Wynonna Judd opens up about a lifetime of emotional struggles, including the suicide of her mother, Naomi, the revelation of her biological father’s identity, and the complex grief tied to her family’s secrets and generational trauma. Raised in poverty and shaped by her mother’s public persona and hidden mental health battles, Wynonna experienced early emotional suppression, leading to codependency and a deep sense of responsibility. At 30, she discovered her father was not her biological father, a revelation that triggered profound grief. She shares how her new album, *The Hard Truth*, serves as both a personal testament and a healing tool, allowing her to embrace vulnerability and express unspoken pain through song. Her journey includes the challenges of raising her daughter Grace, who battles drug addiction and is currently incarcerated, and the emotional toll of raising her granddaughter Kalia. Wynonna emphasizes that grief is not a weakness but a path to strength, and that acknowledging pain—especially through art and honest conversation—leads to healing. The interview also highlights the broader need to destigmatize mental health struggles, particularly in families where shame and silence are common. The emotional depth of her story is paired with a message of hope: overcoming pain requires love, honesty, and resilience. The segment concludes with a connection to the ASPCA’s mission, underscoring that compassion—whether for animals or people—depends on empathy, support, and collective action.
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Welcome to All There Is.
Wherever you are in the world and in your life, I'm glad you're here.
I sat down last Wednesday with Wynonna Judd.
From a distance, she's always seemed kind of larger than life to me.
But sitting across from her and talking with her about the losses in her life and the grief work she's been doing,
I was really moved by her and by her honesty.
Wynonna is 62 and got her first record contract with her mom, Naomi Judd, when she was 18.
She's been through a lot in those years, a lot of highs and lows.
And she's not only talking about them now, she's singing about them as well.
Her new album, The Hard Truth, is deeply personal.
She co-wrote most of the songs, working alongside her husband, Cactus Moser.
And you'll hear a bunch of them that we'll also talk about because they tell a story of loss that's beyond words.
Wynonna was born in Ashland, Kentucky, in the Appalachian foothills.
She grew up poor with her mom and sister, Ashley, who was on the podcast several seasons ago.
Naomi Judd died by suicide in April 2022.
And we'll be speaking about that in this interview.
Wynonna says the depth of her mom's mental health issues was kept secret over the years.
There were a lot of secrets in Wynonna's life.
The man she thought was her father was actually her stepfather.
Wynonna wasn't told the truth until she was 30.
And she says everyone else around her always knew and they just lied to her.
When she decided to try to meet her biological dad, he'd already died.
Wynonna is also going through a lot with her estranged daughter, Grace,
who's battled drug addiction.
Throughout her life, and is currently incarcerated.
Wynonna and Cactus are raising Grace's four-year-old daughter, Kalia.
Here's my conversation with Wynonna Judd.
Thank you so much for doing this.
You won't remember this, but we met once before.
It was an album release party, I think, in New York.
And watched you play, and you were incredible.
And then afterward, you were like upstairs on like a dais.
And I approached you, and I was so nervous.
And what I remember you saying to me, you said,
"Andison, some days, you just got to put on your alma."
"You just got to put on your alma."
Alma, I like your accent. What did you do?
I don't know where that accent came from, but it's not really yours.
But it's the only Southern I'm really, my dad's from Mississippi.
But that idea, weirdly, has stuck in my head.
Interesting.
And I cannot tell you how many times, like, I'm brushing my teeth in the morning,
look in the mirror and be like, "Andison, you just got to put on your alma."
That's awesome.
I feel like I have a relationship.
We're connected, we're connected.
A relationship with you through that, yeah.
Oh, my gosh.
Is that a line you use?
No, I don't know where the heck that came from.
It's such a good, I was like, "Oh, my God, you're so right, yes."
You're right.
But I think it's also good to take off your armor.
I agree.
And so that's what I'm trying to do on this podcast.
That's what we're doing today.
Yeah.
Is grief something you have felt, been aware of feeling for a long time?
Since I can remember, since I can remember.
I think I've always felt grief because on some level,
Yeah.
Anderson, I just knew that I was born into such a chaos.
I just knew on some level that I was sort of the chosen one with one set of
grandparents and then in the way on the other side kind of thing.
So I think there was a sadness, a grieving, if you will.
And I knew how distracted and overwhelmed my mother was because she was so young,
17 when she got pregnant, coming out of high school.
Wow.
So back in 1960.
1963, women didn't get pregnant without having a partner.
And I knew that mom was overwhelmed.
How did you figure out a way through?
I recently read a book called "The Highly Sensitive Person."
And it changed my thinking because I did everything I could to not cry or not upset anybody.
And I became such a codependent early in my life because I knew how to alter my state so that I wouldn't upset the system.
I couldn't really be myself.
I couldn't be the highly sensitive kid I was.
Did you cry as a kid?
Oh, a lot.
I still do.
I cry a lot.
You do?
I do because I'm grieving still.
I buried it so early on.
I just wanted to build a life raft and I just tried to push forward.
I did too.
Do you still feel like you're doing that or do you feel like you're turning to that grief?
I'm turning to it and I use it on stage.
As well as off stage and I have a partner.
Cactus is my companion in a way that I've never had that experience with a man before who was so loving and even walking up here, he prayed over me.
So I have such a support team.
People who say, "Lean into it.
Let it come."
I've been trying to develop a companionship with grief, like a relationship with it rather than running from it.
I feel the little boy that I was back then when I came up with all these strategies and plans.
That makes me want to cry.
That's so sweet.
Do you feel the little girl you were?
I do.
I did a lot of work around this.
I did a lot of work.
I did 42 days in sort of a treatment program.
I wrote letters to myself and they talked about protecting the little girl and letting her be and seen and heard, which I
wasn't as a child.
So I've worked really hard at getting that companionship like you're talking about.
Was that helpful?
It changed my life.
It changed my life.
I'm always embarrassed to talk about it because it seems so like cliche.
I'm like, "Oh, okay, the little child within you."
But like, it's been incredible.
Nobody was around to protect me in a sense.
Everybody was distracted.
So I had to take care of myself.
And then when Ashley was born, I knew on some level I was responsible
for her.
You're also in this situation as a kid where your mom, as you've said, wants to be
famous and hears your voice as a way to propel everybody out.
It was a way out of the holler.
She knew.
When did you know that she had that idea in mind?
I was probably 12.
I would say somewhere between 8 and 10, mom started to hone in on the gift.
And really set me up for success.
She raised a champion in Ashley and in me to go for it.
And I think she was living through that with me and started singing with me.
I would learn songs, Joni Mitchell, I was doing Bonnie Raid and Linda Ronstadt.
I wanted to be them.
And she started to harmonize.
And it was so otherworldly that people started to notice.
And I remember getting that high, knowing that we had something
of some kind of power over people.
Because when we would sing, this harmony was just like an angelic thing.
It was just marvelous.
And people started to notice.
And so I think somewhere around 12, she knew.
There's something incredible about having this gift and also having somebody who sees it
and encourages it.
There's also something that's a lot of pressure and you're 12 years old.
How did you start to feel about it over the years as a kid?
I was very shy, very introverted, to the point of terrified to sing in front of people by myself.
I could do it with mom really easy.
But doing it on my own, my stepfather would make me sing at parties and I would be mortified.
And I remember thinking, I can't do this.
But somehow with mom, I could.
So she became my absolute barometer for me.
You know, happiness and joy and all the things that you feel when you're making your parent proud.
I knew.
I knew that she was proud of me when I did the singing thing.
So you can imagine how much I wanted to fulfill that fantasy.
That God mom was as ambitious as she was.
She took the lead on it.
She was the boss.
I worked for her.
And that's what it was.
It was work.
It was work.
Because it was too much for me as an introvert.
I was so green and I couldn't even balance my checkbook hardly.
I just wasn't a business person.
I just wanted to sing.
I didn't care.
She loved the fame.
Loved.
Had the wave.
Wore the outfits.
Twirled on stage.
Loved an audience.
And I just wanted to rock with a band.
I didn't care about all that.
You get signed at you're 18.
At 17, you had thoughts of suicide.
Yes.
I attempted.
Mm-hmm.
I was thrown out of the house.
And I went to live with my stepfather.
And he told me I was going to college.
That the singing thing wasn't going to happen.
And I think I went into a real depression.
And one night I took the car.
And I went drinking.
And I tried to run into a tree.
And it didn't work.
But that was my goal.
And I ended up 360 facing the opposite.
It's a God thing for sure.
I just was done.
I didn't think I was going to be in music anymore.
And he wanted me to cut off my, he cut my hair off and wouldn't let me wear makeup because I looked too much like my mom.
Yeah.
So I was living just in this state of hell on earth, knowing that my dream was over.
Did you really want to end your life?
Yes, I was done.
I was done.
I had such a tumultuous relationship with my stepfather, and now I know why.
But at the time, I didn't.
And for him to be that in my face about not singing was taking oxygen from me.
I was just overcome with grief and sadness and anger, and I just didn't want to be here anymore.
You thought he was your biological dad?
Yes.
I would learn at 30 that he's not.
Other people, not just your mom, but other people knew.
Everybody knew.
They lied to you.
Everybody did.
Everybody did.
Actually.
I actually knew since she was 11.
Really?
Yeah.
And she didn't tell you?
No one told you?
I actually ended up being the one to tell me.
Mom couldn't.
She was crying too hard, and she just couldn't, she couldn't do it.
So I actually finally blurted it out.
Michael Simonella is not your father, biologically.
When you heard the truth about your dad, you're 30 years old, what do you do?
First thing I said, Anderson, was, Mom, it's okay.
Talk about it.
Talk about codependent.
I was.
Did you believe that, or did you just want to make her feel good?
She was crying so hard.
It was sort of all about her in that moment.
It says a lot about you that you find this devastating news, and you want to comfort her.
I've always been that way with her.
People don't believe me, but I've always thought of her first.
And that's because I always knew that I was her light, because she told me so.
Did you?
Did you feel responsible for her?
Yes, very much so.
I knew at an early age that my mother was not well, and I just felt this unimaginable sense of struggle to keep us going.
We were so poor, food insecurity, barely able to pay the rent.
And thank God for welfare back then, because we made it.
But I just knew that I had to get her out of that.
On some level, I just knew that I was responsible for that.
That feeling is an awful feeling.
It is an awful feeling.
I will tell you this, and I've never said this in an interview before, but at a very early age, my mother looked at me, and I'll never forget it.
I was probably four.
It was when Ashley was being born, and she said, you're Mama's little helper.
And she bought me an apron that said it.
And I have a picture of me doing the dishes.
And on that level, I knew that I was responsible for her.
And it never stopped.
And there was a sense of resentment, because I couldn't be a kid.
I think at age six, I had a meeting with myself and said, okay, time to buck up, put on your armor.
That's probably where that came from.
And it's time to get this family out of depression and poverty.
And I just knew, you know, that I was responsible for Ashley.
I just did.
I was left with her so much by myself that I learned to cook.
It's terrifying.
I learned to cook when I was six.
My mom had a picture by some artist, and underneath it said, the strong child.
And in my mind, I always said to myself, I am the strong child.
I still have that print hanging on my wall in my closet where I see it every day.
And I say to myself—
That's quite a burden, my dear.
It's messed up.
It's okay, because we're not victims.
Well, that's for sure.
Yeah.
To be on the road and working.
And have this incredible success.
But to have that feeling of, I got to do this because, you know, because you're the strong child.
That's a lot.
It is a lot.
And I'm the firstborn.
So I was put in a position of being strong from a very early age.
And I was the sad kid who was emotional and sweet because I wanted people's love more than anything in this world.
It was oxygen to my brain.
So it was just a sadness of not being able to go outside and play.
Because I had to do chores.
But it also made me the strong woman I am today.
Did you want, like, God, I wish somebody would just step in?
Like, isn't there an adult who can come in here and help?
My mamaw did.
Your mamaw did.
Michael Simonella, my stepfather, his mother took me into her arms at age 12 and said,
I love you.
I have always loved you since I knew you were going to be born.
And I will always love you.
And she was telling me then.
You're going to find out that I'm not biological.
And you're going to know that you were loved and chosen.
She wanted to implant that in you.
Absolutely.
100%.
When did she die?
1985, 86, somewhere in there.
And I'm still to this day in denial.
I just can't believe she's gone.
She raised me and loved me and let me sing anytime I wanted to sing.
And nobody did that.
She was the one that said, sing to me.
And she let me do it authentically.
There was no performance, right?
Because you know how kids learn to perform and get attention.
This was love unconditionally.
I wanted to actually play the song from the new album that you wrote about your dad.
I didn't know my daddy.
I guess he was proud.
That's the first two lines.
It's a heavy song.
It's a beautiful song.
You're off the hook
But my heart's hollowed out
Like the spark where they found you
Watching me on TV
On your couch with your last breath
Did you finally see
I was always ready
For you to love me
I can't help but feel mad
At these words that I read
How can a headstone
Find you
Know you
Better than me
Better than me
Better than me
I was ready to find you
But you were ready to leave
The girl who loved me
You could see
Before you left
I didn't quite get your last name
Did you hear the same lies
That kept us away
Two worlds apart
I'm crying there
He wouldn't let me fix the vocal
Who could see
Who I was to you
Was still a mystery to me
Was I ever
Really your daughter
I didn't know my daddy
I guess he was proud
The block turns in Coal Mine, Kentucky
Where he sleeps
In the ground
It's beautiful
What an extraordinary thing
To be able to
Turn
What's in here
Into that
And give that to people
It's extraordinary
Thank you
, sir.
Sorry.
There's no sorry.
Yeah.
I try not to do sorry anymore.
When you found out his name,
did you try to find him?
I did.
Charles Jordan is my biological father.
I found out what he looked like in a tabloid
because someone had taken a picture of him.
I was going to go meet him and he died
two weeks later.
You saw him for the first time in a tabloid?
Mm-hmm.
Yeah.
So this is him?
That's him.
Do you know much about him?
I don't.
I'm going to start
the process of learning more.
I met my brother six years ago.
His son.
His son.
So I now have a brother
that I'm very close to.
Very close to.
He's my light.
You question this in the song.
Did you ever buy a ticket?
Did you come to a show?
Yeah.
He knew about me.
Everybody knew about them.
And on some level,
Mom talked to Michael
in a way
and I still don't know
the whole story about this,
but he really thought
he was the father.
So he married Mom.
And he didn't find out,
he didn't hear the words,
you're not the father
until Ashley was born.
When you heard that
and you saw
all the clips,
newspaper clips
and People magazine clips.
I don't even know words
that can define it.
I think I was just
despondent for a while. Here I have everything, Anderson. I'm the American dream. I can do
anything I want to do musically. I can go wherever I want to go in the world, and yet I don't know
who my father is. And this isn't something I can fix. There was no choice. He died. So it was over
before I could do anything, really. And I was terrified that he was going to be
the guy that, you know, just wanted to be around me because I was famous. So I put it off. Please
don't put things off, people. Make the phone call. I regret it every day. You knew who he was,
but you didn't try to find him early. Correct. By the time you tried to find him, he had already
died. Correct. And that's the regret. That's the regret. I grieve that still to this day,
because I think, of course, you know, what if? What if he was a good guy? What if he knew me?
He would love me. He would love me. He would love me. He would love me.
He would love me. It's a mystery to me. He was the missing piece in the family because it's so
dysfunctional. I was in the middle of, you know, two families that knew that I was not Michael's
biological daughter. And there was a lot of fighting and arguments over me.
My mom's dad died when she was 15 months old, and she really knew nothing, very little about him.
She always had a fantasy her entire life that he had written her a letter and that someday
this letter was going to kind of show up somewhere. I totally get that. Yeah, I know. I get it too.
The knight in shining armor. Yeah. Yeah. Of course, there was no letter. There was no letter.
Well, I hope you find some more answers. I know. I do too.
We'll have more with Wynonna Judd in a moment.
Before we get into the show, here's something worth your time.
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the ASPCA shows up. They rescue animals in crisis and provide life-saving medical care.
They help animals recover, and they give them the second chance they deserve.
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I'm Dr. Sanjay Gupta, host of the Chasing Life podcast.
We're going to talk about rethinking how we die, how we think about death,
and the first place greatly informs how we live. Our guest is Dr. B.J. Miller. He's a hospice and
palliative care physician. We are aging as a people. This is a worldwide phenomenon that we
are aging and therefore getting closer to the end of life on some level as a group. It's not at all
surprising that you'll see a revving up of interest, services, and also sort of anxiety
that pushes us away from the subject and makes us cling to life.
Listen to Chasing Life, streaming now, wherever you get your podcasts.
Your mom had talked publicly about depression, but she didn't really go into the full scope of
the level of pain that she was in. She never did. She was so shamed.
That's why. It was shame.
Shame and guilt. And I think she was very fragile, and she didn't want to ever reveal that. Very
tender and sweet sometimes.
Very tender and sweet sometimes, but then very strict and very hard on me. So I think she battled
with that dynamic so much because she wanted to be entertaining and fun, and she wanted to be famous.
It's exhausting, though. If you're struggling with depression and mental illness,
to have that facade to maintain, that's a lot.
Yep. She was definitely let down by the pharmaceuticals and the doctors. She got what
she wanted from certain doctors. She battled pretty severely in the end, and I knew it, and it broke my heart
over and over again because she just never got the help she needed, and it was debilitating.
For you to also have to keep the public facade to protect her, the secrets she wanted to keep,
that's also exhausting.
It is exhausting. That's why I did this record. These songs are my. Mm-hmm. testimony. I'm literally standing in front of the church giving my deepest, darkest moments
before God, and I'm just begging to be understood and heard, at least, because if it wasn't for this
music, I don't know if I would have made it or not because my heart was so broken.
Let's play a little bit of Broken and Blessed.
Yeah. I'm probably going to cry again.
That's all right. Me too.
I'm here. I'm ready to live in this day.
I'm not alone at all. It brings my way because I know who I am.
I am here, broken and blessed, my worst and my best.
I sing no matter the shape that my heart is in.
Hey, it doesn't have to be black or white.
When I lay my body down in the dead of the night.
I'm just praying for the light when I'm somewhere between hell and hallelujah.
I love it. The singing helped.
Yeah. It's everything.
I think about these songs constantly. When I say I'm somewhere between hell and hallelujah,
that's every day. That gives me the permission to keep on trying, to keep on walking. Find
something that you're so passionate about that you cannot not do it, and that's what I did with
this record. That line is great.
I just love these words, and each song has such a meaningful place in my grieving that the words
literally helped heal me.
I must say, since I heard this, I stopped saying to myself in the mirror,
you got to put on your arm, and I've started to say I'm broken and blessed.
Yes. It's true. I am broken and blessed, and everybody's confused about that because I don't
know if people really know that you can be both in one second. You can. You can live with the pain.
You really can. You really can if you're willing to let it ebb and flow. And broken and blessed,
I feel like I can. I feel like I can. I feel like I can.
I feel like both in any given moment and every day.
It's really only in the last year I've been saying to myself, I am so broken,
and I'm kind of okay with it. It's kind of nice to acknowledge.
It's not a weakness.
It's not.
It's not for me anymore. It used to feel like that, but I don't feel that way anymore. I can be
brokenhearted on stage and say, man, I'm feeling brokenhearted today. My daughter, dot, dot, dot,
or what it's like to raise a kid.
At 62 or whatever, I can say it now, and I'm like you. I don't feel the shame of it
because it's part of who I am.
It's that old line, you're stronger in the broken places.
Andrew Garfield was on this podcast, and he talked about the wound is the only route to the gift.
And I think that's a great way to think about it.
I rejected the wound. I didn't want to feel it because I didn't want the pain of it.
And by doing that,
I've deprived myself of the gift, which is feeling and feeling
the people who are dead, feeling them still alive inside me and feeling the love that I had for them.
I wouldn't go to these retreats and stuff for the longest time because I literally thought
I would die of a broken heart while there. I went to a six-day intensive. It was just me
and a group of people at a facility in Nashville. And I did the work, and I did the work, and I did
the work. And I trusted the process. And to this day, I'm like, I'm not going to die of a broken
heart. I'm actually going to be okay. It's called On Sight. It's in Nashville. And it's where my
journey began in 2006.
I think grief feels so lonely.
It does feel lonely.
And yet, it is this road that generations of people who,
you come from, have walked down. And everybody who has ever lived will walk down at some point
in their life.
Absolutely.
When my brother died by suicide, it was a complete shock to me. I subsequently learned it
maybe shouldn't have been. And there were a lot more signs than I realized and things I didn't
know. Was it a shock to you that your mom died by suicide?
No. She talked about it a lot, even to her grandson, who's a deputy, about jumping off
a bridge. And she talked about it so much with me. I don't know who else besides Ashley, but she
talked about it a lot.
and I think I got to the point where no no no no no no you're not going to do that you're you have
too much to live for do you remember the first time she talked about it and how you felt about
it I don't remember the first time because she talked about it so much but I do know that she
was always watching those shows those damn shows on tv about stuff like that and I just remember
thinking what is she doing I don't understand and she'd call me and say I don't want to be here
anymore and I'd go over and spend the night with her and it was awful it was really awful she was
really struggling in the end we'll be back with Wynonna in a moment
your daughter has struggled with with drugs you've been very open about that I think she's
incarcerated right now you have a song about the drive you were making to visit her
incarcerated the three-hour drive there and back and you are raising her daughter who's now four
that's a whole other kind of grief it's ongoing it never leaves me i'm aware of grace every minute
of my day and my heart breaks because she the money run out and she cut me off and it's the
letting go. And it's the hard love, tough love, all those terms come to mind. And she's really
mad at me right now. She is not communicating with you because? Because I said no. I enabled
her so much that I've spent a fortune on her recovery, trying to save her. And it doesn't
work that way. And I finally get it. Finally get it. And when she had Kalia, she was still using.
And I stepped in to save Kalia, and now she has type 1 diabetes,
so that's a 24-7 kind of thing where we have to check on her even in the middle of the night.
So I just stepped in because she wasn't sober, and she's really mad at me right now, and that's okay.
Because Grace has a destiny, and I'm waiting.
I'm a mother in waiting.
I sit every day and think about it all the time, what could I have done differently?
I feel like I have failed her in some ways, and then yet I gave her money to buy a car, and she used it to buy meth.
That's the drug she's using, meth?
It's an awful drug.
It's debilitating.
She's been using since she was about 12, which I didn't know.
Not meth, but she started out with dope and pills and stuff like that and here and there.
And in jail, you can get as much drug as you want.
So it doesn't mean you're sober when you're incarcerated.
Going to visit her in a prison, I had two hours with her.
And I could hug her once, which in itself was, can you imagine not hugging your kid?
But I went every week and sat and listened to her.
And she wants to be well, and I want her to be well.
But the grief of that is hard to explain.
When mom died by suicide, the next morning I went to the Country Music Hall of Fame and
got inducted into the Hall of Fame, and I still don't know how I did it, but I did because
it was the next right thing, and I kept breathing, and I thought, I have a destiny too.
So that's how I get through stuff, is I realize Grace has a destiny.
I'm part of her story, but she's 30 years old, and she cannot continue to blame me forever.
But I'm just going to start taking better care of myself and say no.
And that's what I had to start doing with her.
And it almost killed me.
You mentioned that the day after your mom died, we have that video.
Is it all right if I play that?
I'm going to make this fast because my heart's broken.
And I feel so blessed.
And it's a very strange dynamic to be this broken and this blessed.
This is the first time I've talked since saying goodbye to her.
At 2.20, I kissed her on the forehead, and I walked away.
And this is the first place I've been, so.
The last thing we did together as a family with her was we all gathered around her.
And we said, the Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures.
He leadeth me beside the still waters.
Surely, goodness and mercy
shall follow me in all the days of my life.
And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.
It's lovely.
I don't even remember doing that.
You don't?
No, I don't remember hardly any of it.
But I did it, and I'm really grateful.
I think that's probably where Broken and Blessed got started.
I was wondering.
Yeah, that's probably where it got started.
You also write a song.
This is To Your Mom, All Down Hill from Ashland.
Hey, hey, mama, can you hear me now?
I'm far from heaven, but I'm screaming loud.
You held the curse from your mama's hands
For me to wear around me like a family brand
Well, I was left here in the space between
Where you couldn't love you, so how could you love me
If you left your demons back in the holler
While they held your dragon knee into the muddy waters
Kentucky roots burning deep in our blood
And there are some things that you just can't arise above us
If we'd have known the beginning was the end
We should have known, we would have known the truth is
It was all downhill from Ashland.
You held the curse from your mama's hands for me to wear around me like a family brand.
Some deep stuff there, brother.
Yeah, it sure is.
Generational curses, things that pass down from generation to generation.
You feel that, you believe that.
I believe that with all my heart.
I've started to believe that too.
I do.
It's like an alcoholic. If your great-grandfather was an alcoholic, and your grandfather was an alcoholic, and your father's an alcoholic, the chances are good that you could be, too.
It's just a thing that's passed down from generation to generation.
Do I believe in breaking them now? Hell yeah.
That's why I'm breaking the cycle with Cactus and raising our granddaughter. I'm breaking the cycle.
I am emphatic about raising Kalia differently.
Do you talk to your mom?
Do you talk to the people you love?
Yeah.
I do a lot.
I do a lot.
Do you do it in your head or out loud?
Both.
Well, I bet you love that, Mom.
You know, or, hey, I've lost 20 pounds.
Does she talk back?
No.
Not yet.
Not yet.
What about you?
I talk to my dad.
Do you?
A lot.
And I feel him for the first time.
Interesting.
Because I ran from it, I didn't really feel anybody, but I do feel him.
I had a nanny who was really my mom for the beginning of my life.
And in May, she was Scottish.
I talked to her all the time.
It's comforting.
It is comforting.
It is comforting.
Very comforting.
Yeah.
I can't.
Yeah, I can't talk to my brother.
And I can't see him.
Like, I don't.
There's something about the way he died that all I see is that.
Okay.
I'm at that place where all I see is her laying on the floor and her body.
And I get it.
I know what you're saying, that grief is so deep and wide.
Yeah.
It's so, um, the, um, the violence of it and the horror of it is shocking still to me.
I hear you.
I wish I could give you a hug.
It's okay.
All this is important, though, to share with people.
Yeah.
Because we're not alone.
Yeah.
Somebody said this to me, somebody who dies by suicide.
They're obviously in tremendous pain, and they just want the pain to end.
But the pain doesn't actually end.
It just gets transferred to everybody else.
Amen.
Yeah.
This is probably the weirdest interview you've done, right?
Yeah.
Were you like, wait a minute, he's doing a whole show on grief?
I wanted to do this.
How long is it?
I wanted to do this.
I'm grateful.
Grief is something that we should look at so differently and we don't.
I love when I can sing with a broken heart because I give it everything I've got,
like I'm literally begging for my life through a song.
When Cactus and I are on stage, we're singing Love Can Build a Bridge,
love can build a bridge and I'm feeling my mother and I'm looking up at her and I'm
feeling this holy spirit moment and i look out in the audience and someone's crying it's
it's a language of love for me on stage that grief is part of who i am and people you know
their comments are i thought winona was so strong she has everything she's made it you know what is
she crying about well i'm crying about all this crap that's happened to me and it's made me feel
grief but i'm not going to give up i'm going to walk through it same as you that's why you're
doing this podcast to help others if i can help one person not commit suicide if i can help one
person get the help they need and reach out and not do it alone then i've done my part i just
want them to feel like they can do the same thing that i did in terms of moving forward but not to
do it numb to really feel and embrace
you
every aspect of life and i'm marching through the storm literally like
good luck you know getting me down today devil i think there's a moment at the end of the day
where i'm like well son of a i made it through another day without being a victim i don't feel
that way anymore i saw a quote you said the pain of losing mom on 4 30 to suicide is so great that
i often feel like i'm not going to be able to do it again i'm going to be able to do it again
i'm not ever going to be able to fully accept and surrender to the truth that she left the way she
did this cannot be how the judge story ends
that was then no i don't feel that way as much anymore because i now know that there's such a
stigma when you say mental illness nobody wants to talk about it and there is so much shame and
guilt about carrying the secret that at the time i just i couldn't believe it obviously i was in
denial and i went through that so i
passed that stage and i'm now in the place of acceptance i accept it for the first time in four
years i'm now at a place where i can forgive her and love her in spite of it i have pictures
glorious pictures of the two of us and in one picture i'm holding her and just the tenderness
on my face you know that's my mom that's my sweetie pie and she's my love and i love her so deeply
that i can see her as fragile and not the way that i would when she was strict and in her manic
state i can see her in the sweetness there's a sweetness that happened no matter what was going
on in life when we hit the stage we would look at each other and everything is okay and it worked
for a long time there's a video of you guys i think it was the last time you were on stage
together is right to play that sure
it's our last performance last performance yeah
let me show you what love means love can build a bridge
between your heart and mine
love can build a bridge don't you think it's time
don't you think it's time
this is really happening
in spite of it all we still could sing is there something you've learned in grief that would be
helpful for others for me i embrace it sometimes i even plan a day around it really i just x out
the day and say i'm just gonna spend time her ashes are down at the lake
on our farm and i go down to the lake and sometimes we fish sometimes we just sit there and look around
and i'll just go down there and waste time because it works for me do you feel her there yes
very much so her farm was right next to mine so her land butts up to mine i do feel her a lot
i think she would be proud of me for making this record because it was hard but grief for me means
that i'm able to embrace it i use it for my art writing these songs i'm able to be a better
grandmother because i embrace the grief and i'm not ashamed of it anymore thank you so much for
doing this oh i i love you i'm just so proud of you for doing this i think it helps a lot of people
oh i hope so i know it helps me and it helps me to talk to you so i really appreciate it
if you have thoughts you'd like to share about my conversation with winona you can leave us a
message at cnn.com slash all there is and if there's something you've learned in grief that
would be helpful for others we'd love to hear from you leave us a voicemail at 404-827-1805
on thursday october 22nd i hope you join me at 9 15 p.m for my streaming show all there is live
it's on every other thursday and you can watch new episodes live on cnn.com slash all there is
and it streams for free on our community page for a week after it airs live
to watch all the episodes subscribe to cnn all access at cnn.com slash all access
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Podcast Summary
Key Points:
Wynonna Judd shares her deeply personal journey of grief, loss, and healing following the suicide of her mother, Naomi Judd, and the emotional turmoil of discovering her biological father was not her stepfather.
She reveals long-held secrets in her family, including being lied to about her parentage and the emotional strain of growing up in a household marked by secrecy, depression, and codependency.
Her new album, *The Hard Truth*, is a direct expression of emotional pain and resilience, with songs that explore identity, loss, and the strength found in vulnerability.
Wynonna reflects on how grief has become a central part of her life, transforming into a source of strength and artistry, allowing her to confront pain rather than suppress it.
She speaks openly about her daughter Grace’s struggles with drug addiction and incarceration, highlighting the ongoing emotional toll and the difficult balance of love, boundaries, and responsibility.
The conversation emphasizes the need for societal understanding of mental health, breaking down shame and stigma around suicide and depression.
Wynonna credits therapeutic work, spiritual practices, and music as essential tools that helped her heal and find peace with her past.
The episode concludes with a call to action, linking personal healing to broader compassion—highlighting the ASPCA’s mission to support animals through rescue and care, emphasizing that compassion is vital in all areas of life.
Summary:
Wynonna Judd opens up about a lifetime of emotional struggles, including the suicide of her mother, Naomi, the revelation of her biological father’s identity, and the complex grief tied to her family’s secrets and generational trauma. Raised in poverty and shaped by her mother’s public persona and hidden mental health battles, Wynonna experienced early emotional suppression, leading to codependency and a deep sense of responsibility. At 30, she discovered her father was not her biological father, a revelation that triggered profound grief.
She shares how her new album, *The Hard Truth*, serves as both a personal testament and a healing tool, allowing her to embrace vulnerability and express unspoken pain through song. Her journey includes the challenges of raising her daughter Grace, who battles drug addiction and is currently incarcerated, and the emotional toll of raising her granddaughter Kalia. Wynonna emphasizes that grief is not a weakness but a path to strength, and that acknowledging pain—especially through art and honest conversation—leads to healing.
The interview also highlights the broader need to destigmatize mental health struggles, particularly in families where shame and silence are common. The emotional depth of her story is paired with a message of hope: overcoming pain requires love, honesty, and resilience. The segment concludes with a connection to the ASPCA’s mission, underscoring that compassion—whether for animals or people—depends on empathy, support, and collective action.
FAQs
The ASPCA rescues animals facing abuse, neglect, or cruelty and provides life-saving medical care, shelter, and rehabilitation to give them a second chance.
By visiting ASPCA.org/need and becoming a monthly donor, individuals can help fund the care, shelter, and medical treatment that animals in crisis urgently need.
Her new album, 'The Hard Truth,' is deeply personal and explores themes of loss, grief, mental health, and family secrets, co-written with her husband Cactus Moser.
No, she learned the truth about her biological father at age 30, when she found out Michael Simonella, whom she thought was her father, was not biologically related to her.
She has developed a 'companionship' with grief, embracing it as a part of her identity and using it to fuel her music and healing journey.
Wynonna's mother, Naomi Judd, encouraged her early singing career, raised her with a strong sense of responsibility, and was a major influence on her life and music.
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