Life

When I was about twenty, a friend dubbed me "Baptist Girl." This nickname wasn't just about the church I attended; it encapsulated my entire lifestyle.

I was the epitome of a "good Christian girl," meticulously following every rule and expectation. I looked the part, spoke the language, and walked the walk with unwavering dedication.

Recently, someone gave my husband a bag of Tootsie Roll Pops. I ate one today and suddenly, I was back in Sunday School.

Funny how our minds and nervous systems work. I don't remember why Tootsie Roll Pops and Sunday School are connected, but my body does.

With one taste of that candy and my memory escorted me back to Mrs. Harris* and her less than 5-foot-tall frame, legs swinging as she sat atop some large piece of furniture in the classroom. She died when I was about 10 and it's the first time I remember feeling grief.

Care Bears are part of my Religious Trauma story, so when I found this mug at an estate sale with and the quote, “Love is great for growing things,” it all made healing sense I should get it.

Inside fundamentalist and control based religious environments, love is often mocked. “Those people just believe that LOVE fixes everything...that’s not true...you need Jesus combined with Holy living, to call out sin and to live by these specific Biblical principles…”

One would assume that the church would be a place of acceptance and love, grace and belonging, but instead, many enmeshed within a church culture find it a place, which feeds intense shame. Why is this?

Hey there, friend. Can we talk about something that's been weighing on my heart lately? It's about how love sometimes gets twisted in Christian homes, turning into a tool for control instead of the beautiful, unconditional thing it's meant to be.

You know that feeling when you're a kid, and your mom promises you can go to your best friend's house on Saturday? You're so excited, counting down the days. But then Saturday morning rolls around, and you forget to clean your room on Friday. Suddenly, that play date you've been looking forward to all week? It's gone. Poof. Just like that. "If you can't be responsible at home," they said, "you don't get to go out and have fun."

Did you grow up in a high-demand religion or a cult? Have you ever felt like an outsider to life and couldn’t put into words exactly why? If so, you are not alone and perhaps, what I explain in this article will resonate with you.

One day as I was having a conversation about my childhood (and subsequent religious trauma recovery journey) with a dear friend of mine, Dr. Paulette Bethel, she suddenly said, “Rebekah, you’re a TCK!” This expression was new to me so I asked her to explain.

Parenting is such a wild ride—full of ups, downs, and everything in between. You’ve finally nailed the toddler and elementary years when, wham! You wake up one morning and now have a teenager in your home with those years full of their own challenges, developmental stages and complexities.

When you’re also carrying the weight of your own childhood trauma, parenting can often feel like an even bigger challenge. But here’s the thing: your trauma is not your child’s trauma. In fact, showing our kids how we learn, grow, and tackle tough stuff can be one of the best lessons we can give them.

In this thought-provoking article, we delve into the challenging terrain of communicating deconstruction, faith transition, and religious trauma with family. This is not meant to be a definitive piece, but rather a discussion of some of the obstacles, difficulties, and considerations you may face.

As we navigate these uncharted paths, we may be seen as daring to challenge conventions (heretic) or defying the status quo (rebellious.) Buckle up as we embark on a journey that demands courage and an unwavering commitment to our own soul, conscience and overall health.

Watching Shiny Happy People is observing the first half of my life in what feels like an out of body experience. Internal agony and struggle, mind shifts and identity disruption, loss of people I love, fear and confusion, new experiences and blazing ahead alone, these things have defined my years since becoming aware I had been raised in a cult. It’s what it took for me to leave, learn a new way and forge a life outside the lines of authoritarian control and spiritual abuse.

The Duggar family has long been who I reference when I tell people that I grew up differently from mainstream culture. Dang, even differently from most evangelical culture. “Have you seen the show 19 Kids and Counting? Yes? Well, that’s my background.” It was extreme fundamentalism; we were the radicals.

Religious trauma is a sensitive topic that requires a therapist who is knowledgeable and experienced in addressing the unique challenges that come with it. If you're seeking therapy to overcome religious trauma, it's crucial to ask the right questions to ensure that the therapist is well-equipped to help you. Here are ten insightful questions to ask a therapist to assess their religious trauma competency.