Crushed Not Cursed

Written By: S. Tuttle

Welcome to Crushed Not Cursed 

If you’re here, thank you. Really.

My name’s Steve. I’m 28 years old, husband to Shyann, my best friend and headache of over a decade. I am dad to two incredible kids: Kobe, who’s 9 and wise beyond his years, he loves Jesus and electronics and… well that’s about it – and Edie, our 3-year-old firecracker who runs the show and knows it; she’s affectionately known as “queen” or “princess” and that pretty much sums her right up. I wear a lot of hats: husband, dad, project manager, youth leader, worship leader, church production, you name it – but honestly, this blog might be the most personal thing I’ve ever stepped into. <!--more-->

To be real with you, this is kind of terrifying. I’ve always been open and honest on social media, never one to sugarcoat life; but this is different. This is raw. This is deep. This is me, finally telling the story that most people only know in fragments. After a lot of late-night conversations with Shy, I decided it was time to create an outlet. A space where I could be uncensored, because some of this story is too deep for a social media post. I wanted a space to process, to grieve, to heal, and hopefully, to help someone else feel less alone in the middle of their own mess.

Crushed Not Cursed is more than just a title, it’s the theme of my life. Life hasn’t always been easy. I’ve walked through some incredibly dark places: poverty, addiction, abandonment, trauma. I’ve lost people I love. I was forced to grow up too fast and carry more than any kid should ever have to. But I’m not here to write a sob story. I’m here to show that being crushed doesn’t mean you’re cursed. In fact, sometimes the crushing is where God starts to reveal His purpose.

This blog launches 366 days after my mom died of a fentanyl and heroin overdose. That’s not a coincidence. I chose this day on purpose, because I needed something beautiful to come from the ashes. My mom’s battle with addiction was long, painful, and complicated. It robbed us of so many things, but I still loved her. And losing her, even after all the years of hurt, shattered something deep inside me. Some days I still don’t know how to grieve her properly. But I do know this: there’s power in telling the truth. There’s healing in not hiding it anymore.

Still, if I’m honest, I wouldn’t have made it without my Grandma (Granny) Edith, so it’s only right I pay homage to her. She took me in when I was just two weeks old and raised me as her own. That woman walked through literal hell with me and never once let go of my hand. She gave me stability in a world that felt anything but. We held each other up through every storm, and when she passed away on Thanksgiving Day in 2019, it left a hole that still aches. But the strength she carried, that grit and grace lives on in me. I owe so much of who I am to her.

I also can’t leave out the silence of my dad. He left before I ever came along and has only ever reach out to mend fences when there was an underlying benefit for him. And while his absence didn’t scream, it echoed. It shaped me in ways I’m still unpacking. When a father’s supposed to lead, love, and protect, but doesn’t it leaves holes you can’t always name. But even that, somehow, has pushed me closer to the Father who never left. Even in that pain, I’ve come to see how God never left. Even when I didn’t understand it, He was there, writing a different ending than what the world expected for me.

So that’s why I’m here. To write through the wreckage and point to the redemption available through a man named Jesus. To speak about the hard things: poverty, trauma, addiction, grief, abandonment – and still say, without hesitation: God is faithful. He’s been writing a better story than the one I was handed. Even when life is bad, God is still good.

Over the past few weeks, as the one-year mark of my mom’s passing came closer, I found myself reflecting on something my pastor texted me the day of her funeral. A simple message that I reread often: “God has completely rewritten your story… and He’s not finished yet.”

That hit me then – but it hits even harder now. My story didn’t end in addiction or abandonment like statistics would tell you it should. It didn’t end in grief. It’s still being written day by day; in his perfect timing. And if He can bring me through what I’ve been through, He can absolutely do the same for you.

Crushed Not Cursed is where I’ll talk about all of it. The broken parts. The healing parts. The parts that still hurt and the ones that bring hope. You’ll see me process fatherhood, faith, family, loss, and love. You’ll hear about my journey to break generational curses, raise two kids who know what consistency feels like, and walk out the purpose God put on my life – even when it doesn’t make sense.

If you’ve ever felt forgotten or discarded… this space is for you.

If you’ve ever wondered if you could rise from what tried to bury you… this space is for you.

If you’ve been crushed, but you still believe, somewhere deep down – that you’re not cursed, then you’re in the right place.

I’m honored you’re here. Let’s walk this road together.