For many people who have endured abuse, faith offers solace, strength, and a place of support. But for others, religious communities become yet another place where their suffering is minimized, their voices stifled, and their abuser shielded. The very teachings meant to support and encourage can be distorted to keep survivors silent—transforming sacred environments into places of continued harm.
Twisting Scripture Into Control
Many domestic abuse survivors have described how religious doctrine has been used to pressure them into remaining with an abuser. Ideas like “submit to your husband” or “God hates divorce” are used as tools to enforce endurance over protection—especially for women.
One person said, “My narcissistic father always used our religion like a cricket bat to emotionally beat me over the head, so he could control me.”
“I was told I was going to hell if I left,” another woman said. “Even though he was abusing me and our child.”
Another survivor wrote, “Even today he was questioning my Christianity, saying my boundaries are unbiblical and abusive.” Instead of support and encouragement to leave a dangerous situation, survivors are often urged to pray harder, forgive endlessly, or demonstrate more faith.
Conversely, one woman shared how her husband hated her faith and tried to control her way of expressing it, “My husband was not so religious but I am. If he caught me playing Christian music, all hell would break loose by physical abuse.”
All these experiences create deep inner turmoil, as survivors struggle to reconcile their spiritual beliefs with their need for safety.
Believing the Image, Ignoring the Harm
Abusers often maintain a respected public presence within their religious communities—as pastors, volunteers, or simply as seemingly kind, devoted members. Their outward persona makes it difficult for others to accept that abuse may be happening behind closed doors.
“My ex father-in-law was a preacher,” one woman wrote. “Behind closed doors, he was a full-blown narc and abuser. Same as both his sons.” Another survivor said, “My church saw him as a wonderful, giving man. But they didn’t see what he did at home.”
This disconnect can cause communities to excuse or minimize abuse, shift blame onto the victim, or pressure them to remain silent to maintain appearances. In some cases, leadership actively discourages divorce or disclosure, placing institutional reputation above personal safety.
Silenced by Shame and the Pressure to “Forgive”
Survivors who are part of religious communities often face guilt, grief, and confusion—emotions that are only made worse when their own faith circles shame them for leaving an abusive relationship or speaking out about the violence they face. Being labeled as sinful or rebellious can add another layer of trauma.
“The worst is when we look the other way and allow church doctrines to prevent women from divorcing and make them stay for years in domestic violence,” one woman shared. Another said, “He abused me and then claimed I had to forgive him because we were Christians and as a Christian, I was called to forgive.”
This kind of coerced forgiveness silences survivors, pushing them to reconcile with someone who has neither changed nor shown remorse. Without accountability, the cycle of abuse continues—while the victim’s pain and security is overlooked.
Leaving Abuse—and the Church Behind
For some, walking away from an abusive partner also means leaving their faith community. The emotional and spiritual betrayal by a trusted religious group can be just as devastating as the abuse itself.
“My ex-husband abused me in every way. But what hurt almost as much was being shamed in church when I left him,” one woman explained. Another survivor said, “My friends’ church supported her abuser and told her she was being ungrateful. It broke her spirit. She doesn’t go to church anymore.”
When faith communities put doctrine above human dignity, survivors often find themselves spiritually displaced—no longer able to turn to a place that once provided hope, or to their friends and neighbors who once claimed to care.
Healing Your Faith on Your Own Terms
Over time, many survivors reclaim their spirituality in ways that feel safe and authentic to them. Some discover new faith communities. Others build a personal relationship with God that isn’t defined by harmful interpretations or past trauma.
“Even though I left the church that enabled my abuser, I found a new one—one that listened, that believed, that didn’t ask me to pretend,” a survivor shared.
Another wrote, “I still believe in God. I just don’t believe in staying where my soul is dying.”
“A pastor from a different church came to me and told me he would come with me to the police. That one act changed everything,” another person shared. These moments show that while some religious communities fail survivors, others can provide true support.
For some, faith becomes a guiding light out of the darkness.
Restoring Voice, Rebuilding Belief
The journey to healing after spiritual betrayal is long, but it doesn’t have to be taken alone. There are leaders who stand with survivors, communities that prioritize safety, and places of worship that do not equate devotion with submission or tolerance of abuse.
To reclaim your faith after religious betrayal is to listen to your own voice above the voices that once demanded your silence. It’s to understand that your safety, your truth, and your life matter—no matter what anyone says.
When a religious community chooses to shield an abuser and silence a survivor, it fails its most sacred duty: to protect the vulnerable. But survivors are not alone—and they are never wrong for choosing themselves over suffering.
No faith should require you to stay in harm’s way. If your religious community told you otherwise, know this: You don’t owe them your silence and submission. Your life matters more than their judgment.
Featured Image: Religious communities may dismiss domestic violence to “keep up appearances” and some abusers misrepresent religious teachings to control their partners. Source: Sana / Adobe Stock.
* Quotes are drawn from survivor experiences shared publicly on the Shadows of Control Facebook and Twitter pages and have been lightly edited for spelling, grammar, or clarity.
"When a religious community chooses to shield an abuser and silence a survivor, it fails its most sacred duty: to protect the vulnerable."
This is so common and I wish more people understood this. Thank you for writing on this subject.
This is a subject that has always gone on.