Part One: Understanding Religious Trauma: Fear, Shame, and the Loss of Belonging.
A First Glimpse of Religious Trauma
I can still remember driving home late at night after seeing the girl I loved, gripped by one terrifying thought: “If I die in a car wreck, I’ll go to hell.”
I was a devout Christian, raised in a conservative, blue-collar South Carolina town. And I was also a teenage lesbian, falling in love for the first time. That “first love” feeling was euphoric and beautiful, yet everything I had been taught in church told me it was sinful and dangerous.
For decades I wrestled with that conflict—between who I was created to be and what my faith community insisted was wrong. Today, I can finally celebrate my identity as part of the Creator’s beautiful diversity. But back then, it felt like a curse and an endless struggle.
Unlike many in the LGBTQIA+ community, I was fortunate to have a mother who became a safe space. When I finally whispered the truth—“Sarah is more than a friend”—she didn’t shame me. Instead, she took me to a bookstore and ordered Mel White’s Stranger at the Gate. His story offered solidarity and hope. Still, it couldn’t erase the deep fear ingrained by my high-demand religious system: that if I died driving home from Sarah’s house, my sexual orientation made me unworthy of “heaven.”
What Is Religious Trauma? Understanding the Impact of High-Demand Religion
That fear is what many of us now recognize as religious trauma. Recent studies suggest that at least one-third of U.S. adults have experienced some form of religious trauma—and the true number is likely higher. Awareness of this reality has grown in recent years, in part due to documentaries exposing harmful religious subcultures, such as Shiny Happy People: Duggar Family Secrets.
At its core, religious trauma refers to harmful experiences within a religious context that create lasting psychological, spiritual, and emotional distress. The impact can show up in many ways: anxiety, chronic fear, shame, guilt, or grief over one’s identity. It often carries a texture of loneliness—not only from the internal struggle but also from losing the community, traditions, rituals, and belonging that once shaped daily life.
The Hidden Costs: Fear, Shame, and the Loss of Belonging
For those who grew up in high-demand religious systems, leaving can feel both freeing and devastating. The very structures that caused harm may also have provided connection and meaning.
I loved the church family I was part of—it was a small-town community that was, in many ways, genuinely loving and kind. But I always secretly wondered: If they knew me—really knew all of who I was—would they still love me?
Naming these wounds is the first step toward reclaiming spirituality and beginning the healing journey.
Innately Spiritual Beings: When Faith and Identity Collide
Many people feel innately spiritual, often sensing a pull toward something deeper, wider, and more spacious than the physical world. Yet in rigid systems, people are often told they must choose between their identity and their spirituality.
For me, this created loneliness and estrangement from who I really was. It sowed shame and unworthiness—along with a nagging sense that something about me was “wrong.” The system I was a part of was deeply heteronormative, and anything outside of that was deemed unacceptable.
Liberation Through Deconstruction: Finding Freedom in New Theologies
I remember having a conversation with my then-brother-in-law about being a lesbian after I came out to my family. It was the typical, conservative Christian conversation: “You know what the Bible says, don’t you?”
Exasperated, I replied: “Yes, I know what the Bible says, but I also know how God created me. I don’t know what else to say!”
About a year later, I entered Vanderbilt Divinity School, where my entire theological framework was lovingly deconstructed. I eventually learned to read the Bible like any other sacred text—through a kaleidoscope of perspectives that stripped it of inerrancy and opened the way to liberation.
Not Everyone Finds Liberation Easily
Not everyone who has endured the wounds of high-demand religious systems finds liberation right away. Many remain isolated, ashamed, and overwhelmed by anxiety. For some, the pain is so great that they abandon not only the harmful system but also their sense of spirituality.
Without tools or support, spirituality itself can feel tainted or unsafe. What’s lost is not only the possibility of a healthy, life-giving spirituality but also the sense of community—even if imperfect—that once gave shape to life.
Religious trauma often hides beneath the surface, showing up in subtle but powerful ways: difficulty setting boundaries, fear of saying no, and disconnection from one’s own sense of Self.
Why Naming the Wounds Matters for Healing
As a board-certified chaplain, I have walked alongside many people healing from religious trauma. Despite painful histories, nearly all of them still carried a deep yearning for the Sacred—for connection with something greater than themselves.
Yet this is the paradox of religious trauma: even the purest longing for the Sacred can be overshadowed by the harmful ways faith was used to control or wound. Untangling the Sacred from the hubris of human misuse requires immense courage, along with safe and supportive spaces where healing can begin. Survivors need not only that safety but also the presence of trusted, compassionate guides—people trained to help them redefine spirituality and authority in ways that empower rather than harm.
In this work, I am keenly aware of the tension I hold within myself: As a chaplain, I often represent both the institution that has caused immense pain and the possibility of a renewed, healing relationship with the Divine. I seek to embody a healthy spirituality as a model of hope for those still yearning for a spirituality that feels liberative, life-giving, and connecting. Holding that dual role reminds me that healing requires not erasing the past, but naming it honestly and then reshaping it with gentleness, patience, and hope.
📖 Reflection
- What words or phrases from your religious upbringing still echo in your mind?
- How do those words affect the way you see yourself today?
- Where in your life do you still long for connection with the Sacred?
🌿 Practice
Find a quiet space. Place a hand on your heart and take three deep, slow breaths. Silently repeat:
“I am worthy. I am loved. I am safe.”
Notice how your body responds.
✨ Coming Next in the Series
In Part Two: The Loss and the Longing, you’ll meet a courageous woman who left her high-demand religious system in search of liberation. Her story shines a light on the grief and hope that often follow religious trauma.
🌿 A Gentle Invitation
If you’re navigating your own journey of healing from religious trauma and long for safe, compassionate support, I’d be honored to walk with you. Learn more or schedule a session with Chaplain Brynn White.
The Outpatient Chaplain 
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