Spiritual Trauma and Abuse: Why We Should Be Talking About It
This is not a blog meant to discredit or shame a person’s spiritual beliefs. People have an excellent ability to take a universally good thing and adapt it to their own agenda. I assume these agendas are heavily influenced by their own personal insecurities, trauma, and biases. etc. BUT, that’s just one person’s assumption and if that doesn’t resonate for you, that’s completely fine.
With that being said, so many find themselves on a confusing and distressing path of redefining their identity and beliefs after experiencing trauma within the realm of their religious system. It’s not always the spiritual component that is necessarily harmful, but the loud voices spreading judgment, shame, hate, and fear. We can separate the self from the system, but I’m not saying it’s easy. It’s actually pretty terrifying, and I’m saying that from experience.
This is part of my “why” and how it impacts the work I do today.
I hope you leave this blog post seeing how near and dear this topic is to my heart. I was raised in a very small town in rural Appalachia where conservative Christianity dominated the culture. Absolutely nothing wrong with that…(except when there was).
I vividly remember my church youth group. I also, in great detail, remember the incredible avoidance of any conversation related to sex and intimacy except the, “Don’t do it or you’ll go to hell.” Alrighty then, I don’t want to go to hell and burn for eternity so I’ll just have to stay “pure” and wait for my husband where we can live happily ever after. (Spoiler: that’s not what happened.)
I was pre-adolescent at this time so the plan seemed like it would be easy. There was no room or opportunity for questions or curiosity, and now I know it’s because the people leading and teaching didn’t know the answers either. I don’t fault them for this but I do genuinely hope that they can find healing for themselves at some point if they haven’t already.
Now is when things get interesting. Hormones enter the picture, boys start looking like fun, and I absolutely despise being told what I can and can’t do. Sounds like a fairly common adolescent experience, right? Well, you would be entirely wrong according to the spiritual leaders of my time. Desire was a sin of the flesh, arousal (no matter how involuntary it was) was a sign of weak faith, and if your body wasn’t covered and concealed, you were tempting others into stumbling on their own spiritual walk with Christ.
We weren’t supposed to go to prom, even though I did, because we were taught that kids were “having sex in the corners.” I was allowed to date but shouldn’t want to. Any girl known to have had sex was labeled a “slut” and deserved to be isolated. Victims of sexual assault or harassment were “asking for it.” I can’t even write this without some pretty strong somatic reactions and even stronger language running through my head. I may be a therapist but I’m a whole person with some pretty angry parts too! The awful part is, that’s just the tip of the iceberg of what I’m willing to share in this blog. Not because I don’t want to, because I really, really do, but because I’m supposed to follow a word count or whatever (insert exasperated eye roll here). If you relate to any part of this or know someone who might, this is the blog for you.
What is Spiritual Trauma?
Let’s start with a common definition of “trauma,” which is any deeply distressing or disturbing event that produces adverse emotional responses. Trauma can be difficult to determine or identify because every person reacts uniquely to a situation. For example, a group of people experience the same event but not all of them will experience distress. This is why we must be very careful in assuming someone has experienced trauma based on the event itself without taking into account their personal response to the event.
Now, building off of that definition, religious trauma is exactly what it sounds like. It is a term used to describe a distressing or disturbing experience that involves religion or spirituality. In my experience, religion was often used by some of those around me to exert control and power over others, particularly women and children. The concept of purity, which we will most certainly be getting into in a later blog, creates a little nagging voice inside that constantly reminds us that we aren’t, and never will be, “good enough”...whatever that even looks like. What about that existential fear and dread installed from infancy that if we don’t do the right thing, the fiery pit of lava and torture is our eternal and infinite destiny. We haven’t even hit on religious cults yet.
Probably one of the most devastating experiences I’ve encountered occurred when I was around 16 or 17 years old. I had a completely unmanaged and, frankly, ignored eating disorder…wonder why. I was severely underweight, eating less than 500 calories but still running three to five miles a day. I was unwell.
I remember sitting one row from the front in the sanctuary listening to our Sunday morning sermon being delivered by my current boyfriend’s father (yep, I dated the pastor’s kid for quite a while). The pastor walks down from the pulpit and starts preaching at me, in front of the entire congregation, about my clear disrespect and disregard for my body as a temple of God because I wasn’t feeding it enough. Spoiler: my ED surprisingly did NOT improve and actually became significantly worse. We aren’t surprised, right? I clearly remember the room going blurry and entirely shutting down for the rest of the message. I am now, have been for quite a long time, in full remission regarding the disordered eating symptoms after I received some legitimate treatment as an adult.
Indicators of Religious Trauma
Phew…deep breath… and now let’s talk about some impacts of experiencing religious trauma. The CPTSD Foundation has an excellent blog post by Beth Alford titled, “When Religion Becomes Traumatic,” which thoroughly describes the characteristics of religious trauma and its relation to complex post-traumatic stress disorder. Alford explains that the primary indicators that someone is surviving and trying to cope with religious trauma are captivity, psychological domination, and personality erosion. Wowza, those are some pretty intense vocabulary words, my friends.
This is how I understand them. Captivity is referencing any form of external rules or dogma organized by an authoritarian group or leader that must be adhered to in order to stay safe, worthy, deserving, secure, and/or accepted. I have a story for this! When I was in high school, I was very much involved in my church at the time, if you didn’t already figure that out. I also really wanted to get a job as a server in a local restaurant. My friend got me the job and I was ecstatic to start something new. I told my pastor my plans and he responded with a withering look of disapproval and said that I shouldn’t be working at a place of sin like that because they would be serving alcohol and God would be disappointed in me. So, I didn’t take the job.
This experience also describes a bit of psychological domination because my fear of disappointing God (after further reflection it was actually fear of disappointing others) dominated any joy, excitement, or sense of belonging that was growing. Many times, the Bible is used in much the same way by sending a very biased and domineering message to shame others, instill fear, or create unrealistic expectations.
One of the most common I see in my therapy office is the complete dissociation from feeling arousal and desire because those are sinful impulses, but after marriage the switch can’t just flip back on. Now we are perceived to be lacking as a partner because we can’t meet our spouses' needs but we don’t even know our own bodies. How does anyone win this game? The rigidity in beliefs and restriction of the human experience can cause so much harm to an individual’s internal belief system, and significantly impact how we form relationships and interact with the world around us.
Personality erosion. I’ve seen it in myself, I’ve seen it in my friends and family, and I see it almost every day in my office. We lose or never learn how to develop our sense of meaning and purpose. We are consistently told what others think our purpose should be and usually that aligns closely with a generalized human agenda. This can continue on forever, or make the 180-degree flip into suffocating from skepticism, lack of trust, and intense confusion about what we feel, like, or even think.
What it doesn’t do is take into consideration the unique beauty that is encapsulated within each individual and the potential they have both personally and at large. I would have never considered my quirks to be a good thing while I was engrossed in people-pleasing behaviors and trying to follow the “rules” the elders of my church taught me. I had to be what that other person wanted or needed. Now I find that the people who genuinely care about and support me adore those quirks and honestly, they are part of what makes me good at my job. Once I learned to align with my uniqueness and begin releasing unrealistic expectations, I found beauty within myself too (I also found some ADHD…). I found my purpose in this life and even when I’m surrounded by chaos, nothing has felt more peaceful.
Next Steps
If you are ready to start exploring and healing from your own experiences, we would love to help! The therapists at Aligning Intimacy are passionate about facilitating a compassionate and judgment-free environment to answer questions, create a secure space, and partner with you as you create an alignment within yourself and your relationships. We are just an email or phone call away! Click the “Contact Us” button below to get started!