Awake

The author’s former husband, Brandon Hatmaker, was a well-known pastor, author, and Christian leader during their marriage. He cofounded Austin New Church in Texas with Jen and appeared alongside her on the HGTV series My Big Family Renovation, which showcased their large household and collaborative ministry. For years, they functioned as an evangelical “power couple,” writing and speaking publicly about marriage, parenting, and faith. Their devout yet relatable image made them admired figures within the US Christian community.

Hatmaker does not mention Brandon by name in her book, but although he remains offstage, his infidelity shapes the book’s emotional arc since he catalyzed her identity crisis and eventual personal transformation. Hatmaker’s process of disentangling from her marriage drives the memoir’s momentum. Brandon’s choices forced her to gain autonomy over areas of life she had previously ceded to him, such as financial management, home repairs, and vehicle purchases. The author’s initial response to her husband’s infidelity was anger at his betrayal. However, as she began to understand how her evangelical background shaped her own identity, she came to see Brandon’s behavior as another product of indoctrination, his emotional volatility the “land mines of his unresolved trauma” (76). His years of repressed pain were linked to the patriarchal norms of evangelical culture, which taught men to suppress emotion. In addition, Hatmaker recognized that her determination to maintain domestic harmony at all costs was counterproductive. When she forgave Brandon, it marked her final liberation from the fraught dynamics of their marriage.

The author’s friends formed the lifeline that carried her through the disintegration of her marriage and the rebuilding of her autonomy. From the moment her husband’s affair came to light, Hatmaker’s friends filled her house, keeping her company and ensuring that she never faced her grief alone. The circle of women emerged as a spiritual community whose unwavering love and practical help provided the belonging and emotional safety that both organized religion and her marriage failed to deliver. For this reason, the author describes her friends as “the greatest loves of my life” (184).

Several friends stand out as emblematic of the group’s influence. Jenny and Shonna used their practical skills to rebuild Hatmaker’s porch after her husband abandoned the project, turning a symbol of neglect into one of restoration. Later, they constructed an enormous outdoor table where the author gathered family and friends to share food and laughter. Meanwhile, Laura and Amy, Hatmaker’s “two very woo-woo girlfriends” (86), introduced her to alternative forms of spirituality and healing. Amy “[smudged]” Jen’s home (by burning sage) to cleanse its negative energy after Brandon’s departure, transforming it from a space marked by conflict and betrayal into a sanctuary. Laura gifted Jen a session with an energy healer named Judy, a moment that became an emotional turning point as Jen visualized her loved ones rescuing her. Laura also recommended the ancient South American ritual called Closing the Bones, in which Hatmaker released the final vestiges of trauma from her body. These therapies helped the author integrate her mind and body.

Hatmaker was raised in a close-knit Baptist family led by her parents, Larry and Jana King, whose influence resonates throughout the memoir. Hatmaker’s parents and siblings played a crucial, stabilizing role throughout her childhood, representing constancy, compassion, and emotional safety. Her father, Larry, was fiercely protective, loyal, and tender-hearted. Early in the memoir, Hatmaker recalls her father rushing to the school to defend her when her sixth-grade teacher labeled her as “domineering.” This formative moment foreshadowed Larry’s later role during the author’s marital crisis. When Hatmaker discovered her husband’s affair, she called her parents first, and they immediately offered comfort and shelter. After Hatmaker’s breakdown, Larry’s instinct to “fix” things reemerged in a text that admitted his powerlessness but conveyed unwavering love. Her father’s desire to protect her from pain echoed the author’s feelings about her children.

Although Larry is an orthodox Baptist, Hatmaker recounts how he challenged the patriarchal leadership of their Church when he asked a woman to cover his Sunday school class. Larry’s actions inspired Hatmaker to become a spiritual leader in her own right and foreshadowed the author’s later determination to stand up for her beliefs, even when they caused controversy within the religious community. Jana King embodied a more pragmatic compassion, as evident in her decision to buy her daughter contact lenses after teenage boys mocked her glasses.

Hatmaker’s three siblings, Lindsay, Cortney, and Drew, showed up immediately when their sister’s world imploded, gathering at their parents’ home to provide comfort. As the author realized how, for years, she had avoided confronting the issues in her marriage, she recalled how her younger sister, Lindsay, called off her engagement just four weeks before the wedding. Hatmaker recognizes the courage it took for Lindsay to defy societal expectations and be honest: “Rather than continue to tell a lie about an impending marriage, [Lindsay] told the truth, past the approved expiration date” (60). Lindsay thus became a role model for the author, exemplifying integrity and self-care.

Hatmaker’s five children, Gavin, Sydney, Caleb, Ben, and Remy, were a source of both anguish and joy after the collapse of the marriage. One of her greatest fears was how it would impact her children. The family’s composition of three biological children and two adopted Ethiopian children embodied the ideal, inclusive Christian family. However, when Brandon left the household, Hatmaker confronted the painful gap between the secure upbringing she wanted to provide for her family and her new reality. The author realized that each one of her children would be adversely affected by the divorce: “Losing the stability of your parents’ marriage in high school and college is annihilating. Any dream they ever had about coming home to us, bringing their friends and partners and babies, was dead” (77). Her grief over the children’s loss thematically highlights The Chaotic Process of Navigating Emotional Devastation.

While Hatmaker worried about her children, she also learns from them. Remy, the youngest, stood out as the most outspoken one. Unlike her older siblings, she did not perform politeness for appearances’ sake. Remy’s refusal to “prioritize the comfort of others” (63) often embarrassed the author. However, it later became emblematic of the honesty and emotional freedom she herself strove to reclaim. Remy’s unfiltered authenticity helped Hatmaker recognize the harm of the self-silencing she learned through purity culture and evangelical womanhood. Furthermore, the author’s reflections on her son’s first exposure to the concept of pornography (at a church camp shaming youth group exercise) widens the memoir’s focus from her own experiences to the collective harm done by evangelical teaching. She acknowledges that boys experience the effects of a system that distorts both masculinity and sexuality. In doing so, she dismantles the notion that patriarchal systems harm only women and girls.

Throughout Awake, the author charts how her maternal instinct evolves from one of control to one of supportive accompaniment. Her therapist urges her not to manage her children’s emotions but to simply be there for them. This shift parallels Hatmaker’s broader journey from codependency to healthy selfhood. She also progresses from grieving what her children have lost to making new memories with them, such as the trip to New York on the date that would have marked the Hatmakers’ wedding anniversary. By the memoir’s end, Hatmaker’s children symbolize continuity and resilience in the face of family rupture.