I also used to believe God was watching over me. Maybe I was told one too many times that "God never gives you more than you can handle." Or that "this is a test." Something broke a long time ago. Or maybe not broke. Dissolved? The point it, so this speaks to me. Thank you for writing it.
I feel this with you, Shawna. I heard these empty platitudes so often after our daughter Sarah was born with a rare genetic condition. And you're right - all it does it turn people away. What we need isn't theology or answers or tropes. What we need is love and acceptance and accompaniment.
Thanks, Clare. It’s from years of experience living through the drudgery and injustice of feeling small and pushed away by easy answers that have no real value.
Hi John, thank you so much for your kind words. I can't begin to tell you how much they mean to me. This was a difficult essay to write and I'm so proud that it moved you 💕
This article resonated with me a lot. For me, the trauma was so deeply ingrained that I am still fighting it as we speak, and though I despise the violent misogyny of many world religions, they are still alive and useful for so many misogynistic cultures and people today. I don’t think I can overcome my trauma until the international culture becomes less frightening for anyone who is not in a position of power. 💔❤️🩹🫂😔
Thanks for sharing a little of your experience, Sarah. I'm so sorry to hear that you're grappling with this at the moment. It's an enormous, interconnected web of misogyny and trauma and handred and it's impossibly difficult to find a way through. Sending strength and solidarity your way 💕
I am in the US. Was raised United Methodist (the tradition of my mother's family). I loved church and faith was part of how I survived a childhood of abuse. As an adult I "experienced" a call to ministry, to creating communities where children and families were safe and warm and welcome and where survivors could heal. I am also lesbian and queer. The church loved my ministry until I said I could no longer hide that part of myself. I had to chose myself or my work. I surrendered my credentials in hopes of surrendering all the shame. The place that helped me navigate one trauma inflicted another. It's a weird space to exist. And I'm grateful for people like you who speak truth to power.
I keep a copy of Mary Oliver's "Wild Geese" on my nightstand.
Mary Oliver has guided my through so many difficult moments. What a gift her work is!
I'm sorry to hear about your experiences with the church, though it's inspiring to read that you ultimately chose yourself over the work. You should never have had to make that choice though, and I'm sorry that those in authority didn't treat you better.
Thank you for being here, and for sharing some of your experiences. It means a lot 💕
Thank you so much for this very moving and powerful piece, Clare! It resonated with me deeply. I especially felt the “I was born a crime” and the “Her faith was the organising structure for her life and the backdrop to my childhood trauma” lines. The ways that religious indoctrination, trauma, sexual assault, queerness, etc. intersect are tremendously complicated, and I really appreciate your candor and willingness to share❤️
This is such a heart-wrenching piece. It's a hard read, a brave essay.
I could relate to your concept of being a "spiritual mongrel." Much of what you describe in your religious/spiritual pathway I have grappled with myself. I will tell you outright that I am still a practicing Catholic, and this is the reason why: because I believe it can, and must, change somehow. Maybe that is a naive belief, but I do see the dangers of religious trauma - of using religion as a weapon, of the corruption in the Church hierarchy and its nefarious consequences.
There are many good people within every religion, too, I have found. Like you, I was born into a Catholic family, and my mother is still incredibly devout...to the point of scrupulosity. Really, as a pathology. And I'm unraveling in my own trauma recovery how her pathologized interpretation and expression of Catholicism harmed me, shamed me. It's a strange and uncomfortable discovery, because so much of how she taught me is ingrained in my psyche, emblazoned on my bones.
I am close friends with two priests, and we have had these kinds of conversations - about all the things you mentioned in your essay today. I am both surprised and relieved that they, too, see these as huge concerns that MUST change in the Catholic Church, and they also feel helpless on how to go about making those changes, because they are "ordinary" priests and have little to no power within the hierarchy to make that happen - except at a parish level, which they are actively trying to do. There are good men who are clergy, and the ones I am friends with have deep compassion for the ways Catholicism has hurt people and pushed them away, made them feel inferior or excluded or ostracized.
Clare, I do want to tell you that I believe the homophobia within Catholicism is disintegrating. Maybe not on a theological level (ugh), but definitely within the laity. There are many people who believe as you do, that all are equal and we all have a right to love and acceptance. We all belong.
It makes sense why you needed to walk away from all of this in order to find your freedom and peace. I understand that. Maybe there is a sliver of hope in knowing that some of us stay within religion in order to reform it, because we believe reform IS possible and that it MUST happen in order for healing to take place.
Thank you for this generous comment, Jeannie. I know there are good people in the church too, and I'm grateful to them/you.
That's not work I'm able to do, but I'm so glad that people are doing it. I do agree re: homophobia in the church too. I don't have much confidence in the higher echelons (as you said, ugh!), but among the ordinary faithful change is happening.
Thanks as always for your steadfast support of my writing. I'm so grateful to be in conversation with you 💕
Thanks for this courageous share Clare, very moving and powerful ❤️
Thank you Vicki 💕
I also used to believe God was watching over me. Maybe I was told one too many times that "God never gives you more than you can handle." Or that "this is a test." Something broke a long time ago. Or maybe not broke. Dissolved? The point it, so this speaks to me. Thank you for writing it.
Thank you Shawna. I'm so grateful for your presence here 💕
I feel this with you, Shawna. I heard these empty platitudes so often after our daughter Sarah was born with a rare genetic condition. And you're right - all it does it turn people away. What we need isn't theology or answers or tropes. What we need is love and acceptance and accompaniment.
This is beautifully put Jeannie 💕
Thanks, Clare. It’s from years of experience living through the drudgery and injustice of feeling small and pushed away by easy answers that have no real value.
Clare, I was raised in a high control religion and can't begin to express how powerfully your writing has moved me today. I mean, literally to tears.
Hi John, thank you so much for your kind words. I can't begin to tell you how much they mean to me. This was a difficult essay to write and I'm so proud that it moved you 💕
This article resonated with me a lot. For me, the trauma was so deeply ingrained that I am still fighting it as we speak, and though I despise the violent misogyny of many world religions, they are still alive and useful for so many misogynistic cultures and people today. I don’t think I can overcome my trauma until the international culture becomes less frightening for anyone who is not in a position of power. 💔❤️🩹🫂😔
Thanks for sharing a little of your experience, Sarah. I'm so sorry to hear that you're grappling with this at the moment. It's an enormous, interconnected web of misogyny and trauma and handred and it's impossibly difficult to find a way through. Sending strength and solidarity your way 💕
I am in the US. Was raised United Methodist (the tradition of my mother's family). I loved church and faith was part of how I survived a childhood of abuse. As an adult I "experienced" a call to ministry, to creating communities where children and families were safe and warm and welcome and where survivors could heal. I am also lesbian and queer. The church loved my ministry until I said I could no longer hide that part of myself. I had to chose myself or my work. I surrendered my credentials in hopes of surrendering all the shame. The place that helped me navigate one trauma inflicted another. It's a weird space to exist. And I'm grateful for people like you who speak truth to power.
I keep a copy of Mary Oliver's "Wild Geese" on my nightstand.
Mary Oliver has guided my through so many difficult moments. What a gift her work is!
I'm sorry to hear about your experiences with the church, though it's inspiring to read that you ultimately chose yourself over the work. You should never have had to make that choice though, and I'm sorry that those in authority didn't treat you better.
Thank you for being here, and for sharing some of your experiences. It means a lot 💕
Thank you so much for this very moving and powerful piece, Clare! It resonated with me deeply. I especially felt the “I was born a crime” and the “Her faith was the organising structure for her life and the backdrop to my childhood trauma” lines. The ways that religious indoctrination, trauma, sexual assault, queerness, etc. intersect are tremendously complicated, and I really appreciate your candor and willingness to share❤️
Thank you Catherine. This is a complicated essay to write and share, so I really appreciate your encouragement 💕
Clare, my heart breaks for you and for every child who has experienced this abuse at the hands of the church.
Thank you so much Rachel. That means a lot 💕
Clare,
This is such a heart-wrenching piece. It's a hard read, a brave essay.
I could relate to your concept of being a "spiritual mongrel." Much of what you describe in your religious/spiritual pathway I have grappled with myself. I will tell you outright that I am still a practicing Catholic, and this is the reason why: because I believe it can, and must, change somehow. Maybe that is a naive belief, but I do see the dangers of religious trauma - of using religion as a weapon, of the corruption in the Church hierarchy and its nefarious consequences.
There are many good people within every religion, too, I have found. Like you, I was born into a Catholic family, and my mother is still incredibly devout...to the point of scrupulosity. Really, as a pathology. And I'm unraveling in my own trauma recovery how her pathologized interpretation and expression of Catholicism harmed me, shamed me. It's a strange and uncomfortable discovery, because so much of how she taught me is ingrained in my psyche, emblazoned on my bones.
I am close friends with two priests, and we have had these kinds of conversations - about all the things you mentioned in your essay today. I am both surprised and relieved that they, too, see these as huge concerns that MUST change in the Catholic Church, and they also feel helpless on how to go about making those changes, because they are "ordinary" priests and have little to no power within the hierarchy to make that happen - except at a parish level, which they are actively trying to do. There are good men who are clergy, and the ones I am friends with have deep compassion for the ways Catholicism has hurt people and pushed them away, made them feel inferior or excluded or ostracized.
Clare, I do want to tell you that I believe the homophobia within Catholicism is disintegrating. Maybe not on a theological level (ugh), but definitely within the laity. There are many people who believe as you do, that all are equal and we all have a right to love and acceptance. We all belong.
It makes sense why you needed to walk away from all of this in order to find your freedom and peace. I understand that. Maybe there is a sliver of hope in knowing that some of us stay within religion in order to reform it, because we believe reform IS possible and that it MUST happen in order for healing to take place.
Thank you for this generous comment, Jeannie. I know there are good people in the church too, and I'm grateful to them/you.
That's not work I'm able to do, but I'm so glad that people are doing it. I do agree re: homophobia in the church too. I don't have much confidence in the higher echelons (as you said, ugh!), but among the ordinary faithful change is happening.
Thanks as always for your steadfast support of my writing. I'm so grateful to be in conversation with you 💕
I feel the same about you, Clare!