How I Stayed Faithful and Reclaimed My Agency After Difficult Experiences in Faith Settings

As a teen, my decision to explore a different Christian denomination was met with unexpected opposition. This is part of my story, including my Savior's ability to heal spiritual wounds.

I write from lived experience, more than twenty years of serving as a church youth leader, and ongoing learning about evidence-based safeguarding that names harm without undermining faith.

A Positive Foundation

Growing up, church played a huge (and positive) role in my life. It was central to school, family, and it was where I experienced genuine meaning and belonging.

Then I became a teenager and things changed.

Questions I'd carried for many years became more urgent. I wanted to feel closer to my Savior. I wanted to understand how faith might translate into everyday life. More than anything, I wanted God’s love to feel tangible and real again, the way it had when I was a young child.

Discovering Options

I started exploring different Christian denominations, then one in particular felt like home.

This was painful for my parents, but they balanced their feelings with something that had always mattered in our home: freedom of thought in matters of faith and belief.

Eventually, we worked out a compromise. I could continue attending my new church as long as I stayed engaged in our family’s. I didn’t love the arrangement, but I knew it was fair because after a few years, my parents said I could choose for myself.

When Influence Became Coercion

What I didn’t realize was that other adults in faith settings, many of whom I barely knew, also felt a responsibility for me. Some tried to influence me carefully. Others did not.

At first, it was awkward interactions. Then public embarrassment and private meetings. Over time, it escalated into coercive attempts to get me to reconsider my path. By senior year, the pressure included threats tied to my future if I didn’t change my decision.

At the time, I assumed each uncomfortable moment would be the last. Years later, when waves of emotion followed imperfect interactions at church, I assumed I was simply too sensitive.

In both cases, I was wrong.

New Resources, New Understanding

What I know now is that not having language or a faith-affirming framework for understanding difficult experiences allowed it to continue. Unaddressed, it also kept shaping me.

When I share parts of my experience, some become uncomfortable. Many believe certain actions are not abuse, because they are not physical or sexual. But abuse isn't limited to the body.

One definition from a church handbook for leaders in my faith community states:

“Abuse is the physical, emotional, sexual, or spiritual mistreatment of others. It may not only harm the body, but it can deeply affect the mind and spirit, destroying faith and causing confusion, doubt, mistrust, guilt, and fear.”

(Responding to Abuse: Helps for Ecclesiastical Leaders, 1)

That has helped me make sense of what happened. And why I felt the impact for so long. What I experienced didn't end when events came to a stop. It followed me into adulthood. Social anxiety, triggers at church, and difficulty choosing responses when overwhelming feelings tried to make decisions for me—for a long time, I didn't have words for what was happening.

What My Savior Taught Me About My Experiences

The years I spent feeling my way through darkness, and the lack of understanding I often encounter, isn't without precedence. Throughout the Gospels, we see Jesus at odds with abusive spiritual systems. Usually, it boils down to the misuse of agency by only a few.

But in every instance, He ministered to those affected; similar to how I felt Him minister to me as a young teen.

And He didn’t instruct His apostles to sanitize those accounts. In fact, when He appeared to them after His resurrection, He didn’t ask that they remove from the record that it was one of His own—whom He had called by inspiration —that had betrayed Him. As the source of all truth and light, He allowed the New Testament record to stand with full transparency.

I believe this was intentional, so that we would not be left without a pattern or example set by Christ. Throughout the scriptures, we see Him respond to imperfect interactions in faith-based settings and relationships, modeling how to use agency in these complex situations.

Though my experiences as a youth later disrupted the peace I felt in the faith I chose for myself, they also brought me closer to Jesus Christ. Relying on Him, asking why unwanted feelings kept resurfacing and what healing might look like, brought waves of courage and hope. Then clarity. Eventually, I came out the other side.

My Savior has given me back the joy I felt in my faith from the beginning. He has deepened my understanding of Him and the power of His Atonement. After seeing coercive tactics used against Him in the New Testament, I am left with this:

He overcame.

What My Experience Has Taught Me About Religious Freedom

For me, religious freedom is not an abstract idea. It’s about whether a teenager can seek God without intimidation, whether persuasion becomes pressure, and whether authority reflects Christ and His ways or overrides an individual’s conscience.

In sharing my experience, I’ve chosen not to name the mainstream faith community involved because I don’t believe in shaming those who shamed in order to inspire change. From experience, I know that doesn’t work. My goal isn't to dismantle belief, it is to increase it. After what my beautiful Savior has done for me, it is impossible for me to separate Him from the healing (and difficulties) I've come to know—which is why I share my experience.

I share my story is for those like me who experience triggers and social anxiety at church but remember it was not always that way. I share it for those who believe coercion in faith-based relationships isn't a problem. For those who use it because they think it works. For those who are confident they would never coerce. And for all of us in between who overstep at times, because none of us are immune to behavior that is unhelpful.

More than anything, I share my story to inspire hope that if you once felt joy at church or in a faith-centered family, it can be reclaimed. I also share it to inspire hope that institutions, while imperfect, are increasingly learning to name coercion and prevent abuse.

For those navigating difficulties who love their faith, I would say this: At the heart of this is what is both at stake and what can be restored—agency.

Our Savior knows every detail of our experiences. Healing spiritual wounds is possible with Him.

For those who want a clearer framework for understanding the difference between various behaviors in faith-based relationships, I explore Understanding Lisa Oakley's Spectrum of Behavior in a separate post.