You don’t truly know how emotionally wounded someone is until you’re together. It reveals itself when you try to love them. Have you ever loved someone you couldn’t save?
Patched Up
My friend used to cut herself, and at the start of our relationship, it terrified me. Then I learned that my love wasn’t a broken toy I had to fix. I realized she didn’t need fixing—she needed someone to stand by her quietly and love her. Once she knew I wouldn’t leave and felt safe, the cutting stopped.
Right Then
My wife grew up in a very troubled family—that’s putting it mildly. When we started dating, I knew nothing about her background. Slowly, I learned how deep her struggles ran. With her, I learned love isn’t just a feeling—it’s a choice.
Every day, you choose each other, even when it’s hard—especially when they’re the hardest to love. That’s what love is all about: sticking together through the tough times.
The Solution
My parents died in an accident when I was little. My first husband, whom I married at 18, got cancer, and I was widowed at 20. Everyone who learned this treated me like fragile china or a broken object. Every man wanted to be my hero and save me—but I wasn’t waiting for a savior. I wanted a fresh start. Losing loved ones shook me, but those tragedies didn’t define who I am. My second husband was the only one who saw me—not as a problem to fix, but as myself, without the "trauma package."
Highs and Lows
I loved a girl once, but her wounds were too deep and the walls she built too high, so I had to let go. I was only 23 and knew little about life, so maybe I gave up too soon. I still carry guilt because two years after we broke up, she took her own life. My therapist comforts me by saying maybe no one could have saved her, and she might have left life even if I’d stayed—but we’ll never know.
Under the Influence
My fiancé was addicted to drugs. When we met, he was clean, but five months later, he relapsed. The next few years were tough—breakups, makeups, broken promises on his part, and hurt feelings on mine. Then he finally opened up about the root of his addiction. He was molested by his uncle as a child. Once I understood where his pain came from, I saw why he tried to numb it with substances.
It took a lot of effort, but I convinced him to get professional help. Slowly—very slowly—he began to heal. There were setbacks, but by then, I wasn’t giving up on him. It’s been seven years since, he’s been clean for six, and now we’re planning our wedding.
The Real Face
No one knew how much my boyfriend suffered inside. He was always the loud, funny guy—the life of the party. When we got together, he kept it together for months, but gradually, his brokenness showed. He pushed me away many times, ashamed to reveal what hurt him—not just to me, but to everyone. (I won’t go into details because that’s not what matters.) He softened when I told him there’s no perfect love, only imperfect people who choose to love each other. We’ve been together for four years now.
