Religious Deconstruction to Spiritual Synthesis

I was raised Christian. A statement that I used to believe meant I was part of an exclusive, unified group. I know better now. I’ve come to understand that my upbringing was far from normal and even quite different from the average Christian upbringing. I attended a private, Christian academy for elementary school. In Kindergarten, I learned my ABC’s by reciting Bible verses. My childhood was so old fashioned that I was spanked by the Principal on my first day of school for talking too much. Being silenced is a message I am still trying to heal from.

My entire adolescence and teenage years were guided by “Biblical, Christian” ideals. Christian music, Christian literature, Christian figures, pastors, and teachers all overshadowed the very limited “worldly” content I was exposed to. 

I wasn’t spared from living in the real world where growing up sucks and bad stuff happens. My parents did the best they could and their intentions were to protect me. Truthfully, my parents gave me religion but that religion gave me fear, doubt, shame, and anxiety from a variety of sources I was encouraged to trust. 

Conflict

I didn’t know how much conflict existed inside of me until I was a grown adult experiencing a lot of suffering. I can look back and see it but in the moment I just felt lost. It’s ironic, since my religion was supposed to make me “saved” and “lost” was what all the others were labeled. That was one of many contradictions I had to unravel.

Rarely, I can pinpoint who or what planted a certain belief in me. Mostly, it was the compound messages I received over and over again from many sources that stuck the deepest. There were handfuls of voices that echoed things like, “girls can’t wear pants or cut their hair,” “children and women shouldn’t speak,” “be seen but not heard,” “fulfill your duties as a woman,” “don’t question authority,” the layers of how to properly be submissive, the very distinct roles of men and women, what constitutes value in human life, and so much more. 

My greatest conflict came through marriage. I married young, quick, and naive to a narcissistic man who wanted control. I only wanted to be a good wife and mother. My greatest fear was failing at those things. When things got really bad in the marriage, he suddenly “found God” and quickly became very religious. Not the kind of religion that a person takes personally for growth and reflection; rather the kind that gives a man power over a woman and total control of his own universe “because God said so.” I wish I could say I saw the light and knew he was in the wrong, but all that training about authority, submission, and the sanctity of marriage left me drowning in pain and heartbreak while I constantly tried to be good enough. The fear of going to hell for not obeying, for ending up in a divorce, or for thinking bad thoughts, kept me paralyzed for many years. 

The Breakdown

One day I stopped believing in hell, and my whole life changed. This wasn’t a sudden change or flippant decision. It took years to digest and finally embrace. A couple years after getting married and shortly after having my first baby, I decided to go to college. I spent the next decade in college earning degrees and consuming everything I could learn. I changed majors a couple of times, finished an associates degree while single-handedly raising babies, and then decided to go deep. I chose a Christian University because at that time I still saw my own identity as primarily Christian. Also, I had decided to study Psychology which was taboo and discouraged in the Christian community and so getting a Bible degree seemed to even that out. The more I learned about the Bible the shakier my faith became. My foundation had some solid bricks held together by crumbling modern ideas and interpretations that just didn’t match up. I asked professors hard questions and learned so much that contradicted what I had thought I knew. It wasn’t until grad school that I started to actively change my beliefs. I remember hitting this moment where I realized that I had openly accepted all the beliefs I had been handed and let other people shape my faith and my reality. I had to figure out “What do I believe?” That’s one hell of an existential crisis to have in your late 20s while your world unravels around you. By then, the marriage was really bad and the abuse was evident. People were starting to notice things but I was still fighting for my soul and living controlled by fear.

One day I got involved with a Bible study full of people like me; people with high education, deep insight into scripture, and a lot of honest questions on a search for truth. That group dissected the Biblical narrative of hell and we all came to see that the common belief isn’t Biblical at all and hell as Hollywood portrays it just simply isn’t real. I remember the moment this clicked for me and what was actually in front of me broke through the veil of deception I had been under my whole life. It would be many months before I felt confident in my study and understanding and even years for me to outwardly embrace this. That fear instilled in childhood runs deep. 

Once the concept of hell settled for me and I formed my own belief, I realized I could do this for everything I thought I knew. I could study things out for myself and decide what to accept or reject and adopt as my own faith.

Rebuilding a New Foundation

My deconstruction started by taking tricky ideas and hard topics and fleshing them out until I had peace about the answers I reached. At a certain point, I decided I needed more balanced ideas. I realized that the multitude of topics I had avoided my entire life because they were deemed bad or unsafe by Christian “experts” were actually open and available to me to form my own opinions on. I started small, researching, reading, and studying things that had interested me but were off limits. I still had a largely Christian lens that made me overanalyze a lot. I was in a weird place where my faith looked nothing like it once did but I didn’t fully discard my backstory beliefs either. There were some things I completely rejected but some things I still fully embraced. I was in the space in between words or ideas where it’s hard to communicate exactly what is going on inside of you. So I kept some foundational bricks but started collecting stones that made sense. I was able to embrace some things I had never experienced before and I started to see the amazing parallels that run between all things. I remember feeling sad that I had missed so much of the world yet excited that I could now choose for myself. I rebuilt a foundation I could trust to hold me. I say rebuilt because it wasn’t new construction. I didn’t discard everything but I was able to improve upon what I had to work with. 

Steady Growth

As is nature, slow, steady growth is the healthiest kind. I wanted a reality that has strong roots- given time and care to grow stable. Over the course of a decade, I curated what I believe in an evolution of thought that shifted me well outside of the pretty box of norms. Once upon a time, as a Christian, I believed that all things are black and white, and that I had to know the truth without a doubt. Now, I believe in openness and space for growth and change. I believe truth takes various forms and it’s not all the same but it is attainable. I believe that I can be wrong and it’s not a flaw or imperfection that will reduce my value or rob me of good things. 

Somewhere along the journey, synthesis began, and for me it’s not an end I seek but a continual merging of all things. I started with a box I had to force myself to fit into. I pulled that box apart and discarded the damaged pieces while holding onto the good structure that remained. I collected new ideas and reassembled a very different structure that looks nothing like a box, but more like a wild garden that is well rooted and still growing. I realized that being open to developing as a person is so much more important than having the right answer. I also realized that sharing in the community of humanity, adding love to the world, taking care of yourself and others, being accountable for doing more good and less harm, and creating peace are essential elements of all faiths that underline what real truth should look like. I don’t make decisions anymore based on “will this make a God mad?” but rather, will this add value to my life, others, or the world? The world is full of bad stuff but it’s also full of beauty.

Remembering a True Identity

My mother told me, “You never lost your identity. You just forgot who you are for a little while.” A shift happened in my mind. The sense of being lost, like a dense fog, slightly lifted and suddenly there was a little bit of the road visible underneath. It felt easier to take a step, although I still didn’t know exactly where I was heading.

Identity can come from many things. We assume roles and if we are not steady in our awareness, those roles become what we believe we are. How often, when asked who we are, do we claim the identity of our roles; I am a mother, a writer, a wife, or a counselor. Which roles we highlight might depend on who the audience is which we are entertaining. In a business meeting, I am not likely to first say I am a mother. Likewise, in a social event full of women who are mothers, I am not likely to first label my career. The trouble herein comes from how fluid roles can be and therefore our identities become unstable. Deep insecurity might lead to an identity that labels us as hobbies, or religion, or sexual preferences.

When life shifts and we are shaken, an identity built on roles can come crashing down. I assumed a primary identity of ‘Wife’ for two decades, more than half of my life. That role was so important to me. It was essential to my self esteem that my functioning in that role defined my success and my value. I absorbed the multitude of messages from the culture and society around me about the role as wife and what it meant. So, when that role came to an end and I was facing the reality of divorce, I felt lost, confused, and lacking something that had become a large part of me. The loss of the relationship did not affect me at this point nearly as much as the loss of that role and title. For many years, the relationship had been gone. There was no substance left, only roles to fill. I had toiled through the slow death of the relationship and moved through deep grief many years prior. At a certain point, I resigned to going through the motions and fulfilling my duties as a wife. mother, and homemaker. I did a damn good job at my “jobs” and so even despite receiving no love or support, I was able to immerse myself in the work of being what I believed I needed to be. This was a self-laid snare that kept me trapped in a toxic situation far beyond when I should have let it end.

Then one day, while nurturing my spirituality, I was given a glimpse of a truth that gave me a sense of home. Talking about spiritual gifts, I heard someone say, “As you encounter something new that feels familiar and resonates deeply within you, you are simply remembering. Remembering who you are, and remembering the wisdom that’s been buried deep within you all along.” This took me back to the discovery that “Everything you need is already inside you.” Then my mother gave me the same message. I was never really lost, I just needed to remember. I am not a wife, but everything that made me a good wife is who I am. As in every possible role, we are not the title we carry, but the substance of what we pour into the job at hand. Roles change and end, but the person within the role is a steady and constant embodiment of attributes whose value is unchanging regardless of where she is positioned at any given moment.

So, if you are feeling lost, disconnected, or lacking, it’s time to remember who you are.

My Journey Is My Own

The next question that came was, “Do you enjoy helping others?” My first thought was a curiosity of other perspectives. Do people think my work is all about helping others? Do people think my goal is to help people? What an interesting idea.

I don’t try to help others. It’s not my goal, or my intention, or my reason for doing what I do. Admittedly, my process often does help in terms of providing insight or resources. I believe if I approached my work with the goal of helping others, I would fail often. That’s a lot of pressure with little direction.

I believe there is a process of becoming, an unfolding of authentic identity that must occur for purpose and passion to meet. I did not embark on my journey to help others. I did it to help me. I did not sign up for college classes or earn degrees with the thought of how someone else could be more successful. I did it to acquire new knowledge that was aligned with my deepest values and to navigate my own beliefs, fears, and possibilities. I never embraced a role, a job, or a duty to be nice or helpful. I did it because I knew without a doubt I was where I belong, and it would create momentum for the next leap.

Who I am and what I do are aligned, intertwined, and inseparable. Along the way to get where I am now, there were many levels, many upgrades, plenty of challenges, and so much to learn! Here’s the thing; I’m not done growing and I’m going to keep going! I love where I am but I know there is more for me. I don’t always know what my presence will mean to someone else, but I know that if I show up where I am meant to be as myself, it will be powerful, meaningful, and moving. I wish for everyone to reach this understanding and move into authentic being. Imagine what the world could be like!