As a trauma survivor with nowhere to turn, I did what so many desperate and lonely do: I sought Jesus. 

Having grown up in Texas, Christianity was the only belief system I knew, so I found the dusty Bible in the back of my closet and opened it. I was soon filled with a deep love for my faith and started researching more and more about my God. I found a profound sense of hope in believing that there was more to life than the suffering I knew and that there was a better world awaiting me. 

I went to college in a state that was far from my hometown and where I had no family. Finding that adjustment hard, I found a ministry on campus to meet new people. Everyone was welcoming, and we played all sorts of fun games each week and went on camping retreats every semester.

Without even realizing that what was happening wasn’t a healthy way of worship

With time, I desired a deeper understanding of the Bible, so I branched out of the ministry and started church-hopping around the city with my friends from the ministry. Seasons changed, and my friends started getting married and going their own ways out of state until I ended up on my own. Ultimately, my desire to find a strong faith led me to end up at a few different churches that were abusive and controlling, and I ended up enduring about six years of religious abuse at different churches without even realizing that what was happening wasn’t a healthy way of worship. At the time, I didn’t realize that even in religious communities, we must exercise caution with the people we put our hearts out to. When I was fed up with the bad experiences at one church, I didn’t give up on my search for meaning and continued to another church, putting my heart out there repeatedly. In retrospect, my vulnerability was too easy to spot, and people took advantage of that. I trusted that the leaders and other church members “knew more” than I did due to their credentials (many of them had doctorates in theology) and had the answers to life that I was so desperately seeking. So, I blindly followed them, never questioning their motives. (However, their doctrines and denominations all disagreed with each other and argued with each other, believing that their doctrines and congregation members were “superior” to the others, even though they were all Christians, which only heightened my confusion.) 

Developing Religious OCD and Living in Fear

Looking back, my experiences at those churches were very intense. What I endured was so extreme that I started to have religious OCD, where I compulsively began to recite Bible verses I memorized and prayers of repentance, continuously asking God to forgive me for how “awful” I was. My mind was constantly racing, believing that almost everything I did, said, and thought was sinful and that any ounce of joy I experienced from God was “grace” since I was such a horrible person. My apartment counter was filled with stacks of notebook paper with all the verses I repetitively wrote out to memorize so that I could recite them in my head whenever I felt the need to repent throughout my day. I had numerous chapters of the Bible memorized, mostly ones on forgiveness and sin, because I thought that to appease God and avoid eternal damnation, I had to be completely forgiven for how awful I was, and I thought the people in my life who thought negatively of me had to forgive me for the “sins” I committed against them (I use “sins” in quotes because, in all these situations that I thought I was the one in the wrong, I was actually the victim). Being involved in these places also made me adopt even more self-guilt and blame than was already present from all the trauma I had endured, and I started to believe that the things I experienced in these religious communities were some form of punishment for who I was and that I deserved to be punished by God. I started to believe that maybe God didn’t really love me and that I needed to spend my time “working off” my sins and changing all the things about me that were “wrong.” All these thoughts were swirling in my head at a hundred miles per hour each day as I dealt with full-time work and school, making life and focusing on my personal goals even more difficult. 

After years of believing that these religious people were there to help me heal, I realized that was the last thing they wanted to do. They didn’t actually love me or care about my well-being. They were trying to control and manipulate me. They were trying to strip away my true essence, tell me I was never good enough, and “save my soul.” They just wanted to believe that they “saved” (who they thought) was a horrible, wretched person from her sinful ways and force her into the person that their God truly desired her to be. They told me I had to memorize this, read that, pray this way, give away my hard-earned money, throw out my closet, and buy the clothes they wanted me to wear. They even told me that, because I was a woman, I had to shut up and couldn’t open my mouth to ask my pastor any questions I had about the Bible.

I cried for over a week after a 60-year-old married man told me I was “temptation” for him, believing that was my fault and that I still wasn’t “covered up” enough. In these environments, my duty was to sit in the back of the building, look pretty, shut my mouth, and donate my money. Otherwise, I wasn’t good enough for God, and I wouldn’t make it into heaven. These things I mention are just the tip of a traumatic iceberg that I still hold tightly within me, among other traumas that have not left my lips.  

They did a fantastic job at convincing me of how awful I was and that I needed to change literally everything about myself. I needed to find my voice again. I needed to find God’s voice, too. I’m not even sure if there is a God anymore. If there is a God, I can’t picture that God as a kind, loving God. I can only picture the vengeful God of the Old Testament, ready to smite down an entire people for the smallest sin. The God these people taught me about is not a God I can worship. 

Not All Religious People Are Safe People

It’s a common myth that only weak people fall victim to religious abuse. Many doctors, lawyers, and well-educated people in the world congregated next to me and did the same things we were all told to do to gain admission to heaven. The psychological tactics are designed to terrify and control people. It’s unfortunate that some people in religious power prey on people desperately seeking answers and purpose. Looking back, I was convinced that they had the answers and the true path to heaven. I can’t believe how many years I spent terrified that God would throw me into hell because I wasn’t meeting these people’s man-made standards. 

I doubt I would have ended up in these situations if I hadn’t been a severe trauma victim. It was difficult for me to see the red flags at the time because I was desperately seeking a deeper meaning to life and an understanding of God. I don’t understand the motivation they had to control their vulnerable victims, but we were probably the only things in their lives that they could control, and they took the opportunity to do so. While their followers groveled at their feet for God’s forgiveness, they lived in a bubble, reminding themselves that they were above everyone else, immune to the very things they criticized. Through all of this, all the old wounds from my past trauma were wrenched wide open again, and I was living in a dystopian world, thinking that the big man in the sky hated my guts.

My heart hurts for other survivors of religious abuse. My heart hurts for those who think that they’re completely awful because of what “religious” people have said or done to them. 

It Only Made Me Stronger

I am slowly returning to my core self, and I will be stronger once I fully discard those old belief patterns. I’ve completely dissociated from many of those years and have no recollection of so many memories due to that dissociation. I no longer feel the need to try and change myself to please people who will never be pleased, and if people are hateful or make me uncomfortable, then they don’t belong in my life. If they want to judge me as a sinner, think I’m going to hell, or believe that their God smiles more favorably on them, then so be it. Their arrogance no longer intimidates me, it just saddens me. As if anyone has the right to decide who is worthy of God’s love and who isn’t. That’s not the kind of religious life that I want to live. And I know that’s not how the Jesus they claim to love lived either. I believe the stories of Christ found in the Bible are very beautiful and powerful, but it’s unfortunate that so many that claim to represent the love of Christ are incredibly hateful and spend their time trying to indoctrinate other people into adopting their same arrogance while being financially compensated to do so. I do not believe all Christians are bad people; I surround myself with many Christians who are the most loving people I have ever met. But what I realized for myself was that the Christians I was around all those years only loved me when I was conforming to their standards, donating my money, and submitting to their ruthless control.

I still believe spirituality can heal many people, and it is up to them to believe in what they choose. I do not judge another person for what they choose as long as they are a good person and do not use their religious beliefs to hurt or control others. My faith looks very different from what it previously did and is much healthier. From now on, I will pursue a spiritual life that works for me and does not keep me terrified, anxious, and judgmental of others. I will pursue a personal spirituality that does not take away from my core self, which enriches those who love me. I enjoy having conversations with people of all faiths to learn more about the world and understand how their faith helps them. I admire people who have a strong spirituality for themselves and do not allow the opinions, actions, or beliefs of others to affect their own beliefs. I also don’t judge others who choose not to believe in any higher power and find other ways to manage life in this tough world. Everyone is on their own timetable, and it’s unfortunate that many people judge others through the prism of their unbending sense of belief. While everyone has biases, we need to remember that everyone has a story and reasons as to why they have certain beliefs, and there is no way for one human being to understand another human being’s full story.

“Live and let live” is a philosophy that makes life much easier. It took me so long to adopt that philosophy and stop being so hard on myself, to stop believing all the dogmatic lies planted in my head, and start examining the abusive things that were done to me in the name of religion. It was hard, but I can finally say I’ve escaped those dystopian worlds I was in all those years and am no longer threatened by the people I once thought were so powerful.

And those people who stripped away my true essence during that time? They pose to the public as the representatives, leaders, and mouthpieces of a “loving God” and invite people into their houses of worship to do these things. However, all I hear are the words of Jesus when he admonished the Pharisees that they are like whitewashed tombs – beautiful on the outside, yet on the inside are “full of dead men’s bones and everything unclean.” 

Photo by Susan Wilkinson on Unsplash

 

Guest Post Disclaimer: Any and all information shared in this guest blog post is intended for educational and informational purposes only. Nothing in this blog post, nor any content on CPTSDfoundation.org, is a supplement for or supersedes the relationship and direction of your medical or mental health providers. Thoughts, ideas, or opinions expressed by the writer of this guest blog post do not necessarily reflect those of CPTSD Foundation. For more information, see our Privacy Policy and Full Disclaimer.