Healing from Religious Control and Abuse

Faith can be one of the most meaningful parts of life. It can give you belonging, purpose, and peace. But when religion is used to control, shame, or silence you, it stops being sacred and it becomes a manipulative weapon.

If you’ve ever felt trapped, afraid, or small in a religious setting, you’re not imagining it. What you went through has a name, and it matters.

What Religious Control and Abuse Looks Like

Religious control and abuse happen when people use faith to dominate or manipulate others. It can come from a pastor, parent, partner, teacher, or entire community. It often hides under words like “obedience,” “submission,” or “discipline.”

Here are some signs you might have experienced it:

• You were taught to obey leaders without question, or to never question religious texts or try to formulate your own understanding of your faith.

• You were told doubt or disagreement meant rebellion or sin.

• You were punished or shamed for normal human feelings: anger, curiosity, sexuality, or sadness.

• You were isolated from people or information outside your group, or taught that anyone outside your faith was to be avoided, fought or feared.

• You were made to feel that leaving  your faith or your denomination meant betraying God.

• You were taught that having challenges or struggles in your life means that you are not “right” with God or your faith is not strong enough.

  
  

At its core, religious abuse replaces love with fear,

and exchanges belonging with control.

Why It’s a Form of Relational Trauma

Religious abuse doesn’t just happen in your mind- it happens in your relationships. That’s why it’s called relational trauma.

Relational trauma happens when someone you trust- someone who’s supposed to care for you uses that trust to harm or control you. In religious settings, this betrayal goes even deeper because it’s tied to your connection with the divine.

When you’re told that God’s love depends on your obedience, you learn to doubt your own worth. When every mistake feels like a spiritual failure, you stop feeling safe in your own skin.

This kind of trauma can leave lasting marks. You might struggle to trust people, question every decision, or carry a quiet sense of guilt that never goes away. That’s not weakness- it’s your nervous system trying to keep you safe after being betrayed by those who claimed to speak for God.

The Lingering Impact

Religious trauma can show up in all kinds of ways, sometimes long after you’ve left the environment. You might notice:

• Constant guilt or fear, even when you haven’t done anything wrong.

• Difficulty trusting others or yourself.

• Anxiety around authority figures or spiritual spaces.

• Shame about your body, emotions, or desires.

• Feeling lost or disconnected from meaning.

• Grief for the community, family, or faith you lost.

  
  

These reactions make sense. You were conditioned to believe your safety, worth, and belonging depended on obedience. Leaving that behind takes strength, not failure.

No Religion is Off-Limits

There are some religions that have made national headlines, and stories that have caused media uproar. From child brides and sister wives, to male and female mutilation and forced isolation, religious abuse is not relegated to these extreme stories alone. It can happen in ANY faith community, at any time. It can come from any person or group of people. Not all religious abuse is doled out through cults (although much can be said about cults).

Some small groups or people may have been helpful or supportive at first- helping us to deepen our faith or picking us up when we were at our lowest. The abuse can develop gradually, over long periods of time so that we find ourselves questioning if it is actually abuse. Our tendency to self-blame or internalize can make identifying this type of abuse even more challenging.

These experiences can occur between just two people within a larger religious community- a parent or caregiver to child, a sibling relationship, or friend to friend. Although the larger context abuse does occur, we cannot ignore growing up in a home where we felt we were not allowed to form our own spiritual identity. We should not brush a friend's behavior under the rug when they hint that perhaps our chronic illness is because we are hiding some secret sin, or maybe we need to "get right with God" before he will bless our marriage or heal our struggling financial situation, child or what have you. These relational patterns are manipulative, hurtful, and lack compassion.

Ways to Begin Healing

You don’t have to stay stuck in the fear and confusion that control created. Healing is absolutely possible, and it starts small—one honest step at a time.

1. Find Safe Support

If possible, connect with a therapist who understands religious or spiritual trauma. Look for words like “trauma-informed” or “religious trauma recovery.” If therapy isn’t accessible, online support groups and survivor spaces can also help you feel seen and less alone.

2. Reconnect with Your Body

Years of shame and control can leave you feeling numb or detached from yourself. Gentle practices like walking, stretching, deep breathing, or simply resting can help your body relearn that it’s safe to exist as you are.

3. Rebuild Community

You deserve connection that isn’t based on control or fear. Whether it’s friends, online spaces, or new spiritual circles, look for people who respect your boundaries and celebrate your growth.

4. Redefine Meaning

You get to decide what spirituality, or none at all, means to you now. Healing doesn’t require rejecting everything or clinging to old beliefs. It’s about finding what feels real and safe for you.

5. Be Kind to the Version of You Who Survived

The part of you that obeyed, stayed, or believed was trying to protect you. You didn’t fail, you just adapted. Healing begins when you replace self-blame with compassion.

A Final Word

Religious control and abuse aren’t just “bad experiences.” They’re real forms of trauma. But they don’t define you. You have every right to question, to leave, to rebuild, and to trust yourself again. Healing may take time, but freedom is not a sin and peace isn’t something you have to earn.