We Do Therapy: Early Warning Signs

Were there warning signs of the impact of trauma during before we married?

This week’s four-part series launches a weekly We Do Therapy series (available to paid subscribers). Scott and I will share both the struggles and triumphs of two young adults who believed they had found someone who would care for them. Our intent is not to offer marriage advice. We are not licensed therapists. We are survivors who hope that what we share about our journey together will help others to be curious about how trauma might be impacting their marriage. Hopefully far sooner than we did! (Please read statement at end of post.)

AI generated picture: “Will you take care of me?”

Scott and I were introduced by a friend who was dating his brother. When Scott first saw me singing in the choir, he now tells me I appeared to have a halo over my head. I was struck by his broad shoulders and deep blue eyes.

We somehow sensed that we would care for each other. It was more like falling into a mutual unspoken understanding than being smitten by love. I understand that I missed the day that “romance” was handed out. Scott would be far more likely to be smitten! There was that halo after all. I just wanted protection.

What did we understand about love? Not much. As I said in the Introduction to We Do Therapy, “We were walking in blind with stacks of baggage behind us. What neither of us talked about due to repression and fear was that we were both only six months out from attempted suicides—something we would not come to terms with for forty years.”

Both of us had a story. Scott knew more of his than I did. Repression was my well-honed subconscious survival response. Scott’s survival strategies involved dissociation and enabled him to distance himself from the memories—but he did remember. Understanding this helps me appreciate how difficult it was for him to remain fully present.

Could anyone have known this was true of either of us? Very unlikely, since one of the most important goals for every survivor is to hide what happened to them. We often say that we hid in plain sight in the church. I now understand that we weren’t the only ones. Church culture was grateful for all the ways the impact of our trauma made us good church members. We were hard-working, followed the rules, and dedicated to serving others. What we did not do was heal.

Since I have been talking about my story through four books, numerous blogs or podcasts, and over two hundred substack posts, most who read this are aware of the abuse that occurred in church-related settings from the age of three to twenty-three. To balance the story that walked us down the aisle dragging baggage behind us, it is important to share some of Scott’s story. Few are aware that part of his story was included in Trauma in the Pews.