my spouse from himself, and the belief that my future depended on another person staying.

But other parts of me came alive.

My faith became real. My prayers became honest. My relationship with God became personal instead of performative. My sense of worth became less dependent on other people; in fact, I don't really care what others think of me now, which has been so freeing!

And somewhere in the middle of all the heartbreak, I found peace I didn’t know was possible. God proved faithful in the middle of devastation.

If you are walking through betrayal right now, I don’t have perfect answers. I know how disorienting it is. I know how painful it is when someone you trusted breaks something sacred. Each journey is incredibly personal.

But I also know this:

Your life is not over. Your story is not ruined. Your pain is not wasted. And God is still able to rebuild beautiful things from broken places.

Sometimes healing doesn’t look like getting your old life back. Sometimes it looks like becoming someone new.

And honestly, this new version of me is stronger, freer, wiser, and closer to God than I ever was before. Oh my love, it gets so much better! I pray God shows you how good He is and how good it can get. Surrender it at his feet. Nothing compares to nearness to the Father. 

Keep going, sis! We need you here. And God wants you to come back home.

Brooke Alexander is a writer, storyteller, and Jesus follower. She writes about faith, healing, identity, and personal growth. Brooke shares reflections on heartbreak, recovery, and mental health to empower women in their relationships with God. She lives in an Amazon-furniture-filled apartment with her golden retriever, Zoey.