11/12/2025
Why “just breathe” can trigger your religious trauma
Because when you grew up being told to “just pray”…
“Just breathe” feels like a rebrand of the same erasure.
It doesn’t feel grounding.
It feels like gaslighting.
Because when your spiritual upbringing taught you to bypass your body, numb your fear, perform peace —
Stillness didn’t mean safety.
Stillness meant submission.
So when someone says, “Just breathe”?
Your nervous system might flinch.
Not because you’re broken.
But because your body remembers being told:
“If you’re still anxious… you must not be trusting God enough.”
“If you’re still struggling… maybe you’re not praying hard enough.”
“If you still have doubts… maybe you’re the problem.”
When really — you were a teenager.
Trying to make sense of suffering inside a system that only offered you silence.
You were in pain.
And instead of care, you were handed performance.
Smile.
Serve.
Submit.
And call it healing.
So if the holidays bring up waves you didn’t expect…
If you feel yourself shutting down or checking out…
If you get activated by things like carols or candles or church services that used to be “normal”…
Just know:
You’re not crazy.
You’re not overreacting.
You’re not “ungrateful” or “too sensitive” or “making things about you.”
You’re responding.
To years of spiritual bypass.
To being told that your deepest pain was a test.
And that if you failed the test, it meant you didn’t believe hard enough.
You don’t need to explain that to anyone.
What hurts you — hurts you.
What’s real for you — is real.
Even if no one else gets it.
If your body is telling you “this is too much,”
That’s enough.
That’s valid.
That’s data.
You’re allowed to let your nervous system speak louder than the script they handed you.
You don’t have to pray it away.
You don’t have to breathe it away.
You just get to listen.
And honor what you hear.
🫁 If this feels like you, you can drop that emoji.
Or DM me.
I see you.
And I promise:
There’s nothing wrong with the way your body responds to what it survived.
You’re not failing.
You’re healing.
Quietly. Fiercely. On your terms.