We didn’t come into our marriage whole—we came in bleeding.

Both of us were products of abuse. He was beaten, locked away, starved, and silenced. I was emotionally neglected, physically abused, manipulated, and discarded. We carried trauma like second skin, and love alone wasn’t enough to fix what had been shattered.

Behind closed doors, our marriage didn’t feel sacred—it felt like another battlefield. We weren’t thriving. We were triggering each other, repeating patterns, and barely hanging on. We went to church. We quoted Scripture. We begged God for peace.

But religion doesn’t heal what trauma created.

We know what it’s like to cry yourself to sleep next to someone who’s just as broken as you. To serve in ministry while silently falling apart. To wonder if you’re too far gone for the healing everyone else seems to find.

But here’s the truth no one told us:
God doesn’t just save souls. He heals stories.
He restores what abusers tried to destroy.
And He breaks generational cycles with fire and finality.

It’s not too late.
Not for your marriage.
Not for your mind.
Not for your story.

We’re not just survivors. We’re proof that redemption is real.