When Love Meets the Wounded Parts - Healing Through Marriage

Marriage is a gift from God. It’s one of the most beautiful, sanctifying parts of life—to walk through it hand-in-hand with someone who truly knows you, loves you, and chooses you daily. But that doesn’t mean it’s always easy. In fact, the closeness of marriage can bring out things in us we didn’t even know were there.

We all carry stories. We all bring our pasts into our present—whether we realize it or not. And one of the most important things I’ve learned in marriage is this: if you want to grow together, you have to learn how to communicate through the hard stuff. Especially when trauma, triggers, and fear show up.

When one—or both—of you has experienced trauma in the past, communication becomes even more important. And honestly, most of us have walked through something. Whether it was something big or small, those experiences shape how we see the world, how we react, and how we connect with others—especially the person closest to us.

Marriage can bring some of those hidden things to the surface. You may not even realize something is a trigger until it happens. And then suddenly, you’re reacting in a way that doesn’t feel logical. The moment feels huge, but later you look back and wonder, Why did that upset me so much? That didn’t even make sense.

What I’ve learned is this: sometimes our reactions aren’t just about past trauma—they’re actually tied to our deepest fears. Fears like messing up. Failing. Losing someone we love. And when something happens that feels like it could possibly confirm that fear, even in the tiniest way, our brain panics and reacts. We respond like it’s already happening—even when it’s not.

Those were things John and I had to work through—early on in dating and even more so in marriage. I would react to something he said or did, and it honestly made no sense on the outside. But in my mind, it felt real. I didn’t always realize it in the moment, but it was coming from something deeper—something I didn’t even know I was afraid of.

And John has had those moments too. There have been times when he responded in a way I knew wasn’t really about me. It was about something in his own past or something he feared. And just like he’s shown me grace in those moments, I’ve learned to do the same for him. It goes both ways.

That’s why communication is everything. If you don’t talk about where those reactions come from, you’ll just keep repeating the same patterns and thinking, That’s just how they are. But most of the time, it’s not a personality thing—it’s a pain thing. And it needs to be gently, lovingly brought into the light.

I’m so grateful John never just brushed things off. If I reacted in a way that felt off, he would gently ask, “What just happened?” or “Do you want to talk about it now or later?” Most of the time, that helped me process and talk through it right away instead of bottling it up. Sometimes I didn’t even have the words yet. But his calm, loving presence helped bring me back to what was true.

There were moments when he’d say, “Baby, that’s not logical,” and not in a critical way—but in a way that reminded me to pause and reset. And because of that, I started noticing my patterns. I could feel the trigger rise up and recognize it: This isn’t about now. This is fear talking. That has been huge for me in healing.

And here’s the beautiful thing: the more we practice this, the more natural it becomes. Over time, you begin to catch the lies, the triggers, and the old wounds faster. You start responding with truth, not fear. And when you begin to deal with your past and confront those fears with honesty, you’re not only able to love your spouse better—you’re able to love the people around you better too.

If we don’t process our pain, we’ll end up projecting it. But when we face it head-on—in prayer, in Scripture, and through honest conversations—we find freedom. And that freedom makes room for deeper connection. With our spouse, our family, our friends… everyone.

Something I think more people need to hear is this: counseling is not a sign that something’s broken. It’s a way to grow. John and I went to counseling before we got engaged—not because anything was wrong, but because we wanted to understand each other more. We learned about our temperaments, how we process differently, how to communicate better, and how to love one another more intentionally. It gave us tools that still serve us to this day.

Culture can make us believe that if you’re going to counseling, your relationship must be struggling. But it’s actually the opposite. You don’t wait until your car is completely run into the ground before taking it to the shop—you get regular checkups to keep it running smoothly. Marriage is the same way. You don’t wait until everything is about to fall apart before you reach out for help. Doing that work early—and regularly—is what keeps your relationship healthy and strong.

So if you’ve ever felt guilt or shame about counseling—please don’t. Taking care of your marriage is one of the most meaningful things you can do. And it’s worth every bit of effort.

And something else that’s made a huge difference in our lives is being surrounded by other Christian couples who are walking through life with us. Couples who encourage us, speak truth over us, and remind us of what matters most. God didn’t design us to do life—or marriage—alone. Having that kind of community has been such a blessing. We’ve learned from others, prayed with others, and felt supported through every season.

Above all, the most important foundation is Christ. Our marriage isn’t held together by good communication or great advice alone—it’s held together by Him. He is the center of our life, our home, and our marriage. And when we build on that Rock, even the hard things can become holy.

A healthy marriage isn’t perfect. But it is built on deep, honest communication, rooted in grace, and anchored in love.