I'm a writer and speaker whose work sits at the intersection of faith and mental health. Woven from my own journey as a Christian who has wrestled with self-injury, my work holds space for both the struggle and the sacred. I believe in telling the truth, even when it’s messy, and in finding light even when it’s dim.

If you’re looking for words that make room for both pain and redemption, you’re in the right place. Stay as long as you need.

Hi, I’m Brittany. I’m so glad you’re here!

STORIES OUR SCARS TELL

HOPE, HEALING, AND HONESTY ABOUT THE WOUNDS WE CARRY

To be healed is simply to live a life fully felt—not perfect and not pain-free, but beautiful anyway.

In the depths of our struggles, it’s easy to feel alone — unseen, unheard, and unsure if healing is even possible. Brittany Tinsley, a self-injury recovery advocate, offers a beacon of hope for those in seasons of suffering as she shares her deeply personal journey from self-harm to healing. She invites readers to join her on a transformative path from isolation to connection, fear to hope, and hurt to wholeness.

Divided into three insightful parts, Stories Our Scars Tell explores the lingering questions that haunt us, the comforting words we long to hear, and the strength found in embracing our struggles. Tinsley’s dual perspective as both an expert and someone who has walked through the darkness of self- harm provides a unique and compassionate guide for readers. Speaking to the heart of identity, self-worth, and the pursuit of hope, Stories Our Scars Tell is a powerful reminder that healing doesn’t happen overnight but is a continual reckoning between who we’ve been, who we are, and who we’d like to become.

book called stories our scars tell on a green background with a preorder announcement

INSTAGRAM / @BRITTANYTINSLEYWRITES

“The light is Morse code on the wall.” It’s my first thought when I open my eyes and am greeted by the too bright sun tapping through the blinds. My second: The only Morse code I actually know is three dots, three dashes, three dots
There’s a ladybug trapped between my window and its screen. Over the course of the last hour, I’ve watched it crawl from the bottom pane to the top several times over. There must be a split in the screen—it had to get in there someh
Yesterday, I took my daughter to a craft store to buy supplies for a project. Among the items on our list was an x-acto knife, which we needed for delicate and detailed work. At the checkout, I wondered if I should be bringing the knife home. I knew
The world often feels like its crumbling around me. At times, the ground still feels a bit unsteady. With the state of things, how could it not? Although I haven’t walked a labyrinth in years, I remind myself that steps taken on a winding pat