Trigger Warning: This opinion piece discusses religious trauma and its impact on personal well-being.
At our very core, we all yearn for acceptance and a sense of belonging. As humans, we crave connection and validation, and we often seek comfort in the arms of faith. But what happens when that very faith is also a source of torment? When the beliefs that were supposed to shelter us shatter our self-worth? Welcome to the world of religious trauma, where you're made to feel like you're never enough.
Growing up, I was part of a fundamentalist flavor of Pentecostal that claimed to have the market on truth cornered. But as the years went by, I couldn't help but notice the inconsistencies, implausibility, and hypocrisies. The pressure to conform, the fear of divine retribution, and the incessant need to meet impossible standards left me terrified for my soul.
To this day, I fight a never-ending battle for self-worth. It’s 1:16 a.m., and I can’t sleep, so I started working on my laptop and thought about starting a project to get ahead tomorrow, telling myself it would make me feel more safe and confident in my job.
Then I snapped out of it, realizing this is a side effect of religious trauma, in which I was made to feel like my eternal salvation hinged on how hard I worked to not only earn it, but keep it.
When you grow up feeling like an eternal disappointment, you get trapped in a cycle of inadequacy. Religious trauma leaves behind scars that run deep. The shame and guilt became my constant companions, whispering in my ear that I could never measure up. The internalized messages of being inherently flawed and sinful fueled my negative self-talk and pushed me toward the precipice of perfectionism.
I leaned hard into the identity of being a “good girl,” and as an adult when that façade inevitably wore off, the weight of guilt and shame plummeted me into depression. It sometimes comes as a free bonus to anxiety. Lucky us!
Navigating relationships as you “deconstruct” your faith can feel like a minefield. If I’m honest, I had to wait until my mom was no longer lucid, because I could not bear disappointing her.
Family dynamics are strained under the weight of differing beliefs. Friends drift away as the chasm between your worldviews grows wider.
I yearned for connection, for understanding, and thought by writing my experiences in a memoir, I could achieve it, but as I began sharing it to those close to me, the fear of judgment and rejection shut me down.
But there’s hope for people like us. I realize that healing and self-acceptance are within my reach. It is a painful journey, unearthing the layers of trauma and dismantling the beliefs that were core to my identity during my formative years. Your own personal values and beliefs are just beneath that surface. Everything you need is there.
If you are in this process of healing and self-acceptance, you will discover the power of self-compassion. You will learn to extend grace to yourself, recognizing that you were a product of your experiences but are not defined by them. You will allow yourself to question and explore, finding solace in the authenticity of your own journey.
To those who resonate with this topic, know that you are not alone. Reach out to others who understand, create a community of support and understanding. Together, we can heal and reclaim our self-worth.
The shadows of my past don’t have to dictate my reality. I can move forward rooted in love, acceptance and the pursuit of inner peace.
Religious trauma is real, but we are resilient. We are worthy. And we are deserving of love, compassion and acceptance—both from others and from ourselves.
P.S. A fantastic source of insight and healing to check out on Instagram (@reclaimingself.therapy) is Megan Von Fricken, LCSW, an exvangelical therapist specializing in religious trauma and cult recovery, empowering individuals to heal from childhood wounds tied to their religious upbringing.