Easter used to mean something very different to me.
For years, it was a time of intense self-reflection—not the gentle kind that comes with a cup of tea and a journal, but the kind that felt like holding a magnifying glass up to my soul, searching for cracks. Every Good Friday sermon was another reminder of how unworthy I was. How broken. How much blood had to be spilled because of me.
And even though Easter Sunday came with the promise of redemption, the relief never fully landed. Because what kind of love story requires someone to be tortured to death for you to be worthy of it?
Now, years after leaving the faith, Easter still stirs something deep in me—but not in the way it used to. Instead of guilt, I feel a quiet grief. Instead of fear, I feel a bittersweet nostalgia for the parts that weren’t all bad—church lunches, chocolate eggs, a sense of tradition. And instead of obligation, I feel something I never thought I’d have around this season: choice.
But that shift didn’t happen overnight. And if you’re someone who’s still untangling Easter from years of religious trauma, you’re not alone. Let’s talk about what makes this season so hard—and how you can reclaim it on your own terms.
Why Easter Can Be So Difficult After Leaving Religion
For those of us who grew up in high-control religious environments, Easter isn’t just a public holiday—it’s loaded with meaning, expectation, and often, deep emotional wounds. Here are some of the reasons why it can be particularly triggering:
1. The Weight of Guilt and Unworthiness
Easter, especially in Christian traditions, is built around the idea of sacrifice—Jesus suffering and dying because humanity was too sinful to save itself. If you grew up hearing that message, it likely shaped the way you saw yourself. You may have internalised the belief that you were inherently bad, that love had to be earned, or that suffering was necessary for redemption. Even if you no longer believe it, those messages can still linger in the body.
2. The Fear of ‘Getting It Wrong’
For many who have left high-control faiths, there’s often an underlying anxiety about whether they made the right decision. Easter can resurface old fears—what if I am turning my back on the truth? What if I’m being deceived? What if I end up regretting this? High-control religions thrive on keeping people in line through fear, so it makes sense that some of those fears might resurface at a time like this.
3. The Loss of Community and Tradition
Even if faith was painful, it was still a community. It was still a structure that shaped your life. Leaving often means losing more than just beliefs—you may have lost friendships, family relationships, and traditions that once gave you a sense of belonging. Easter can be a painful reminder of what’s missing.
4. Pressure from Family and Loved Ones
If you have religious family members, Easter can come with expectations. You might be asked to attend church, pray over a meal, or engage in conversations that feel uncomfortable. For some, there’s also the added pressure of being seen as the ‘lost sheep’—the one they need to ‘bring back’ to the faith. It can be exhausting to navigate.
Reclaiming Easter on Your Own Terms
So, how do you move through Easter in a way that honours where you’ve been but also supports where you are now? Here are a few ways to reclaim this season for yourself:
1. Recognise That Your Feelings Are Valid
Whatever comes up for you around Easter—grief, anger, relief, confusion—it all makes sense. You were conditioned to see this season a certain way for years, sometimes decades. There’s no ‘right’ way to feel about it now. Give yourself permission to sit with whatever emotions arise, without judgment.
2. Decide What Easter Means to You
Now that you’re outside of religious obligation, Easter doesn’t have to mean anything you don’t want it to. You can ignore it altogether, celebrate it in a secular way, or reclaim aspects of it that do feel meaningful to you. Maybe it becomes a time to reflect on rebirth and personal growth, maybe it’s just about chocolate and time off work. Maybe it’s a day to do absolutely nothing—and that’s enough.
3. Create New Rituals
Rituals don’t have to be religious—they can be personal, grounding, and deeply healing. If Easter was once a time of reflection and renewal, you might choose to honour that in a different way:
- A nature walk to mark the changing seasons
- Writing a letter to your past self, acknowledging how far you’ve come
- Sharing a meal with people who support and celebrate you
- Taking a ‘day of rest’ in a way that feels good—no guilt, no pressure, just rest
- Creating an annual playlist of songs that resonate with your journey
- Watching a movie or reading a book that reflects themes of transformation or resilience
- Making or planting something as a symbol of growth and new beginnings
- Baking or cooking a dish that brings comfort and connection to the present moment
- Having a personal “release ritual”—writing down lingering guilt or fear and symbolically letting it go (burning it, tearing it up, or sending it down a stream)
- Hosting a “chosen family” gathering, celebrating the relationships you’ve built outside of religious spaces
4. Set Boundaries with Family and Friends
If family gatherings feel stressful, it’s okay to opt out. If you do choose to attend, think about what boundaries you might need. Maybe you decide that church is off the table, or that certain conversations are not up for discussion. You don’t have to explain or defend yourself. “That doesn’t work for me” is a full sentence.
5. Find Support in Others Who Understand
If Easter feels heavy, you’re not alone. There are so many others who understand what it’s like to navigate religious holidays after deconstruction. Whether it’s an online community, a local meetup, or just a friend who gets it, finding support can make a huge difference. You don’t have to carry it all by yourself.
Easter, Without the Guilt
If you’re used to Easter being a time of shame and obligation, it might feel strange to think about experiencing it differently. But you can. You are allowed to step out of old narratives and create something new.
For me, Easter no longer holds the same weight of sin and sacrifice, though it still stirs something in me at times. Some years, it’s just another weekend—a chance to rest, enjoy good food, and reflect on how much my life has changed since leaving the faith. Other years, old emotions surface in ways I don’t always expect. But even in those moments, there’s freedom in knowing that Easter is mine to define now, and that, in itself, feels like a kind of resurrection.
Whatever Easter looks like for you this year, I hope it’s free of guilt. Free of fear. And full of choices that honour you.
Religious trauma can leave deep imprints, and it’s okay if this season brings up emotions you’re still untangling. If you need support, working with a therapist who understands religious trauma can help you process the past and reclaim your present in a way that feels right for you. You deserve a life that isn’t weighed down by guilt—one where you get to choose what holds meaning and what doesn’t. Reach out!