When Church Hurt Doesn’t Sound the Alarm (Until It’s Too Late)

I woke up in the middle of the night, unaware my nose had the capacity to be both a snot factory and completely stuffed at the same time.

The night before, I’d spent a lovely evening on our friends’ back porch—peaceful, relaxing… and apparently toxic. The combination of spring pollen and smoke from Canadian wildfires had created an invisible haze I didn’t think twice about at the time.

But by midnight, the damage was clear.

My head pounded.
My throat burned.
And I didn’t even know what to do with my nose.

I reached for allergy meds, Ibuprofen, and the Flonase I only use when things get bad.

The wild part? I never saw it coming.

We Treat the Physical—But What About the Spiritual?

We’ve been taught to treat physical symptoms. We listen to our bodies. We act quickly. We don’t feel shame about needing medicine or relief.

But when the symptoms are emotional—or worse, spiritual—the story changes.

I grew up in the era of “suck it up and get over it.” Emotional wounds were rarely validated. And when those wounds came from religious spaces?

Crickets.

No diagnosis.
No treatment.
Just a whole lot of gaslighting:

• They meant well.

• They’re just doing what God told them.

• It’s God’s will for your life.

  

Chapter 2 of Breathing Again: Naming the Damage of Religious Trauma

In Chapter 2 of Breathing Again, I pull back the curtain on my own experiences with religious trauma.

I name it.
I discuss it.
I walk through the damage it caused in my life—not to wallow in it, but to heal from it.

One of the most common barriers to healing is not recognizing what hurt us in the first place. We excuse it, spiritualize it, or deny it outright.

I recently spoke with someone who insisted they’d never experienced church hurt… only to tell story after story of spiritual abuse, shame, and manipulation at the hands of religious leaders.

They didn’t see it as trauma.
They had been trained not to.

That’s exactly why this chapter exists: to help us learn how to identify the haze before it wrecks us. Or, if it already has—to name it, treat it, and move toward healing.

If You’ve Ever Wondered, “Was That Church Hurt?”—You’re Not Alone

If you’ve found yourself justifying hurtful experiences with phrases like,
“They didn’t mean to...”
“Maybe it was just me…”
“I shouldn’t be so sensitive…”

—this post is for you.

You’re not weak.
You’re not being dramatic.
You’re not imagining things.

And you don’t have to live with the lingering damage of spiritual abuse, religious trauma, or harmful theology.

Naming it is the first step.

Ready to Begin Healing from Religious Trauma?

If your body still tightens when you hear churchy buzzwords…
If your faith feels like a wound instead of a well…
If you’re not sure how to name what happened to you—

👉 Start with Chapter 2 of Breathing Again.

In it, I guide you through the process of identifying spiritual trauma, tracing the impact of damaging theology, and reclaiming your right to heal.

Because healing can’t happen until we name what hurt us.

💬 Have you ever struggled to name spiritual or emotional wounds? Comment below or share this post with someone else navigating their healing journey.