There’s this weird thing that happens when you start pulling apart the belief system you once built your whole life around. People call it “faith deconstruction,” but that sounds so… neat. Like it’s an IKEA shelf you can just take apart with an Allen key, put into the recycling bin, and move on.
Except, it’s not neat. It’s messy and emotional. And most days, it feels like you’re trying to untangle fairy lights that have been shoved into a box for twenty years, only to discover there are five other mystery cords woven through and possibly a dead spider.
This is where self-compassion comes in. And I’ll be honest, I, like most of us who’ve come from religious or high-control environments are terrible at it. We’ve been trained to extend compassion to everyone else while turning the cold shoulder on ourselves. Self-compassion might even feel wrong, selfish, or indulgent.
But in the middle of all the unravelling, grieving, and rebuilding? Self-compassion isn’t just “nice to have” – it’s essential.
Why Self-Compassion Feels Hard After Leaving Faith
For a lot of us, our inner voice sounds suspiciously like the leadership we left behind. We might have ditched the theology, but the inner critic stayed.
The high-control world you left likely had a few things in common:
- Perfectionism was the bare minimum.
- Your worth was tied to performance, obedience, or usefulness.
- “Dying to self” wasn’t a metaphor – it was the expectation.
When you’ve been steeped in those narratives for years or decades, learning to treat yourself with warmth instead of judgement can feel like trying to write with your non-dominant hand. Awkward. Frustrating. And sometimes… pointless.
But self-compassion is how we start replacing those old narratives with something that actually heals instead of harms. It’s the antidote to the shame loops that religious trauma so often leaves behind.
Self-Compassion in Real Life (Not Just Pinterest Quotes)
Self-compassion gets thrown around like it’s just “being nice to yourself”, which can feel vague and unhelpful. So let’s make it concrete.
- Talk to yourself like you would a friend
If your friend was going through a total identity collapse, you wouldn’t tell them to “get over it” or “just trust the process.” You’d listen. You’d validate. You’d remind them they’re doing their best in impossible circumstances. Try giving yourself that same script. - Name the grief and let it breathe
It’s tempting to rush through the pain, but self-compassion looks like allowing space for all the feelings, anger, sadness, betrayal, confusion. Not trying to fix them immediately. Just being with them. - Set boundaries with yourself too
This might sound strange, but boundaries aren’t just for other people. They’re for the part of you that’s tempted to spiral in self-blame or overanalyse every choice. A boundary can be, “I’m not going to re-read those old messages right before bed” or “I’m not going to compare my healing timeline to someone else’s.” - Notice small wins
You might not feel “healed” yet (whatever that means), but maybe you spoke up in a conversation, or you went a whole hour without an intrusive guilt thought. Those moments matter.
What Self-Compassion Isn’t
Here’s where I want to be clear: self-compassion isn’t about denying accountability or avoiding hard truths. It’s not pretending everything is fine when it isn’t. And it’s definitely not about bypassing grief with “positive vibes only” energy.
Instead, it’s about saying: Yes, this is hard. And yes, I still deserve kindness while I navigate it.
When You Don’t Feel Worthy of It
This is the tricky part. Many people in deconstruction will hit a point where self-compassion feels impossible because they still feel fundamentally flawed.
If that’s you, I want you to know: the feeling of unworthiness isn’t the truth, it’s an echo. It’s the leftover static from years of conditioning. And while you can’t silence it overnight, you can choose to start answering it differently.
It might look like writing yourself a letter from the most loving, understanding version of you. It might look like keeping a photo from a time you were little, and remembering that this whole journey is also about protecting that kid.
Self-compassion starts small. Sometimes it’s just making sure you eat breakfast. Sometimes it’s not forcing yourself to attend the family event that feels unsafe. Sometimes it’s switching off your phone and letting yourself cry without judgement.
The Long Game
Deconstruction is not a sprint. It’s a long walk through unfamiliar terrain, where the map you were given is useless and you have to figure out new landmarks as you go.
If you try to do that while hurling insults at yourself for not being “further along,” you’re going to burn out. But if you try self-compassion, even imperfectly, even awkwardly then you’ll start to notice you have more capacity for the journey.
And maybe, one day, you’ll look back and realise you treated yourself with the same care you once desperately hoped others would show you.
Because you deserved it all along.
Keep Walking With Kindness
If you’re somewhere in the messy middle of deconstruction and wondering how to hold onto compassion for yourself, you’re not alone. It’s a practice, not a personality trait and it gets easier the more you lean into it.
If you’d like support as you navigate your own healing and identity rebuilding, I work with people all over Australia and New Zealand who are untangling the complex impacts of religious trauma. You can reach out to book a session, because you don’t have to do this walk alone.