John said to Him, “Teacher, we saw someone else driving out demons in Your name, and we tried to stop him, because he does not accompany us."
"Do not stop him,” Jesus replied. “For no one who performs a miracle in My name can turn around and speak evil of Me. For whoever is not against us is for us.
Mark 9:38-40. BSB
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Reclaiming Spiritual Autonomy
Leaving a high-control religion to reclaim a personal relationship with God can feel like walking away from a part of yourself—something that’s shaped your identity, your sense of belonging, and even your family relationships. For the person who’s leaving, it’s a deeply emotional and often painful journey. But the ripple effect doesn’t just impact them—it can shake up family dynamics in ways that might feel harsh or even hostile.
One of the hardest things to understand is why family members can react with such strong feelings of anger, betrayal, or hurt. For many, religion isn’t just a set of beliefs—it’s a lifeline, a way of defining who they are and how they relate to the world. When someone steps away from that shared identity, it can feel like a personal rejection. The family may love the person, but they can’t reconcile that love with the idea of abandoning something so central to their lives.
On top of that, there's the fear. In many high-control religions, leaving isn’t just a change of heart—it’s seen as a spiritual danger, even a ticket to damnation. So when a loved one walks away, it’s not just a heartbreak; it’s seen as a crisis. Family members might feel desperate to “save” the person, but instead of reaching out with understanding, their fear can turn into anger or judgment. They might say or do things they never would have in normal circumstances, driven by the belief that it’s their duty to bring the person back.
Another pressure point is the community. These religions often place enormous weight on the image of the group—how people are seen by others. When one family member leaves, it can feel like a public shame. The family might worry about their reputation, their place within the community, and how others will view them. That external pressure can fuel feelings of embarrassment, making it even harder for family members to separate their personal pain from their religious duties.
Then there’s the internal struggle of cognitive dissonance. When someone in the family leaves, it’s like a crack in the foundation of everything they’ve believed. It’s hard to keep the peace when the very beliefs that have held everything together are now being questioned. The reaction? Defensiveness. It’s easier to blame the person who left than to admit that maybe, just maybe, there’s room for doubt.
This emotional turbulence often leads to a breakdown in communication. Instead of talking openly, misunderstandings build up. The person who leaves might feel abandoned or misunderstood, while the family members might feel betrayed and helpless. The emotional pain can create a cycle of anger, confusion, and guilt that’s tough to break.
I know it’s not always easy to make sense of why things can get so tense. I’ve seen friends and family go through similar struggles. It’s easy to get caught in the feeling that you’ve done something wrong when others react so strongly. But when you step back and understand the layers of fear, tradition, and emotional investment at play, it becomes a little clearer.
The journey of leaving a high-control religion isn’t just about the decision itself; it’s about navigating the emotional and psychological fallout that comes with it. It’s not easy for anyone involved. But if we can bring some empathy to the table, acknowledging that fear, confusion, and old wounds are part of the picture, healing can begin. It might take time, patience, and open-hearted communication, but reconciliation is possible—even when deeply ingrained beliefs are involved.
Ultimately, it’s about finding a way to hold onto love and respect, even when life’s hardest decisions put everything to the test. The journey may be messy, but it doesn’t have to break the family bond. With empathy, there’s always room for understanding and growth.