Healing after abuse is not a straight line, and anyone who tells you it should be has not lived inside it. Some days you feel strong — able to name what happened, to draw boundaries, to reclaim parts of yourself you thought were gone. Other days the weight of it comes back without warning: a tone of voice, a smell, a specific time of year, and you are back inside the fear or the shame before you even realize it. This is not weakness or lack of faith. This is what it means to be a human being recovering from real harm.
The abuse itself may be over, but its effects live in the body and the mind long after the external danger has passed. Many survivors also carry a complicated grief: grief for the person who hurt them, grief for the relationship or childhood that should have been different, and sometimes a confusing grief for the person they were before it happened. You may struggle to trust people — including God. You may wonder whether you deserved it, or why God allowed it. These are honest questions, and they deserve honest answers.
The book of Psalms contains some of the most raw, unfiltered expressions of suffering and betrayal in all of Scripture. Psalm 18:2 declares, "The Lord is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer." This is not written from a place of safety — it is written from the middle of real danger. The Psalms give survivors permission to be honest with God about what happened and what it cost. God is not fragile; He can hold your anger and your grief.
St. Maria Goretti — whose name is sometimes misused in discussions of abuse — is better understood as a young woman whose memory belongs to survivors, not as a model of passive acceptance of violence. The healing she represents is the supernatural work of grace turning devastation toward redemption over a long period of time. Blessed Chiara Luce Badano, and countless unnamed saints who suffered violence, stand in intercession for those on the hard road back. Revelation 21:4 promises a day when God "will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore." That promise is not a comfort pill — but it is a true orientation point for the long work of healing.
- Contact a licensed trauma therapist — specifically someone trained in trauma-focused care such as EMDR or trauma-focused CBT — because healing from abuse usually requires more than prayer alone, and this is exactly what therapy is for.
- Give yourself explicit permission today not to rush your healing — write it down if it helps. You are not behind schedule. Recovery does not have a deadline.
- If you are still in contact with the person who abused you, speak with a counselor or a trusted person about safety and what healthy contact (or no contact) should look like in your specific situation.
Lord Jesus, You were betrayed, struck, and subjected to violence You did not deserve. You know from the inside what it is to suffer at the hands of another. I bring to You the harm that was done to me — the wounds I can name and the ones still too deep for words. Heal me. Not all at once if that is not Your way, but steadily. Protect me from the lie that I deserved this or that You were absent when it happened. Restore my dignity. Give me the right people to help me heal, and the courage to accept their help. I trust that You make all things new. Amen.
If you are a survivor of abuse, working with a licensed trauma therapist is one of the most important steps you can take. The National Domestic Violence Hotline (1-800-799-7233) and RAINN (1-800-656-4673) both offer free, confidential support for survivors of domestic and sexual violence. If you are in immediate danger, call 911. Many dioceses and Catholic Charities organizations also have victim assistance programs and can connect you with counselors who integrate faith and trauma-informed care. You do not have to navigate this alone.