One thing the world was sure of was that Miranda Lambert and Blake Shelton were going to last. But as we all know, that’s not how things ended between the couple who once gave the world of country music stomach butterflies.While still married to Lambert, Shelton met singer Gwen Stefani on The Voice in 2014. At the time, Stefani was also with someone else, but a photo of the two taken in November 2014 made many believe that there was something more than a friendship between them.The rumors turned out to be true when both Shelton and Stefani ended their respective marriages. By November 2015, they were official, and everyone saw them as the new powerful music couple.
On top of that, it was reported that the relationship between Shelton and Stefani didn’t come as a surprise to Lambert, according to E!, because the two “they “…were always pretty flirty. Miranda and Blake were on the rocks on and off and knew that this could always be a possibility.”
Another source shared with Us Weekly that Lambert had “had her suspicions,” but she didn’t have hard feelings towards Stefani at the time.
Back in July 2018, Lambert recalled hanging up the phone to a reporter to asked her about her feelings towards Stefani.
“… I got on the phone for the first interview. First question was, ‘How do you feel about Gwen [Stefani]?’” Lambert explained. “I hung up. I told [manager] Marion [Kraft], I just can’t do this.” She continued: “What was in the music was real, and I wanted people to get it from that. Take from it what they would. Then if I needed to talk, I would.”
However, despite the fact that Shelton seemed to move on pretty quickly after his divorce with Lambert, she has never commented her ex’s new relationship and she has never gotten into a feud with Stefani.
I Allowed a Homeless Woman to Stay in My Garage—One Day I Walked in Unannounced and Was Shocked by What I Saw
I tapped the steering wheel, trying to shake the weight on my chest, when I spotted a disheveled woman digging through a trash can. I slowed down, drawn in by her grim determination.
She looked fragile yet fierce, fighting for survival. Without thinking, I pulled over, rolled down my window, and asked, “Do you need help?”
Her response was sharp but tired: “You offering?”
“I just saw you there,” I admitted, stepping out. “It didn’t seem right.”
“What’s not right is life,” she scoffed, crossing her arms. “You don’t strike me as someone who knows much about that.”
“Maybe not,” I replied, then asked if she had a place to stay.
“No,” she said, and I felt compelled to offer my garage as a temporary home. To my surprise, she accepted, albeit reluctantly.
Over the next few days, we shared meals and conversations. Lexi’s sharp wit broke through my loneliness, but I could sense her hidden pain.
One afternoon, I barged into the garage and froze. There, sprawled across the floor, were grotesque paintings of me—chains, blood, a casket. Nausea hit me.
That night, I confronted her. “What are those paintings?”
Her face went pale. “I didn’t mean for you to see them. I was just… angry.”
“So you painted me as a monster?” I demanded.
She nodded, shame in her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
I struggled to forgive her. “I think it’s time for you to go.”
The next morning, I helped her pack and drove her to a shelter, giving her some money. Weeks passed, and I felt the loss of our connection.
Then, a package arrived—another painting. This one was serene, capturing a peace I hadn’t known. Inside was a note with Lexi’s name and number.
My heart raced as I called her. “I got your painting… it’s beautiful.”
“Thank you. I didn’t know if you’d like it,” she replied.
“You didn’t owe me anything,” I said, reflecting on my own unfairness.
“I’m sorry for what I painted,” she admitted. “You were just… there.”
“I forgave you the moment I saw that painting. Maybe we could start over.”
“I’d like that,” she said, a smile evident in her voice.
We made plans to meet again, and I felt a flicker of hope for what could be.
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