Religious trauma is a slippery beast. It often hides behind niceties, behind the language of “discipleship” and “community,” behind shiny branding and “doing life together.” But behind those smiling faces and promises of belonging can lurk something far more insidious – cult dynamics. And no, I’m not just talking about fringe groups in white robes waiting for a spaceship.
Cult dynamics show up far more often than we think and not just in the groups that make headlines or documentaries. The truth is, many of us were raised in, joined, or stumbled into systems that were cult-like in how they operated, even if we weren’t calling them that at the time.
This is not just into what cults are, but how the dynamics of control, coercion, and conformity amplify the trauma so many people carry after leaving high-control faith environments. Whether you were part of a charismatic church, a conservative denomination, a house church that went rogue, or a big glossy megachurch with a smoke machine and an influencer pastor – this is for you.
“But I wasn’t in a cult, was I?”
Let’s just say it upfront: “cult” is a loaded word. It can feel dramatic, accusatory, even a little Hollywood. But it’s also one of the most misunderstood terms when it comes to religious harm. We tend to picture extremes groups like, Jonestown, NXIVM, Children of God and completely miss the quieter, more common ways cult dynamics creep into everyday religious life.
But cults aren’t defined by their theology, they’re defined by their dynamics. And those dynamics? They’re everywhere.
What makes something cult-like isn’t necessarily what it believes, but how it functions – particularly around power, control, belonging, and autonomy. Cults create environments where questioning is dangerous, dissent is punished (socially or spiritually), and loyalty is expected above all else. And when those dynamics show up in religious spaces, the trauma can run deep.
Some signs that a group operates with cult-like dynamics include:
- A charismatic leader who holds disproportionate power and is often seen as the voice of God
- Black-and-white thinking, where everything outside the group is framed as dangerous or evil
- Fear-based control, including threats of damnation, spiritual/real consequences, or relational cut-off
- Us vs. them mentalities, isolating members from outsiders, family, or even their own inner world
- Obsession with purity, modesty, or obedience as signs of spiritual worth
- Suppression of doubt, where questioning leadership or doctrine is seen as rebellion or sin
Not every cult is a doomsday group in the wilderness. Sometimes it’s a suburban church with a thriving youth ministry. Or a university Christian club. Or a group that started with love and community and slowly morphed into something else entirely.
The Trauma Beneath the Surface
Being part of a cult-like system isn’t just uncomfortable – it’s traumatic. Especially when it’s wrapped in spiritual language that makes the abuse feel like your fault.
Religious trauma doesn’t usually stem from a single moment of harm. It builds slowly, from years of gaslighting, spiritual manipulation, and identity erasure. When you’re in a system that tells you your value depends on obedience, that your questions are sinful, and that disconnection from the group equals disconnection from God, it messes with your brain, your body, and your entire sense of self.
In systems like these, trauma isn’t just about fear. It’s about betrayal.
You trusted these people and you gave them your vulnerability, your secrets, your time and money. You believed them when they said this was love. And when the mask slipped, when the punishment came, or the exclusion, or the guilt so thick you couldn’t breathe, it’s then that the betrayal hit in a way that’s hard to describe.
For many, the trauma includes:
- Loss of identity — when your whole self was shaped by the group, who are you without it?
- Loss of community — leaving often means isolation, excommunication, or being treated like a cautionary tale
- Shame and self-doubt — especially when you were told you were “rebellious,” “worldly,” or “deceived”
- PTSD-like symptoms — nightmares, hypervigilance, dissociation, or panic in “triggering” spaces
- Spiritual confusion — feeling haunted by beliefs you no longer hold but can’t shake
It’s a trauma that sits deep in the nervous system. And one that can be reactivated in the most unexpected ways, like a worship song in a café, a smell from a retreat, or a Bible verse on a bumper sticker.
The Mechanics of Control
At the heart of every cult-like system is one core goal: control. But it doesn’t usually show up as control, not at first anyway. It presents as care. As guidance or protection or “discipleship.” It offers answers, belonging, and safety but gradually demands more and more of you in return. This slow erosion of autonomy is what makes it so hard to spot, and even harder to leave.
Trauma experts have spent decades studying the psychological tactics used in coercive systems and religious environments are no exception. What we now understand is that cult dynamics work by tapping into universal human needs, for connection, meaning, and security and then exploiting those needs to gain and maintain control.
Dr Janja Lalich, a sociologist who specialises in cult recovery, describes these environments as “bounded choice” systems, where members appear to have agency, but every option is actually shaped by fear, coercion, and the expectation of loyalty. Over time, your ability to choose freely is replaced by what she calls “self-sealing logic” where doubt, dissent, or deviation is reinterpreted as a moral or spiritual failure.
Let’s look at a few of the core control mechanisms trauma researchers and cult specialists identify — and how they often show up in religious spaces:
1. Trauma bonding and intermittent reinforcement
When love, approval, and care are offered inconsistently or are conditional on compliance, people become deeply attached in ways that mirror abuse cycles. This is called trauma bonding, a term popularised by Patrick Carnes. It’s when the same system (or leader) that causes you pain is also the one offering you relief. You feel pulled to stay, even when it’s hurting you, because those moments of acceptance feel so good and so rare.
In churches, this might look like:
- Being praised from the pulpit one week, and called out for rebellion the next
- Experiencing “spiritual highs” that feel euphoric, then being plunged into guilt over minor transgressions
- Leaders pulling you close, only to withdraw if you question their authority
2. Hypervigilance and fear-based obedience
As Bessel van der Kolk notes in The Body Keeps the Score, trauma teaches the body to be constantly on guard. In cultic environments, this hypervigilance is often reinforced by teachings about spiritual warfare, sin, or hell. You begin to monitor your thoughts, your behaviour, even your feelings because you are convinced that one wrong move could sever your connection with God or your community.
Over time, the body learns that safety comes not from being authentic, but from being compliant. You “obey to survive.” You override your own discomfort, shame yourself for your intuition, and internalise the belief that questioning is dangerous.
3. Loss of agency and learned helplessness
Judith Herman, in her seminal work Trauma and Recovery, explains how coercive environments often produce learned helplessness, a state where people no longer believe they can escape, or that their choices matter. Especially if spiritual leaders are positioned as the only path to truth or salvation, members may feel that they can’t leave and not just because of social consequences, but because they genuinely fear eternal punishment or being cut off from God.
This isn’t about weakness. It’s about survival. When your environment trains you to disconnect from your gut, your needs, and your instincts, helplessness becomes adaptive. It keeps you safe – until it doesn’t.
4. Isolation and control of information
Cultic systems rely on information control to maintain dominance. This might mean limiting access to “secular” media, discrediting outside perspectives, or labelling anyone who leaves as “dangerous” or “deceived.” The fewer alternative narratives you’re exposed to, the more reality becomes shaped by the group.
In many churches, this looks like:
- Censorship of certain books, music, or other media
- Framing outsiders as spiritually blind or morally corrupt
- Teaching that only the group has “real” truth, and that others are to be pitied or feared
It’s not just about what you’re told, it’s also about what you’re not allowed to consider.
I Can Hear You Asking – “So why do people stay?”
Well it’s not because they’re weak, or brainwashed, or naive, that’s for sure. It’s because cult dynamics are strategically designed to keep people in. They offer deep psychological and emotional rewards like belonging, certainty, identity, while slowly stripping away the ability to think critically, set boundaries, or imagine life outside the system.
Here’s how I put it in my own words to a friend once:
“It was like being hugged while slowly being suffocated. And when I finally gasped for air, they told me I must not love God enough.”
It’s that disorienting. And it’s why leaving can be so destabilising.
When people exit these systems, they’re often left with profound trauma, not just from the content of what they were taught, but from the ways their autonomy was chipped away, their reality distorted, and their nervous system constantly activated.
Healing from Cult-Based Religious Trauma
If you’ve left a cult-like system (or you’re in the messy middle of leaving), let me say this: I see you. And no, you’re not crazy, rebellious, or too sensitive.
Healing from this kind of trauma is slow, nuanced, and often comes in waves. It’s not just about rejecting beliefs, it’s about reclaiming your autonomy, your story, your body, your ability to trust yourself.
Some steps on the healing path might look like:
- Naming what happened — using words like “coercion,” “spiritual abuse,” or even “cult” can be incredibly validating and is a necessary part of recovery
- Rebuilding safety — physically, emotionally, relationally, and spiritually
- Working with a trauma-focused therapist — especially someone who gets religious trauma and cult recovery.
- Learning to trust your gut again — especially if it was consistently overridden by authority figures
- Exploring spirituality on your own terms — or letting go of it entirely for a season (or forever)
One of the biggest hurdles people face is self-doubt. “Was it really that bad?” “Maybe I’m just bitter.” “I don’t want to be dramatic.” But trauma isn’t measured by how extreme something looks from the outside, it’s measured by how it landed in your nervous system. And if it caused harm or wounding, then it matters.
Also? You don’t need to have a neat bow on your story, you can be messy, angry, confused, tender. You can take time to unlearn, to rage, to grieve, to laugh at how weird it all was. There’s no “right” way to recover from this kind of harm.
Moving Forward Without Minimising
So many people I work with carry this internal tug-of-war. On one hand, they know they were hurt. On the other hand, they don’t want to “dishonour” the good people they met in those spaces, or the ways they once found meaning. And I get it.
But here’s the thing: two things can be true. You can have loved parts of it and still name that it was harmful. You can have grown in some ways and still realise that growth came at a cost. Ultimately, you can have good memories and still carry trauma.
Minimising what happened doesn’t make it go away. If anything, it prolongs the healing. The more honest we are about the ways cult dynamics show up in our communities, our churches, and even our families, the more freedom we create, both for ourselves and others.
And let’s be honest: this conversation matters. Because right now, in Australia and Aotearoa/NZ and all over the world, people are still caught in high-control systems that wear the costume of church. They’re still being shamed for their sexuality, punished for asking questions, or cast out for thinking differently.
It’s not just about individual healing, it’s about collective reckoning and recovery. And it’s why the current Victorian Inquiry into the recruitment methods and impacts of cults and organised fringe groups is so important.
You Deserve to Be Free
If you’re reading this and feeling the ache of recognition, you are not alone. You are not broken and you are not behind.
Leaving cult-like systems is one of the bravest, hardest things a person can do. Especially when it costs you your identity, your family, or your spiritual foundation. But freedom, the messy, beautiful, sometimes-painful kind is worth it.
And healing isn’t about having all the answers. It’s about having the space to ask questions without fear.
- You deserve communities that honour your autonomy.
- You deserve spaces where your body is not a battleground.
- You deserve relationships built on consent, trust, and choice.
- You deserve to tell the truth about what happened without apology.
If you’re sitting with this and it’s landing a little too close to home…
You’re not alone. Unpacking the impact of cult dynamics can bring up a lot, grief, anger, confusion, and memories you may have pushed down for years. This kind of trauma is real, and it deserves to be met with care, not minimised or brushed aside.
If you’re looking for someone to sit with you in that process, you’re welcome to reach out. I offer therapy that’s trauma-focused, spiritually safe, and grounded in lived experience. Whether you’re just starting to question or deep in the unravelling, we can explore it together, at your pace, and on your terms.
You can learn more about working with me by contacting me here. You can also connect and follow along the content on my IG – @anchoredcounsellingservices