A Religious Trauma Therapist Stares Down Internalized Shame at…the Library??
Hello readers!
Hopefully the title of this blog post made you chuckle, and made you curious. I thought it was a clever way to introduce a real life experience that happened to me this week, and a way to illustrate just how insidious internalized shame and the doctrine of original sin from high control religion can be in everyday life.
Some of you know that I am an avid reader. Whether it’s fiction, historical fiction, non-fiction, memoir, self-help, biography, psychology, science… you name it, I’m reading it. I’m also an old school reader - meaning, I prefer the feel of physical books and pages over reading a book on a tablet, which means I make frequent trips to our local library to check out stacks of books. You should see my nightstand!!
In fact, one of my favorite emails to get is an email from our library notifying me that a book I have requested has come in and is ready for me to pick up, which is exactly what happened a few days ago. I was so excited to find out that a book I had placed on hold, Scorched Grace by Margot Douaihy (a story about an edgy queer nun who solves crimes!), had come in and was ready for me to pick up. So, I added “swing by library” to my list of afternoon errands that day,
not expecting my religious trauma to be triggered in the process.
Seemed like a reasonable assumption at the time…
I walked into the library and headed to the “Holds” section, found the M-S aisle and scanned for the “P” last names and then for my last name “Parker”, and lo and behold, there was my book. Like magic! As I was thinking about the storyline of this new book and where it was possibly going to take me (I mean, an edgy queer nun who solves crimes!), I headed over to one of the self-checkout stations, placed the book on the counter, and scanned my library card. Immediately a message in red popped up on the screen that said “Your account has been blocked. Please see a staff member.”
“Well that can’t be right,” I thought to myself. As a serial rule follower, I always return everything on time. Surely this was a mistake. I scanned my card again, and the same error message popped up: “Your account has been blocked. Please see a staff member.”
I want to let you in on some of the things that were happening to me internally on a somatic and cognitive level that were invisible to the outside world as I was being confronted with these error messages…
Somatically, my shoulders tensed up, I started holding my breath, my heart rate increased, and I felt a little frozen.
I started looking around hoping no one was seeing the error message on the screen that would indicate to others that I had done something wrong.
I started bracing myself for something bad.
Cognitively, here is where my brain went in those few seconds:
Did I forget to return a book and now it’s overdue?
Do I have overdue books that have racked up fines?
Do I have a lot of fines?
Has my account been flagged for checking out too many books?
Has my account been flagged for checking out too many homoSEXual books?
Are the librarians annoyed with how many books I place on hold every week?
I don’t know what I did but it must have been REALLY BAD!!
I tried my best to collect myself, breathe, and walk casually over to the librarian sitting at the Information counter, and said as nonchalantly as I could (while trying not to panic inside), “Hi, I tried to check out this book, but it said my account has been blocked??”
The librarian (in a very unconcerned manner) said, “Ok, can you scan your card for me here?” and motioned to the scanner at her desk.
I obediently scanned my card, and stood there as she typed in some things on her keyboard. Silence. Mounting internal panic. She typed in some more things on her keyboard and didn’t say anything. More mounting internal panic. I couldn’t take it anymore, so asked, “Can you tell me why my account is blocked?”
“Oh,” she replied. “Every year we have to verify that you still live here. Can you please confirm your address?”
It felt like in the moments between getting the message on the screen about my account being blocked and asking the librarian what was going on, I had been teleported to some alternate universe (a scary, severe, and shaming universe with lots of punishment!), and the librarian’s response had just brought me back down to a normal and reasonable earth.
I’m not sure exactly how I reacted to the librarian’s response because my insides were a little disoriented, but I imagine the security cameras would have shown me laughing, looking relieved (and probably a little sheepish), maybe rolling my eyes at the journey my religious trauma had just taken me on, verbally confirming my address, and leaving happily with my gay book.
As I reflected on my experience that afternoon, I was able to connect the dots on what happened and why it felt so automatic and so familiar. During my time in high control religion, I was indoctrinated with the belief that I was inherently bad. When there was conflict with family members, it was probably because I was being disobedient. When there was conflict in friendships, it was probably because I was being selfish. When I didn’t do as well on an exam as I wanted, it was because I was lazy and didn’t study hard enough. When I got frustrated about something, it was because I was impatient, jealous, or greedy.
Basically, when anything felt bad or uncomfortable, it was because of my sinful nature. I was the problem that needed to be constantly analyzed and fixed.
Fast-forward a few decades and many many years of therapy later, and a lot of that (thankfully) has changed. I have gained valuable lived experience which has disrupted some of these narratives, found and developed my inner advocate, learned how to access, sit with, and communicate my inner emotional experience, and in the process realized that I am a pretty damn marvelous human! Or perhaps in the words or Carl Jung, I didn’t so much solve my problems but instead *with support* have outgrown some of them…added capacities and experiences that made me bigger than the problems. Bless.
But, there are still times when I am caught off-guard in everyday moments like what happened this week - still finding the residue of high control religion and it’s internalized shame, still having to brush off the assumption that when something goes wrong or badly, it must be because of me or something I did (or didn’t do). I’m grateful that now the amount of time between point A (something going wrong and me panicking that it’s my fault) and point B (realizing that I had nothing to do with whatever the thing was AND that it was a completely neutral event that had no catastrophic or eternal consequences) is a matter of a few seconds or minutes and not hours or days like it was in the past.
It got me thinking about some of you who might be in the beginning stages of this journey - realizing that what happened to you in your faith community was harmful at best and traumatic and abusive at worst. Realizing that you were wrongfully made to believe you were the villain in your story instead of the hero.
Realizing that the entire foundation of what you’ve been standing on and accepting as truth for years is crumbling beneath you.
I know my own version of that and I know it is scary, disorienting, isolating, and often heartbreaking. But I also know the other side of it - that recovery, growth, and healing are possible. That rebuilding is possible. That finding yourself again (or maybe for the first time) is possible. That getting your needs met is possible. That finding connection and community is possible. It will all likely be messy, and it will likely also all be beautiful. I’m here for it when you’re ready!
If you are ready to start unpacking what happened to you in high control religion with a therapist who specializes in religious trauma, spiritual abuse, and faith deconstruction, I’m accepting new clients in CA, FL, and MO. Send me a message to request a free 15 minute consultation to get started.