January is Spiritual Abuse Awareness Month: David’s Story and Steps Toward Healing
by David Ruybalid
January is Spiritual Abuse Awareness Month, and I want to share a deeply personal story from Christmas 2008—a moment that brought my experience of religious trauma into sharp focus. This story isn’t just about a triggering event; it’s about what happens inside someone who has endured spiritual abuse, how others misunderstand that response, and what we can do to foster healing for survivors.
A Christmas Church Experience
In December 2008, my family and I visited a small fundamentalist church in a tiny Nebraska town where some of my relatives lived. At the time, I was serving as a worship leader in Boulder and supporting a church plant in Denver, both environments far removed from the high-control dynamics of the fundamentalism I grew up in. It had been five years since I had stepped into a church reminiscent of my childhood, and this one unfortunately fit the description.
As we entered the service, the scene was all too familiar: the congregation dressed in suits, singing hymns, and seated on wooden pews. The preacher delivered his sermon with fervor, pounding the pulpit and presenting a rigid, legalistic blueprint for Christian living. My palms grew clammy, my heart raced, and my breath quickened. Trapped in the middle of the pew with no way to slip out unnoticed, I froze. Staring at the preacher, I felt myself transported back in time, once again the frightened ten-year-old child sitting in a setting just like this.
When I tried to process this experience with family members later, I was met with indifference and dismissal. “It sounds like you just have an ax to grind,” one said. Others seemed to think I was overreacting or being too critical.
The following Sunday, I returned to my home church in Boulder, leading worship for 300–400 people. During the song “In Christ Alone,” the emotions from the previous week overwhelmed me. I broke down in tears and couldn’t finish singing the final verse: “…no guilt in life, no fear in death. This is the power of Christ in me.” I felt alone, misunderstood, and trapped in a tailspin of emotional and physiological responses that I didn’t fully understand at the time.
Understanding Religious Trauma
What I experienced that Christmas wasn’t just a “bad day” or hypersensitivity—it was a trauma response, a physiological and emotional reaction rooted in years of spiritual abuse and high-control religious environments. The church I grew up in emphasized rules, fear, and conformity, often under the guise of faith. I had been abused in multiple ways within that church context while growing up. Though I had physically left that environment, the trauma it caused continued to linger in my nervous system.
Trauma responses like mine, sweaty palms, racing heart, shallow breaths, and freezing, are part of the brain’s fight-flight-freeze mechanism. For survivors of spiritual abuse, similar environments or messages can act as triggers, reactivating the sense of danger and helplessness they once felt. This is not about holding a grudge or being overly critical; it’s about the body doing its best to protect us from perceived harm.
Unfortunately, survivors of spiritual trauma are often misunderstood by those who lack firsthand experience or awareness of its effects. Dismissive remarks like, “You’re being too sensitive,” or, “You just have an ax to grind,” reveal not only a lack of understanding but also reinforce feelings of isolation. While such responses may be common, they are profoundly harmful, reflecting a broader cultural tendency to minimize the impact of trauma, especially when it is intertwined with religion.
Practical Steps for Survivors
If you’ve experienced spiritual abuse, here are some steps that might help when triggers arise.
Recognize the Trigger: When you notice your body reacting, sweating, shallow breathing, or feeling trapped, pause and acknowledge that this is a trauma response. It’s not a sign of weakness; it’s your brain’s way of trying to protect you.
Ground Yourself: Engage in grounding techniques, such as deep breathing, naming objects in the room, or focusing on physical sensations like the texture of your clothing.
These techniques help calm the nervous system.
Seek Safe People: Find someone who will listen without judgment. A trauma-informed counselor, coach, or supportive friend can provide the validation and empathy you need.
Set Boundaries: It’s okay to avoid environments or conversations that trigger your trauma, especially if they’re not necessary or helpful for your healing.
Educate Yourself: Understanding religious trauma and its impact on the brain can empower you to navigate your healing journey. Books, podcasts, and support groups can be invaluable resources.
How Others Can Support Survivors
If you know someone who has experienced spiritual abuse, here’s how you can help:
Listen Without Judgment: Validate their feelings and resist the urge to minimize their experience. Phrases like “That sounds really hard” or “I’m here for you” can make a big difference.
Learn About Religious Trauma: Educate yourself on the dynamics of spiritual abuse and its effects. This will help you understand their responses and support them better. A great place to start is through the Religious Trauma Network
Be Patient: Healing from trauma takes time. Avoid pressuring them to “move on” or “just let it go.”
Create Safe Spaces: Whether in personal relationships or church environments, strive to create spaces where survivors feel seen, heard, and valued without fear of judgment or control.
A Call to Awareness
Will we listen? Will we learn? Will we make space for those carrying the invisible wounds of spiritual trauma? This January, and every day, let’s choose healing, compassion, and understanding.
David Ruybalid is a co-founder of the Religious Trauma Network.
See more from David at davidruybalid.substack.com.
This article is not intended to treat or diagnose any condition. David is not a licensed therapist or clinician. Any advice or opinions given on this site are strictly individual observation and insights based on personal experiences and study. It should in no way take the place of professional assistance.