What do you wish you could tell your younger self?

I want to tell my 8-year-old self that kids were mean, and it was ok to feel mad about that-even if the teachers didn’t do anything about it. Little kids suck sometimes, and it isn’t ok.

I would tell my middle school self that she wouldn’t grow anytime soon and ignore the teachers’ conversation about “changes in adolescence.” Her time would come to “bud,” but she was in for a long wait. You might as well continue to run like the wind, unhindered by big breasts.

My high school self and I would have a heart-to-heart about her body, boys and the right to say no. And that what happened at prom was scary, and her heartache that went unnoticed is still felt by me today.

I would want to tell my teenage self that she was looking for safe places to land, to be accepted and loved. Going to church provided a space of belonging at times, but it was also a source of heartache and disappointment. It wasn’t always the safe place her friends and those friendly folks next door promised.

It would be a place that, for decades of early adulthood, left her questioning so much. Harmful practices often overshadow her experiences, which were warm moments of flourishing or freedom. She would be told to deny core emotional experiences and to double down on spiritual disciplines. She would grow weary of the dissonance and feel very alone.

I would tell her she finds herself again even though the story’s most gutwrenching, painful parts were ahead of her. She survives and thrives. I would tell her all of it is worth it, so she would have hope on her worst days.

My Faith Experiences

I mentioned to a loved one that this little piece above was inadvertently cross-posted to one of my other sites, and viewed by people who have closer relationships with me. Some of them know the more intimate details of my story- the hard painful bits. So, I was left to resist clarifying my writing to care for what others might have felt having read my little musing.

I anticipated the invalidation of messages like “not all churches” or “ya, but…hurt people hurt people,” or…” humans in churches are all on personal journeys.”

I also imagined the genuine concern: “I don’t know all your story, but I feel for you,” or the response offering- “You have shown how strong you are in the face of suffering.” On some level, with different words, all these comments were expressed.

I wanted to open the door to reflect and share what we wish we could tell our younger selves. Unfortunately, few folks understood the assignment. That’s on me, I wasn’t very clear.

What I realized was emerging from this experience is this piece of writing. I have marinated in these thoughts for some time. They are not all perfectly flushed out, but I invite you to read along as I map out some of my thoughts and experiences within faith communities. Some are personal and anecdotal; some are therapeutic professional perspectives.

My faith experiences have shaped how I see the church. Your historical experiences will do the same. I exist in those spaces differently today than I did when I was younger. I am braver and more assured of who I am and who I am not. I have lived, loved and done a lot of therapeutic work personally and, as mentioned earlier, I do this work professionally. Even more specifically, I work with folks who have spiritual trauma experiences.

Also, my core healing experiences did not happen within church walls.

These are essential details to know as you read to help build a foundation that may bridge some understanding and soften any defenses that might get activated as you read.

Curiosity in the Church

I have lovely relationships with people in our local church and faith communities abroad. Historically, I have had meaningful, rich experiences alongside very damaging ones. There are religious structures and systems that I question, and I give myself full permission to be curious now in ways I never felt able to before.

Believing I have a right to be curious is liberating. Some religious systems tend to be wary of curiosity, making exploring questions about faith difficult.

Gosh, I can almost feel my conservative Christian friends and family leaning in to challenge me- “Like, what about that program we offer at our church where we gather and explore faith questions? Isn’t that exactly what you mean about curiosity and being able to ask questions?”

I’m so glad you asked.

It doesn’t come as a surprise that I find programs that look a lot like group therapy harmful. Many folks have gone through some of these courses and reported helpful revelations. Undoing some of the aloneness has been good. However, I cannot overstate how concerning it is that some church-offered courses resemble group therapy through a spiritual lens, yet are led by individuals with little to no trauma-informed education or training.

In my experience, it is retraumatizing for many and spiritually bypasses the scientific neuroscience behind trauma and early primary attachment systems that impact adult behaviour and relationships.

Our most private, traumatic, hidden, embarrassing, shameful ways of behaving deserve attention from practitioners with the skills and commitment to hold your narratives with dignity, care and confidentiality.

Identifying & Dismantling Rigidity

Personal, relational experiences and broader religious traditions shape our encounters within church communities. My older self knows now that God is not at all threatened by my curiosity, questioning, or even the anger I feel about some more rigid religious traditions and practices.

I have heard the stories of leaders showing little regard for how their condescending, offputting, dismissive speaking methods cause harm. If confronted, they may look back and regret asserting their power in such unkind ways, or maybe not. Some personalities and character traits endure even through many years of spiritual discipline. Not everyone develops skills like curiosity or managing defensive responses.

This is true of all relationships we have with people in positions of power- nothing here is specific to a church or even one church in particular. This leads us into being curious about the mechanisms for personal growth and change. What could that look like if we are hoping for changes, personal growth or even spiritual growth (not a linear process)?

Processes of Change

Look with me at the processes of emotional change through a wider lens.

We won’t find common ground if we believe spiritual changes occur without impacting emotional states, resulting in visible behaviour changes. Focusing solely on spiritual discipline and hoping for a nervous system change response will be a long wait.

For example, we cannot pray our way out of anxiety. You might have a momentary calm, but if you want lasting changes in regulating your nervous system and the activation of this fear response in your body, I suggest you look at therapy rather than relying on prayer as your management strategy. You are not doing prayer wrong. It has more to do with how your nervous system responds to perceptions of threat in your environment. And it is expected to feel activated.

A Compelling Thought About Transformation

The idea of being transformed by the life-changing power of Jesus Christ is compelling, but it is not guaranteed. I am old enough to see that becoming “more Christlike” is undefinable and cannot be correlated to the quantity or quality of spiritual discipline (prayer, Bible study, or church attendance).

This year is my 55th year around the sun. I have known some Christian folks for close to 30 adult years. Some of them are the same in all ways- unchanged. And this is neither good nor bad. Others have gone on personal journeys of growth and change.

I still notice those character traits for those who were passive-aggressive communicators or quick to express their displeasure. Some of those personality expressions do not change all that much. The folks who were soft, gentle, kind, generous, to begin with, still emanated in those ways, too. And both groups of folks are spiritually disciplined. Faith practices alone do not necessarily translate to personal growth or changes in moral character.

I notice areas in my life that have shifted in good ways. I would expect you to know things about yourself that have shifted over the years, whether or not you read your bible every day or go to therapy every week.

I have more resources to manage emotional activation. Others’ opinions disrupt me less and less. I can assert myself firmly and with kindness. I am less protective and fearful that something terrible will happen. These are skills of emotional regulation. I have healed some of the trauma that lives inside my body.

Whether you have done so explicitly or not, my guess is that you might be able to name some shifts in your experiences.Are there folks who are transformed and unrecognizable, having left lives of addiction or traumatic historical events, having done so purely through spiritual disciplines? Possibly.

Those experiences, for me, would be the outliers—extreme examples. More likely, how we see ourselves in the world and how we feel about ourselves are core beliefs that remain stable unless challenged through deep internal processing.

Please hear this: spiritual practices that bring settling, encouragement, understanding and even a sense of direction in your day or life are lovely. Feeling a profound sense of communion with God or hearing His voice is desirable.

What has happened, in my experience, is folks try and do all the things, read scripture, do devotions, pray, go to women’s or men’s groups, join life groups, and end up in an office like mine because they are still suffering. But now they also have this horrible self-blame that they are not doing their faith walk well.

Business or Family?

One big lie I reject is that my acceptance, love, and relationships with certain people some churches or Christians reject threaten my faith. Folks who lead with, “The Bible says so, therefore it is true,” lean towards avoiding and oversimplifying complex issues. A response like this impairs the likelihood of deeper understanding and dialogue. The building blocks of curiosity are judgment-free and open. One of my core beliefs is that humans deserve to be known authentically and with dignity.

We tend to have these core beliefs, our internal narrative about how the world works and how we work in this world. Churches also have these core beliefs and develop spiritual practices and programs that align with these values to serve those who attend their services.

Let’s consider the church as a business, not just the lovely presentation of the church as a family. What is the job or role of the church? To bring people into the community to live spiritually centered lives and become more like Jesus. And to that end, to grow the church.

So for the church to be profitable, either in number of members, or financially, we have to invite folks to faith and keep folks in their seats. Then, it stands to reason why we don’t challenge thinking or beliefs too quickly- questioning the “rules” or “traditions” may destabilize and negatively impact attendance. This is partly why shifts in core values, such as moving towards an egalitarian approach welcoming women to pulpits, took such a long time. Church splits occur when leadership moves the church in a direction members are unwilling to follow.

It is a dance with many nuances to the choreography. I have sat through sermons on tithing, sin, women, and divorcewhere the pastor walks a fine, neutral (biblically) focused exposition. I have heard other teachers take more explicitly hard-lined interpretations of biblical principles that crash painfully hard on the listener’s ears.

You can typically find a page on a church’s website listing its core values. These act like the standards of church practice or guard rails you can expect to follow if you join that community. It makes sense that core statements of belief are the framework that guides decisions about church practices.

Initially, this can feel very safe, especially if you come to find a church home with the understanding that church is a family. You know what to expect. Who doesn’t love that? But it gets tricky when you (I) notice teaching that subtly contradicts some of the “come as you are” messaging.

Are All Welcome?

Maybe this is too much pressure on the traditional system, but do we say we are welcoming LGBTQ+ folks in our churches because we hope they will become straight and gender-conforming while they participate in our programming?

Nothing about that statement feels good or right to me. The LGBTQ+ folks, I know, would, understandably, protest the implication arising from those thoughts. And I would be right there, too, feeling disgusted by that agenda.

Am I revealing too much of my pessimism, or that I am a liberal, woke ally? Yes, probably.

Maybe there isn’t an agenda like that when churches say, “All are welcome.” But when folks in the LGBTQ+ community find the road blocked in some areas of their churches, I have to wonder about the why behind the restrictions.

Neighbourhood church communities have notoriously complex relationships with inclusivity and the idea that all are welcome. And I know many of you go to very welcoming places of worship for all people, regardless of identity or sexual orientation. I so love that for you. What about if you are still looking for a community of faith?

Go to any church website and notice its statements of beliefs, core values, or language used for that community. “We believe” statements are good to pay attention to when choosing a church. There will be slight and sometimes significant differences across church denominations—variations of theology mostly- and how the church practices inclusivity will be evident.

You will either find you belong or discover ways you will be left witnessing from the edges.

Community standards or statements of belief and being asked to sign them never resonated with me. The spiritual bypassing tactics used to validate judgment and control behaviour around sexual identity and conforming to purity culture no longer hold power over me. I have witnessed the harm these practices have created.

I value justice, am sensitive to power imbalances, and will protect those marginalized and vulnerable. I see these practices as harmful when humans wield and weaponize the word of God to dehumanize or manage the behaviour of others.

It used to be divorced folks. A couple of decades ago, there were plenty of meetings and “prayer” around if divorced “brothers and sisters” could serve in the church. The church laboured over this issue with women in leadership (still ongoing, I know).

Today, we can see how certain ideologies exclude those with different sexual expressions and self-identity, which leaves these folks feeling unseen and not welcome. Maybe these sentiments show up more subtly in our local churches. Still, I believe it is essential to ask what it looks like to care for people, regardless of their sexual orientation and gender identity.

A better question to ask is how do we genuinely care for people who have different sexual orientations and gender identities?

God doesn’t show favouritism. He creates and welcomes. And for me, I stop there. You may get clarity by wrestling theology, but this isn’t the path I have chosen to take.

I welcome people to be human and give them the dignity of being on a life journey related to their spirituality. It costs me nothing and has deeply enriched my life experiences.

I started this piece with what I would say to my younger self. I’m curious about what my 80-year-old self might want to say to me now. I hope my older self tells me that it no longer matters who you love or how you identify yourself, and in the future, we no longer need to defend ourselves to be fully immersed in a church community and do life together.