Friendship holds a unique, sacred place in our lives—a sanctuary for acceptance, laughter, and companionship. But when religious beliefs bring the phrase ‘love the sinner, hate the sin’ into the picture, that sacred space can suddenly feel less safe, less accepting, less real. For LGBTQIA+ individuals, it can be a loaded reminder of conditional love and the quiet grief of losing friendships that once felt unconditional.
Understanding “Love the Sinner, Hate the Sin”: A Loaded Phrase
The phrase ‘love the sinner, hate the sin’ is often spoken with an air of goodwill. For those on the receiving end, it rarely feels like love. The conditionality implied is palpable. One’s worth is under review, contingent upon a rejection of parts of oneself that others deem sinful. But we know that love cannot be truly experienced where rejection is the price of entry. This tension—loving someone but rejecting their very identity—is often a fracture point in relationships.
For many, this phrase has been applied to queerness, gender identity, or even life decisions that fall outside religious doctrines. Behind the words is an implicit message that one’s core self is unacceptable, something to be fixed or repented. It’s not just a phrase; it’s a statement that some people’s friendships come with invisible strings attached.
The Grief of Lost Friendships and the Loss of Acceptance
When friendships start to erode because of fundamental differences in belief, it’s a specific, painful kind of loss. You’re not just losing a friend; you’re losing someone who knew you, perhaps from childhood or through a significant chapter of life. For LGBTQIA+ individuals, the impact of ‘love the sinner, hate the sin’ can land particularly hard. It becomes a form of rejection that feels deeply personal and existential.
This loss is more than losing company; it’s the sudden absence of someone who, at one time, you thought would always be there to accept and support you. These friendships may have been there for late-night confessions, heartbreak, and laughter. They may have walked with you through the rituals of life. So when that love is withdrawn or heavily qualified, it can leave an aching gap, a chasm that words alone can’t fill. And the grief is often complicated, layered with love, anger, confusion, and longing for a different outcome.
Conditional Love vs. Authentic Friendship: Navigating the Internal Conflict
A defining feature of these strained relationships is the emergence of conditional love. There’s an expectation that you conform, change, or hide parts of yourself in exchange for acceptance. This often leads to an internal conflict. Do you maintain the friendship at the expense of your authenticity, or do you let go and grieve? The choice is agonising. It’s a clash between longing for connection and the realisation that connection has become a transaction. A balance of acceptance weighted by judgment.
In these moments, there’s also a painful awareness of authenticity and integrity. Trying to stay in a friendship where you must mask or minimise your identity can be exhausting. You become hyper-aware of what you say, trying not to give away too much of yourself in fear of sparking conflict or feeling the sting of judgment. Over time, it becomes harder to ignore the sense that this relationship is draining more than it’s giving, that it’s becoming a weight rather than a refuge.
The Hidden Grief of Outgrowing Relationships
When people say “grief,” most imagine death, or a concrete end to a relationship. But there’s a subtler grief that comes from outgrowing relationships that once felt like home. It’s the grief of change and self-affirmation—the sorrow of leaving behind friendships that no longer serve or accept who you truly are. For many who have left faith-based communities, this grief comes as a silent companion on the journey of self-discovery.
What complicates this grief is the persistent hope that the relationship could evolve, that maybe, given time, the other person will see you for who you are and not through the lens of dogma. It’s a grief mixed with hope, and that combination is a uniquely heavy burden to carry. Every message left unread, every interaction cut short, is another reminder of what was once shared and how fragile it has become.
Healing and Moving Forward: Reclaiming Your Right to Boundaries
Moving forward after these losses is not about dismissing the friendships as unimportant or letting resentment take root; it’s about honouring your need for boundaries and emotional safety. There’s strength in recognising that conditional love is not enough, that real friendships are not transactions. Accepting that it’s okay to let go is a hard-won realisation but a liberating one.
The process of moving forward involves mourning but also a reclamation of your right to choose relationships that nurture rather than diminish you. As you begin to heal, you learn to fill the spaces left behind with people who celebrate, rather than tolerate, who you are. This new sense of community may come slowly, but it will be more nourishing than any relationship that asked you to be less than your full self.
Building New Friendships on a Foundation of Acceptance
The beautiful irony is that once you allow yourself to grieve and make room for genuine connection, you often discover that true acceptance can feel incredibly different. Real friendships don’t ask you to contort yourself into shapes that fit someone else’s comfort zone. They allow for mutual growth and authenticity, where differences are met with curiosity rather than judgment. In this kind of friendship, the notion of ‘love the sinner, hate the sin’ has no place because love is not built on judgments, conditions, or requirements.
The journey through conditional love and lost friendships is often long and winding, but it reveals a wellspring of resilience. By allowing yourself to grieve and let go, you also reclaim your power—the power to be authentic, to set boundaries, and to choose the relationships that enrich rather than deplete you. And that’s no small thing. In reclaiming this space, you not only honour the friendships that have ended but also the version of yourself who survived them.
If you’ve experienced the heartbreak of conditional love or lost friendships due to judgment, know that you’re not alone. Grieving these relationships is a profound act of self-respect, and moving forward is a journey that deserves compassion and support.
Ready to explore more about healing from conditional relationships? Whether it’s unpacking grief, rebuilding self-worth, or setting healthy boundaries, reach out for resources and support. Healing is possible, and you’re worth connections that honour every part of who you are. Let’s walk this path together. Reach Out!