There comes a moment in healing when you realize you’re no longer just trying to survive—you want to live again.
For many survivors of domestic violence, abuse, or trauma, joy can feel like something that belongs to someone else. You may remember what happiness used to feel like, but after years of walking on eggshells, questioning your worth, or living in fear, it can seem like that part of you disappeared.
The truth is, it didn’t disappear.
It was buried beneath survival.
Abuse teaches your brain to stay alert. It conditions you to scan every room, every conversation, every facial expression for danger. Even after you’re safe, your mind may still expect the next storm. That isn’t weakness. It’s the result of what you’ve lived through.
Healing is learning that you no longer have to live in survival mode.
Finding your joy again doesn’t happen all at once. It often returns in quiet moments:
- The first time you laugh without feeling guilty.
- The first peaceful night’s sleep.
- A motorcycle ride with the wind reminding you that you’re free.
- A sunrise that makes you stop and smile.
- Music that reaches a part of your heart you thought was gone.
- Time with people who love you without controlling you.
Joy isn’t always loud. Sometimes it’s simply peace.
Don’t compare your healing to anyone else’s. Some people rebuild quickly. Others take months or years. What matters is that you keep moving forward, one step, one choice, one day at a time.
Give yourself permission to rediscover the person you were created to be—not the version abuse tried to convince you that you were.
If your faith has carried you through the darkest nights, remember this:
God never intended for your life to be defined by your wounds. He can restore what was broken, strengthen what has grown weak, and fill empty places with hope again. Your scars may remain, but they no longer have to write the ending of your story.
Your joy isn’t gone.
It’s waiting for you on the other side of healing.
At Riders Against Domestic Violence (RADV), we believe healing is possible for every survivor. Whether you’re taking your first step or your hundredth, know that you don’t have to walk—or ride—that road alone.
Your best miles are still ahead.