When You’ve Left a High-Control Religion and Don’t Know Who You Are Anymore

Figuring out who you are and what you believe in can feel exhilarating in theory – and completely destabilizing in practice. Especially if you grew up in a high-control religious environment, where every decision once came pre-approved by someone else’s version of right and wrong.

For many people leaving that world, it’s not just about changing beliefs – it’s about realizing you never really had full ownership of your life. What you wore, what music you listened to, who you dated, what you believed about “goodness” – those weren’t choices; they were permissions. And once those rules are gone, even small decisions (“Do I want to celebrate my birthday?” “Can I enjoy this song?”) can suddenly feel like moral dilemmas.

If that’s where you are, you’re not broken or behind. You’re in the tender middle of something profound: re-learning how to belong to yourself.

1. Start by Letting the Questions Be Okay

You might feel waves of guilt, fear, or even shame just for questioning what you were taught. That’s not weakness – that’s conditioning doing its job. High-control systems often equate curiosity with rebellion, so the first step is simply noticing that guilt without obeying it.

Think of questioning not as tearing down, but as renovating – peeling back old wallpaper so you can see what’s underneath.

Concrete ways to start:  • Create a private “question notebook” – digital or handwritten – where you collect your doubts, curiosities, and half-formed thoughts. No conclusions required. 

• Try using a gentle prompt like, “What if this belief wasn’t about sin – what might it be about instead?”  • When guilt shows up, name it: “This is an old reflex, not a warning.” That simple sentence can start separating your voice from the one that used to police it.

2. Reintroduce Yourself to Your Own Interests

When every hobby or activity used to come with moral fine print, it’s normal to have no idea what you actually enjoy. Try this: make a “things I might secretly like” list – no editing, no justification. Maybe it’s astrology, rock climbing, reading fantasy novels, or dancing in your kitchen to Beyoncé.

Your goal isn’t to replace one identity with another; it’s to stretch the part of you that chooses. Start small, go slow, and pay attention to what feels alive rather than what feels “approved.”

Concrete ways to start: 

• Visit a local bookstore or library and browse sections you once avoided. Notice what titles you’re drawn to without self-editing. 

• Pick one tiny thing each week that used to feel “off-limits” – a genre of music, a holiday, a clothing choice – and give yourself permission to try it. 

• Keep a running “spark list” of what energizes you or makes you curious. Don’t worry if it’s inconsistent or random. Curiosity is data.

3. Expect (and Name) the Grief

Grief shows up in strange ways when you leave a faith community. You might miss the certainty, the rituals, or even the people who no longer understand you. It can feel confusing to mourn something that also hurt you – but that complexity is grief.

Let yourself name the losses: the predictability, the belonging, the sense of moral clarity. They were real. So is the relief you might feel in the same breath. Both can exist.

You’re not just grieving a system – you’re grieving the self you might have been if you’d had more freedom sooner.

Concrete ways to start: 

• Write a “letter to what I’m losing” – not to send, but to externalize your feelings. It might begin, “Dear certainty…” or “Dear younger me who tried so hard to be good…” 

• Create small rituals of release: light a candle, plant something, play a song that honors both sorrow and relief. Rituals don’t have to be religious to be sacred. 

• Connect with others who understand this kind of loss; online spaces like Journey Free or podcasts like The Life After can help you feel less alone.

4. Rebuild Safety and Self-Trust

When you’ve been taught that every right answer came from outside yourself, trusting your own instincts can feel… dangerous. Start with micro-decisions: what to eat, how to spend your Sunday, what music to play when no one’s listening. Notice that the world doesn’t fall apart when you choose for yourself.

Therapy can help you rewrite that internal rulebook – the one that says “I can’t be trusted.” You can. You just need practice.

Concrete ways to start: 

• Use the phrase “I’m experimenting” instead of “I’m deciding.” It keeps the stakes lower and allows curiosity to lead. 

• Keep a small “proof of safety” list – moments when you trusted your gut and it went fine (or even well). Review it when doubt creeps in. 

• Try somatic grounding: before making a choice, take a slow breath and ask, “Does my body feel tight or open?” Your body often knows before your mind catches up.

5. Get Support That Gets It

Healing from religious trauma isn’t about throwing away faith; it’s about reclaiming choice. A trauma-informed therapist familiar with high-control systems can help you trace how fear and guilt have wired themselves into your nervous system – and slowly, kindly, help you unlearn them.

If you’re looking for community, writers like Nate Postlethwait and Marlene Winell have done powerful work naming what it means to recover from religious trauma. Listening to others’ stories can remind you that you’re not alone – you’re part of a quiet, brave wave of people learning to trust themselves again.

Concrete ways to start:  • Search for therapists using keywords like “religious trauma,” “spiritual abuse,” or “identity reconstruction.” Directories like Trauma Therapist Network or Inclusive Therapists can be good places to begin.  • Build a small “reclaiming playlist” – songs that remind you of strength, curiosity, or self-ownership. Music can be a surprisingly powerful re-anchoring tool.  • Consider joining or starting a local deconstruction support group; sometimes, healing accelerates when your story is heard out loud.

What This Means for You

Leaving a high-control religion is both a loss and a reclamation. You’re not starting from scratch – you’re starting from truth. The uncertainty you feel right now isn’t a flaw; it’s evidence that your inner compass is waking up after years of being silenced.

You don’t need to have it all figured out. You just need to stay curious, keep choosing small freedoms, and remember: you are allowed to be the authority on your own life.

Sarahbeth Spasojevich, LPC, MEd, MA, MBA, NCC

Licensed Professional Counselor  (VA-0704015620)

Connected Resilience, LLC

For scheduling: (804) 220-0388 (text/phone) 

sarahbeth@connectedresilience.us 

www.connectedresilience.us