Yes, religious trauma is a real thing

 Evangelicals naturally have a hard time believing that growing up in their church could have been, in itself, traumatizing. After all, they think, I wasn't traumatized by the experience, I ENJOYED it, what's this other person talking about? Sure, some people are abused by clergy and that's horrific, but most clergy aren't raping kids, so why do all these Exvangelicals keep complaining that the place I love most was the source of deep pain for them?


Well, here's the quiz that often gets used to measure, in as standardized a way as is currently possible, how much childhood trauma a person experienced: Take The ACES Quiz - American SPCC


The ACEs (Adverse Childhood Experiences) quiz asks ten questions. The more you answer "yes", the more traumatic events you experienced and the higher odds that it's still affecting your mental and physical health today.


Now, for those of us who were really COMMITTED to Evangelical Christianity, God was a second (or even first) father. Our pastor was a parent. Our church community was a parent.


So, if you take these questions and substitute the word "church" or "god" or "minister" for the word "parent", see what happens...

Before your 18th birthday:

#1. Did your god/church/minister often or very often… a) Swear at you, insult you, put you down, or humiliate you? or b) Act in a way that made you afraid that you might be physically hurt?

Did they tell me I was a wretched sinner who had nothing good within me except what my god put there? Did they tell me I deserved to be thrown out of my heavenly father's presence forever because I'd hurt him so badly by... being human... and the only reason I didn't get what I deserved was how much my heavenly father loved me? Did they make me afraid that I would be thrown body and soul into a lake of fire to be tortured for all time? Why yes... yes they did. One point.

#4. Did you often or very often feel that … a) Your god didn't love you or think you were important or special? or b) Your church family didn’t look out for each other, feel close to each other, or support each other?

Did they tell me that the sign I had been baptized in the Holy Spirit would be that I would speak in other tongues, have my body and mind so filled with my god that he would be in control of them... and then when it didn't happen tell me I needed to have more faith or be more patient or pray more? Did that send the message that my god didn't love me, when as far as I could tell he was baptizing every one of hundreds of other kids at the church camp altar call but not me? Did the church family turn on anyone who didn't toe the line on some point of doctrine or behavior (which included any failure to swallow Republican politics whole?) Why yes... yes they did. Two points.

#5. Did you often or very often feel that … a) You didn’t have enough to eat, had to wear dirty clothes, and had no one to protect you? or b) Your god was too drunk or high to take care of you or take you to the doctor if you needed it?

Did I often feel that the god who was supposed to protect me, wouldn't? After he kept letting awful things happen to me, and to people I cared about, over and over and over? Did I often feel that Jehovah Rapha (there was even a whole song about this aspect of my god, "the lord our healer") was supposed to heal my infirmities and those of the people I cared about like he promised, and then wonder why he didn't? Why yes... yes I did. Three points.

#6. Were your parents ever separated or divorced?

Was my heavenly father absent, and did he leave me alone with mother church? Why yes... yes he was and yes he did. And were mother church and heavenly father on speaking terms? Absolutely not. Sounds like a divorce to me. Four points.

Four points on that scale is enough to cause lifelong detrimental effects on physical and mental health.

And I experienced the minimum amount of religious trauma possible. I was the youth group's golden child, I was well-liked by dozens of friends and hundreds of acquaintances in the church, I was greeted with smiles and hugs every time I showed up. 

I wasn't a teenaged mom being shamed for getting pregnant and shamed MORE for considering abortion.

I wasn't a girl getting told my body was a stumbling block for adult men just for existing.

I wasn't a gay boy or trans girl being told I deserved extra-hot hellfire for "choosing" something that isn't in fact a choice.

I wasn't an addict being told I was sinning rather than in need of help and treatment.

I wasn't a "sinner" - meaning I didn't smoke, drink, or have sex.

I wasn't (visibly) struggling with any neurological disorder or mental illness, which members of that church would often conflate with demonic possession. Seriously - on one youth group trip a girl with epilepsy had a seizure, and instead of calling 911 everyone kept trying to cast demons out of her.

I was one of the people the community embraced and encouraged, rather than rejected. I didn't get the trauma of being the one sheep that the 99 wouldn't associate with. Hell, a lot of my fellow sheep looked to me with admiration for my devotion to the shepherd. I was, like, one of the favorite sheep.

A LOT of Evangelical kids weren't so lucky.


And I was never groomed for sexual abuse by church leaders or volunteers.

A LOT of Evangelical kids weren't so lucky.


So, to sum up:

The bare MINIMUM ACEs score for any Evangelical kid who really believed what they were being taught is enough to have lifelong effects. And LOTS of Evangelical kids got much higher scores than that from their church experiences.

By every meaningful clinical definition of trauma, growing up Evangelical was - and is - traumatizing.

Don't kid yourself that it wasn't.






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