Why We Follow Leaders So Easily And How to Break the Pattern of Being a Sheep
There’s a conversation I’ve been wanting to have - one that feels overdue, uncomfortable, and necessary. Many of us who grew up in Christian fundamentalism or high‑control religious environments are doing the hard work of questioning, researching, and analyzing what we were taught. We’re trying to understand what we believe now, what we want to keep, and what we need to release. And in that process, something predictable happens: we look for someone else to tell us what’s true.
We seek a new teacher, a new theologian, a new “safe” pastor, a deconstruction coach, an ex-evangelical influencer or simply new voices to replace the old ones. We want someone to help us make sense of the noise in our hearts and minds. Someone to reassure us that we’re not going to get it wrong. Someone to give us permission to think differently.
But that instinct didn’t come from nowhere. It was formed in us and conditioned into us. Reinforced over and over again until it felt like the only way to be a faithful human.
The Christianity that many of us inherited taught us to distrust ourselves. That we are inherently misguided, foolish, evil, have deceitful hearts or are naïve. That we need someone else, someone “above” us, to tell us what’s right, what’s true, and what God supposedly wants from us. And if we dared to step outside that structure, we were told we’d wander off cliffs, fall into deception, or destroy our lives.
For much of church history, especially in the Middle Ages, ordinary people had limited direct access to Scripture. Bibles were rare, expensive, often chained in churches to prevent theft, and usually read in Latin by clergy. Interpretation flowed from the pulpit down, and the message was abundantly clear: Church leaders were the gatekeepers of what God said. The ‘common believer’ was often treated as too uneducated or unqualified to read and interpret the Bible for themselves. This practice has clearly changed over time – we can now even get Bibles for free at many thrift stores, written in our own language. But, what hasn’t changed is the apparent God-breathed exclusivity given to church leaders to interpret, enforce and teach from the Scriptures.
This is not part of a healthy system. But it is part of a very effective one.
The Sheep Story We Were Given
Most of us can quote the metaphors by heart: We are sheep. God is the shepherd. Pastors are under‑shepherds. Sheep wander. Sheep get lost. Sheep need guidance.
But in many churches, that metaphor was weaponized. Instead of being a poetic image of divine care, it became a justification for human control. Leaders used it to reinforce hierarchy, obedience, and dependence. The message was clear: You cannot trust yourself. You must trust us.
We were told:
You need covering.
You need accountability.
You need spiritual authority.
You need someone to interpret Scripture for you.
You need someone to tell you when you’re wrong.
And if we questioned any of that, the response was predictable: See? That’s exactly what a rebellious sheep would do.
The metaphor became a corral.
How Conditioning Works in Religious Systems
High-control religious environments don’t usually start with overt coercion. They open by providing a community that begins shaping your instincts. They train you to doubt your own perceptions, minimize your own intuition, and outsource your discernment to someone else.
Over time, this conditioning becomes second nature:
You learn to check your thoughts against what a leader would say.
You learn to silence your discomfort if it contradicts the group.
You learn to fear your own questions.
You learn to assume someone else knows better than you.
And because this conditioning is framed as spiritual maturity, you don’t even realize it’s happening. You think you’re being faithful. You think you’re being humble. You think you’re being obedient…learning…growing…doing the right thing.
But what you’re actually doing is surrendering your agency.
Not Everyone Is Trying to Control You - But the System Still Does
Not every pastor, parent, mentor, influencer or leader is intentionally conditioning you to be a follower. Not everyone wants to control you. Many people genuinely believe they are helping, protecting, or guiding you in the best way they know how.
But intention doesn’t erase impact.
There is a system - a long‑standing, deeply embedded religious framework - that people buy into without fully understanding what it demands or how it shapes them. A system that rewards compliance, discourages critical thinking, and normalizes hierarchy. A system that trains people to trust authority more than their own lived experience, intuition or decisions. A system that quietly reinforces the idea that questioning is dangerous and obedience is holy.
People participate in that system because it’s familiar, because it’s what they were taught, because it feels safe, or because they’ve never been given another model. And because of what we’ve lived through in the past, this either feels normal or appears radically different. But the system still forms us, still limits us, still teaches us to distrust ourselves in the name of faithfulness.
Recognizing that distinction, between individual intent and systemic impact, is part of healing. It allows us to name the harm without demonizing every person who played a role in it. This also does not excuse or minimize harm that‘s been done, no matter the intention.
The Fear of Getting It Wrong
One of the most powerful tools of religious conditioning is fear, specifically, the fear of being wrong. Many of us were taught that a wrong belief could lead to catastrophic consequences: divine punishment, relational rejection, eternal suffering, or the unraveling of our entire identity.
When the stakes are that high, of course, we cling to authority figures. Of course, we look for someone to tell us the “right” answer. Of course, we panic when we don’t know what to believe.
Fear makes us compliant. Fear makes us dependent. Fear makes us easy to control. And fear can also cripple or hold us back.
Here’s an interesting connection: Certainty arrives after fear. It’s how we cope with or make sense of things. Since we are so afraid of believing wrong, going to Hell, sinning, being drawn away by Satan or our own lusts, plus whatever other concerns the fear-based beliefs have given us, we grasp for anything that helps us feel safe again. And that often is certainty.
Certainty gives us our feet back, some courage again, a moral high ground and purpose. But certainty is not faith. Faith requires an element of doubt or questions, or it’s not faith. Faith that can’t survive questions was never faith, it was fear dressed up as certainty.
The Myth of the Helpless Believer
The idea that humans are incapable of making wise, thoughtful, ethical decisions without a religious authority is not a theological truth; it’s a control tactic. It keeps people from trusting their own minds, bodies, and experiences. It keeps them from developing critical thinking. It keeps them from recognizing or calling out abuse.
And it keeps them from leaving.
Because if you’ve been told your whole life that you’re a helpless or untrustworthy sheep, then the idea of stepping outside the pen feels terrifying. Even if the corral is hurting you. Even if the shepherd is harming you. Even if the system is crushing you.
You stay because you’ve been taught that you can’t survive without it.
Reclaimation
Here’s something many of us were never told: You are not a helpless sheep. You are a human being designed with a mind, a conscience, a body and the capacity for wisdom. You can learn, discern, evaluate and choose. You have the right to question. You have the right to walk away. You have the right to trust yourself.
Reclaiming your inner compass, instinct, natural design or making spiritual choices for yourself (whatever you want to call it) is not rebellion. It’s healing. It’s what healthy spirituality or life looks like.
And it begins with small, brave steps:
Listening to your discomfort instead of silencing it.
Asking questions without apologizing.
Allowing yourself to explore ideas outside your tradition.
Noticing when fear is driving your decisions.
Recognizing that disagreement is not a danger.
Letting yourself imagine a faith or a life beyond the boundaries you were given.
This is not about rejecting community or wisdom. It’s about rejecting control.
So, as you unravel hurts, harm and happenings from your past, remember this: You don’t have to follow a leader. You’ve been given everything you need to heal and create a beautiful future. You just have to claim and practice it.
Note: This isn’t a call to reject learning from others. It’s an invitation to notice the reflex you may have been taught…the instinct to follow, to defer, to assume that only a spiritual leader or authority can be trusted with truth. Many of us were conditioned to let others define what we “should” believe, often at the expense of our own inner wisdom.
Unlearning that reflex takes time. It can feel strange, even wrong, simply because it’s unfamiliar. But it’s part of reclaiming your spiritual autonomy and agency.
And remember: Spiritual leaders are human beings, not infallible guides or shepherds. Their insights can be valuable, but they are not a substitute for your own discernment. You have a direct line to God – there’s no middle-man, hierarchy or authority umbrella system.
This article is not intended to treat or diagnose any condition.
Rebekah is not a licensed therapist or clinician. Any thoughts, opinions or resources given on this site are strictly her own observation and insights based on personal experiences and study. It should in no way take the place of professional assistance.