When I watched Love Can Build a Bridge on Lifetime, I wasn’t expecting the emotions and the new insights. The documentary told the story of The Jud
When I watched Love Can Build a Bridge on Lifetime, I wasn’t expecting the emotions and the new insights.
The documentary told the story of The Judds—Naomi, Wynonna, and Ashley. But it did something else too. It didn’t hide the harm. It didn’t glaze over the fact that all three women were Survivors of sexual violence—not just once, but at multiple stages in their lives. As children. As teens. As grown women.
And the truth is: dealing with it was messy. Unhealthy at times. Complicated. Non-linear. Flickering. On. Off.
But you know what? That’s real. That’s what healing looks like for many of us.
People want our stories of healing to be clean and linear. They want peace without pain. Transformation without the truth. They want the Instagram version of survival. But the Judds didn’t give us that. They gave us something raw, cracked open, and achingly human.
Ashley Judd’s memoir speaks truth, too. About being trafficked as a young girl while pursuing a modeling career. About power and how adults in high places use it to exploit. And in a time when the world is still making excuses for abusers, still blaming girls for being preyed upon—we need to read these stories, hear these voices, and never let up.
Because every time a Survivor speaks, the darkness loses a little more ground.
Let’s be honest:
Healing does not always come in affirmations and soft music.
Sometimes healing comes through breakdowns, boundary fights, relapses, and rage.
Sometimes healing means telling the story in your own way, even when others wish you’d move on.
We are not broken for hurting.
We are not failing for healing slowly.
We are not wrong for not making it look easy.
The Judds showed us what family, music, survival, and hurt can look like—all tangled together.
And still… love did build a bridge. But it was over troubled waters, and it wasn’t easy.
So let’s honor our own bridges.
The ones we built with trembling hands.
The ones still under construction.
The ones no one applauded, but we crossed anyway.
Watch the documentary if you can.
Read Ashley Judd’s book.
Listen when Survivors speak.
These women have been favorites to watch and listen to and this truthful documentary -their own words-enhanced that.
And for the love of our daughters—and our younger selves—keep telling the truth. Until the excuses that defend, uphold, and protect the most wicked among us go away.
