Love After Trauma

Author: A Dear Survivor
February 21, 2022


Merriam Webster defines the essential meaning of love as “a feeling of strong or constant affection for a person.” While that seems simple enough, after enduring traumas such as human trafficking, rape, abuse, etc., love’s definition becomes less clean cut. Love also begins to change shape after a traumatic experience like the ones stated above. For some of us, love becomes sleeping on the floor together, because beds are too much of a reminder of the things that have been done to us, and our bodies begin to seize up, leaving us unable to move – or sleep. Some of us can’t argue with our spouse because it’s a stark reminder of our past experiences and shutting down is the only way to cope. Sometimes, love looks like sleepless nights, wrapped in a weighted blanket and the arms of our spouse as we endure another anxiety attack that shakes us to the core of our being and leaves us sore, exhausted, and unable to communicate other than in soft whispers once it’s over.

The idea of finding love after trauma can be terrifying. While some of us had happier childhoods and others learned the feelings of abandonment from a young age, the one thing we all can agree on is that we can still feel the brokenness and betrayal long after we were wronged. For myself, my father taught me at a young age that I would never be good enough for any man to stay in my life, including him. I carried that with me for my entire life – admittedly, I still do – which led to continuous situations of abuse while accepting any “love” that may have wandered my way…because I craved being loved. When I found my husband, it was the most terrifying experience of my life, even more than the traumas I had already survived, because it was REAL love, it was POWERFUL love, it was a love that was kind and would never falter. What I didn’t realize was that this love would be the hardest for me to place my trust in – it was just too good to be true.

One of the first things I ask when I speak with other survivors is, “How did you learn to trust people again?” That question is often answered with a little smirk and a chuckle, knowing that’s a loaded question with a loaded answer. I ask them, mainly, because any advice I can get is valuable, but also because it truly is the one aspect most of us can relate to. Almost every time, the first sentence of their answer is, “it was really hard.” Then, I asked one survivor that loaded question, and she told me that her trust in God was so abundant that her trust in people was because of Him. She then wrote me a verse on the back of scrap paper about trust that I still hang in my home office to this day. Mind you, this incredibly strong, sweet, and wonderful woman had been trafficked and tortured after trusting in people, yet smiled the biggest, kindest smile I had ever seen and answered my question so confidently, there wasn’t a split second of time for her to even think about what she would say! I have to say, I was completely awestruck! How did she make it sound so easy!? Though I’m still working on the trust part myself, I have been blessed with a husband who is patient and kind, does not envy or boast, is not arrogant or rude, and whose love will never end.

After surviving trauma, love can “sometimes” look like many different things. However, for survivors and their spouses, love is always sitting through the highs and lows of a painful past that may never be fully understood. Love is always just being there for each other 100%, even when we may not be 100% ourselves, and knowing that is enough. Finally, love will always be full of forgiveness and overcoming any argument or situation without giving up!



Today, I Wept…


Today I wept…again…as I signed a receipt from an inmate of prison with a history of abusing others. He sends us sacrificial gifts in his journey of recovery. These are not out of “penance” for his brokenness but out of joy that places exist for healing of those like him and for those he harmed long ago. No one was there for him as a little boy to hear his silent scream.

My mommy heart always makes me stop when I see his gifts and take a deep breath. Often little boys and girls who grow up to wound others were wounded by others themselves. I stop and pray for the tiny lives out there needing a loving, listening home. I beg God to place them in my way or another’s to show a gentle touch, a listening ear, a whisper of joy and worth in who they are. I’m so humbled by his precious gifts. Our pain and our brokenness break God’s heart as He loves unconditionally.

Jet-lagged, I woke early this morning to sit in the darkness of my living room and pray for the day. Take these words as a love letter. Mother Teresa said, “I’m a tiny pencil in the hand of a writing God sending a love letter to the world.” I’m no Mother Teresa, but my hope is this: Whether you read this from a cozy chair with your morning cup of tea; from your kitchen overflowing with dirty dishes and a herd of munchkins at your feet; from a lofty, ivory tower imparting knowledge to the world; or just from a bunk bed in a cell staring at four walls, I pray you come to understand that our hidden worries are known, and we’re loved by our Creator, worthy even in our messes and broken places, or from our comfy homes or offices.

The ancient truth which changes individuals and cultures is that we are stronger, more loving, and better able to navigate sorrow or joy when we intentionally choose to be a circle of protection and community of safety to each other. The key is knowing we are all alike whether learning from a prison cell, from our own mistakes, or others’. Humility binds us together. I welcome the gift of the penitent. Help us God to all be penitent, intentional, and in humility, consider others better than ourselves. This lesson comes from “the least of these,” from four walls of a prison cell, and a broken little boy, now a man, who shares sacrificially to heal others in ways he never experienced. God help us learn from him!