Warning this is a heavy post. I’m finally processing my history and feelings around why I left and how it has affected me throughout my daily life since.
As many of you know 8 years ago I walked away from the religion that had been the very epicenter of my life. 18 years of growing up in the church and trying to be the best. While I have finally found a home and family in St. Thomas, in order to properly begin to heal I want to tell my story. There are a bunch of factors that inspired this decision, but it really is about finally accepting that my experiences and my feelings about them are valid.
I have always supported and believed that people who have experienced abuse in any form have triggers. I convinced myself that I didn’t have any triggers because I had never been abused. Turns out I was super wrong. For context, I’m part of a discord that discusses theology, our personal faith, and other Biblical concepts. Mom is sort of the defacto teacher as the oldest member with the credentials that validate her position as a biblical studies leader. She posted a rather straightforward simple question, “what are your feelings on female pastors?” Feelings is a key word I think in what happened after the question was posed.
A friend responded in a rather traditional manner by quoting 1 Timothy chapter 2. Now it is a pretty typical answer. However my reaction was pretty extreme, in private. It felt as though I was a kid again, having this hammered into my skull. I could hear the voices telling me I’m not supposed to speak up, speak out, question, or most importantly reach for a position of authority within the church. I could hear the criticisms, and harsh questions about why can’t I just conform and be like everyone else? I relived all the inner turmoil I felt for years but namely in my teens. The final thing I heard in my mind was the moment the minister at my childhood church told me changing denominations would lead me down the road to hell, I wanted to go to a Methodist church. A Methodist church with a female pastor. It took me hours to calm down and not want to chew out my friend, a man who is like a brother to me.
Once I calmed down I was shocked when I realized that I had experienced a trigger episode. Suddenly the notation on my psychological evaluation regarding a possibility of trauma that Iay have experienced causing some behaviors I have made sense. I hadn’t believed it before, in fact I claimed it wasn’t true that they were just assholes, and I was blowing my treatment and feelings out of proportion. Now though I can admit that I have trauma stemming from emotional abuse from leaders within the church I grew up in, leaders who were all men. I understood that it was not okay for them to have treated me as if my physical and mental illnesses were made up, and that my gender dictated how I should live my life as a “Christian woman.” I understood that my reactions and feelings really were valid.
It was the being told I would go to hell simply for going to a Methodist church that finally drove me away. Looking back though it had been a long time coming. Every little disparaging comment, every put down, every shut up, every word that went against my morals and beliefs, they built up until I just couldn’t take anymore. I left because I felt worthless, unloved, and absolutely rejected.
After that I decided if I was going to hell anyway what did it matter what I believed? I have no regrets from my time away as some people do when they leave and come back. I learned a lot in those years and developed my own sense of right and wrong. I learned to see people beyond their “failings.” I learned love has no rules or restrictions.
I graduated from Agnes a completely different person. Outwardly I was confident and firm in what I believed. Internally however I never managed to silence the voices that were a major source my insecurities. I still haven’t but I think it’s getting easier. I’m learning to set boundaries and not accept being treated the way I was as a child.
I certainly want to note that my parents have never been anything but supportive of my decisions. They have often stepped in defending me against the cruelty when they could.
Fast forward to today and it’s actually semi amusing to me that I have returned to a faith I swore never to go near again. The story is also pretty funny as it is as strange as I am. I got bored one day, exceedingly bored. In my boredom I decided to do a deep dive into the nuanced differences between the Episcopal Church, the Anglican Church, and the Church of England. I don’t even know why I went down that rabbit hole. Somehow I found St. Thomas amidst all the research. I had a gut feeling that I should just watch a service and see if they were as open, accepting, and similar to my beliefs as they appeared. I joined not too long after and they’ve become my family and a home for me. They live out what they claim to believe, not that the one I grew up in didn’t, but what they believe is what I believed even when I was opposed to the religion.
My priest and my church family are really beginning to heal my heart. I feel safe with them and overwhelmingly loved.
It was hate, cruelty, and judgemental behaviors that drove me away and broke not just my heart but my soul. So I think it is appropriate that it has been love, understanding, and acceptance that brought me back. I’m beginning to have the strength to know the voices plaguing me are wrong. I’ve begun to set boundaries and if the red flags go up I walk away. I disengage and I hate to say it but I’m learning it is okay to burn bridges. It is okay to speak out on behalf of myself as much as I do for others. It’s a long road ahead and as I saw yesterday I will probably still struggle sometimes. Now that I recognize the truth of the situation I hopefully can avoid having such extreme reactions to some triggers.
I got the matches ready for you