The topic is important, but the work misses the mark. Dr. Anderson, a survivor of religious trauma herself, links patient suffering to experiences in highly controlling religions, but these experiences are not currently recognized in the DSM-V or DSM-5-TR. Anderson expands her doctoral dissertation to include case studies, perhaps from her practice. However, the book's focus on Christianity limits its reach. Additionally, the text is dense and at times difficult to penetrate. While Anderson is true to her beliefs, perhaps breaking the text into two books, one a memoir and one a resource for therapists, would have been more useful.

By their fruits ye shall know them.

Thus Jesus spoke about the false prophets in Matthew 7:15-20, yet it represents the truth about any group, institution, or person. What results come from what is believed and practiced, and how those beliefs were put into practice?

It has become abundantly apparent how much of the fruit of conservative Christendom writ large over the past couple of generations has, for many, presented rotten fruit. It has not well reflected the ways of Jesus the Christ.

Such is, no doubt, because much of conservative Christendom elected to pursue a more high control, authoritarian posture as they cultivated their own subculture since the 1960s.

Granted, many have enjoyed it and would even claim to thrive in it. Yet for many others, their experience in such high control religion, especially within conservative Christendom, has been quite traumatic.

In When Religion Hurts You: Healing From Religious Trauma and the Impact of High Control Religion, Dr. Laura Anderson tells her own story of spending much of her youth and early adulthood in a high control Reformed environment, how she left that environment and pursued her career in psychiatry, and presents the results of her work in applying what has been learned about trauma and C-PTSD to those who have experienced religious trauma, especially in her own journey of healing.

The author is commended in her field because she has personal experience with Christianity and religious abuse/trauma, but does not automatically recommend or suggest for clients to abandon their faith or religious practice. She seems to continue to believe in Jesus but no longer associates with a church.

The author explores definitions of religious abuse and adverse religious experiences. She describes the human nervous system, how it functions, how it processes traumatic experiences, and thus why it responds as it does when it thinks it is about to endure another traumatic experience, and how to work to stabilize it. She considers how people can rebuild their lives and identity after having been part of something which defined so much of their lives. She encourages those who have thus suffered to better appreciate and live in their bodies. She considers how people can establish appropriate boundaries for themselves; she is quite conscious of how those who leave fundamentalism are tempted to go to excess in indulgence or manifest fundamentalism in their new perspectives and beliefs. She recognized leaving a high control religious environment will cause grief, both for the loss of relationships and associations and also for no longer having the positive things which they had enjoyed, and how to grieve them. She considers “reclaiming” sexuality and pleasure and re-establishing connections and relationships outside the high control religious context. And she is sanguine about how there will never be complete escape, and encourages people in how to endure and live well after religiously traumatic experiences.

There is much to commend in terms of helping people process religious abuse and trauma and live well afterward. Most of what she has to say would not go against what God has made known in Christ except in terms of matters of sexuality and pleasure, in which the author simply manifests the modern secular consensus of liberty as long as all can and do consent.

It’s unfortunate the book has to exist, but there has indeed been way too much authoritarianism and high-control environments in many churches professing Jesus. There has been too much fearmongering and attempts to control other people’s decisions. There has not been sufficient instruction about the distinction between maintaining firm convictions for ourselves and how we treat others. Much has been made of condemning sin, but not nearly enough has been made of condemning harsh, judgmental attitudes and spirits, the baptism of certain cultural standards and the expectation all others will comply with them, and way too much meddling in the lives of others. Likewise, the volunteer demands placed on many in churches is obscene. Laborers are worthy of their wages. Jesus is Lord, not the preacher or “pastor.” “Authority” needs to better framed in terms of shepherding, serving, and by example, and less by dictate and bluster.

There’s no reason why Christianity has to be practiced in a high-control environment or manner. The fruit of high-control Christianity has proven rotten. We do better to reflect the fruit of the Spirit in how we treat one another and better reflect Jesus. Then, perhaps, far fewer will experience religious abuse and trauma.

"When Relgion Hurts You" is a good, detailed but not-too-dense introductory book to the subject of religious trauma and healing from it. It is not a textbook, or a technical inquiry, but rather an easy-to-digest self-help guide, one might say. Though the advice is often to seek professional therapy, as the subject matter is often not something from which one can be healed without proper care.

A lot of folks don't realize their religion has hurt them until years later. The effects of religious trauma are many, and tend to come most often from high-control religions. Sadly, yet unsurprisingly, girls and women are harmed more often, due to the patriarchal systems and misogyny baked into many high control religions.

One thing the author did not do in this book was attempt to list out all of the religions that could possibly be considered "high control". This was a wise choice, as it would likely inadvertently narrow down the scope of the possible audience. Rather, Dr. Anderson points out the types of religious trauma, shows examples from her own life and her own therapy practice, and discusses the sorts of harm caused.

Importantly, Dr. Andersen lets victims (and other interested pesons) know that healing can be a lifelong affair, and that victims of religious trauma are indeed trauma victims, full stop. Just the validation of this fact may be the most important effect of reading this book. So many people feel too shameful or embarrassed of having been traumatized. We need to normalize religious trauma as another form of trauma, just as we have spent the last few decades normalizing mental health as part of an individual's overall health.

It seems like a lot of previously religious people are tossing in the towel. They're becoming areligious or anti-religious. Sometimes they walk away from settings where they cannot bring their doubts and questions to God or religious leaders. Sometimes it's because of cultish abuse, mental anguish, sexual trauma and other issues.

Anderson gives hope for healing from such traumas. She uses psychology to consider the control issues and abuse that lead to fear and lack of trust in adults and authorities. She does a good job.

I recognize much of what she writes about. My family and my husband's family grew up in a high-control ethnic church where peer pressure (on adults and children) and edicts from the pulpit were prominent. Those defined what was acceptable in theology, recreation, and clothing (hey, no jewelry but brooches; though fancy hats with feathers and other ornaments were ok).

Preachers defined and warned against interactions "with the world." Any thinking child or teen knew some of the strict prescriptions were a double standard or just made no sense. But we went along with it and carried on as a group.

However, the balance for me was that our family had a personal faith and welcomed questions. We children could ask our parent questions as long as we asked respectfully - no sassing or badmouthing. (I don't consider genuine respect for authority to be abusive; it was healthy and reassuring for kids.) My mom and dad sincerely answered with what they did and didn't know. And they encouraged my brothers and me to search the scriptures for ourselves and pray for guidance.

That worked for me. We left a lot of the cultural baggage and narrow theology behind as university students and adults.

And then we had children who grew up in the next generation of faith. We were much less restrictive but still rule-bound as "strict" parents. So our kids challenged us even more.

We did some weird stuff with dress codes. Ask my daughter about the skirts she wore over her shorts in elementary gym class - what was I thinking? By her teens, I resorted to "wear whatever's modest" for our fashionista, since living in Seattle in the 90s offered grunge clothes in dark, limp, secondhand cover-ups.

"Don't you care what your kids are wearing?" asked people at church. (Nope. "Modest enough, they're not naked," made this mama happy.)

And that happened with other things. Because our own parent allowed us to explore the faith, we gradually shed the culture and unclenched our religion. As parents ourselves, we chose the principles of Love God; Love others as more important than following religious mandates that were not in scripture.

"I hate the dumb rules," said one of our teens of the strict codes of behavior and dress in his private school. "I don't think any of this matters. And I don't want to be a hypocritical follower of Jesus by looking good and being unchanged inside like some of my classmates."

"I think you're right, but you're in a place where it matters to your teachers," I replied. "Definitely don't adopt a fake religion with an unchanged heart. Work out your faith with God ... because God is not afraid of your questions. You made a promise to obey him when you were baptized, so take up your issues with him."

So he did. And he came out not only alive, but with more questions and a thriving robust faith.

I'm sorry for those who were brutalized by abuse. I understand the pain like some of our young peers experienced without the balance of being able to ask sincere questions and develop healthy skepticism against strange old-country habits. They weren't able to assimilate truth while living with weird cultural constraints and autocratic boundaries.

If you're one of those, this book will help you heal. Just don't throw it all away because other stuff got mixed in with scripture. Don't deconstruct to the point where there are no core values left as foundations for growth and abundance.

Always remember that God's not afraid of your questions. The One whose math keeps the planets spinning and the God how hope who renews the ground isn't afraid to let you explore. He cheers your search for what's real and applauds when you leave behind what's been added to his grace, justice, and lovingkindness.

--PS The people Jesus got angry and frustrated with were religious leaders who insisted on adding their burdens to the freedom and liberty of a life with God. Check him out in the eyewitness accounts of his contemporaries in Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John.

This book is absolutely incredible. Anderson does a great job of sharing her own life story and making it accessible and understandable but not overwhelming. In addition, she writes in a way that offers compassionate understanding and steps for how to discuss this with a trained professional.

In addition, I was glad to see she references others' work and provides resources for readers. She has truly done her research.

This book is a tough one to get through because of the topic, but well worth the read. Be prepared for introspection.

Laura E. Anderson is a therapist and the co-founder of the Religious Trauma Institute. Having experienced her own religious trauma and then dealing with patients who have religious trauma compelled her to write this book, "When Religion Hurts You: Healing from Religious Trauma and the Impact of High-Control Religion." Anderson begins her book by defining trauma not as "what happened to you but your body and nervous system's response to what happened to you. Trauma is anything that is too much, too soon, or too fast and that undermines our normal ability to cope and return to a sense of safety." Anderson is very transparent when detailing the spiritual abuse she experienced and how that has lead to her own religious trauma. I appreciated how honest and open she is in her writing, as well as all the helpful advice she gives.

I especially resonated with her assertion that healing is not a destination, it's an ongoing journey. This book really spoke to me, and I think it would be incredibly helpful for anyone who has been hurt by the church. Thanks to NetGalley for the ARC. All opinions are my own.

I couldn't have found a more fitting read - as someone who has navigated the complexities of an HCR firsthand and as a social worker specializing in trauma. I've practically painted the pages of this book with highlights and am eager to secure a print copy for my professional bookshelf for easy reference. This book is a beacon of truth, offering invaluable insights for both survivors and practitioners in the field of trauma recovery!

This is a great read for folks who are healing from a high-control religion (HCR). Christians involved in evangelical spaces in the 90s/early 2000s were affected by HCRs as they have been influential in the U.S. Christian church, at large.
 
Dr. Anderson walks readers through what trauma is, what it looks like in religious settings, & markers of healing for folks recovering from fundamentalism. I appreciated her statement that religious trauma is trauma, as well as her description of the phases of HCRs gradually gaining control over folks who fall prey to them. This can lend compassion if we wonder why we/others became ensnared in these dynamics &why we/they may have had difficulty leaving.
 
Dr. Anderson explains how the nervous system works & how HCRs play on nervous system responses in order to gain control. She discusses the process of rebuilding identity after leaving HCRs, engaging in relationship with the bodies, stabilizing the nervous system, developing more flexible boundaries, learning to tolerate a “robust spectrum of emotions,” & reclaiming sexuality& pleasure.
 
This book is clear& informative. Stories of personal experiences with religious trauma are engaging. I found it helpful personally &in my role as a spiritual director.
 
A couple points of distraction for me… most of her claims seem solidly built upon research, but I wish there had been fewer instances of “I believe” & “anecdotal evidence.” Also, she refers to substitutionary penal atonement as being foundational to Christianity. While I appreciate her attention to the harm it causes, this centers white evangelical Christianity in the U.S. w/o acknowledging other historical expressions of Christianity that didn’t/don’t subscribe to this theology. That realization has been hugely important to me in healing my relationship with Christianity, so I think the distinction matters.

Overall, I highly recommend this for deconstruction folks & the people who love, lead, & minister to us.

This book will help you get a clearer perspective of your own experiences of trauma with religion. Anderson explains that not all religious trauma comes from big dramatic incidents, like sexualized violence. Even smaller, day-in and day-out circumstances can be traumatic, if they're unhealthy ones. Anderson explains that adverse religious experiences (AREs) are often common within high-control religions (HCRs).

For instance, Anderson says this about the purity culture in HCRs,

"Women are [expected] to be the gatekeepers of men’s purity of mind, heart, and body so that they do not sin. Women are taught that their bodies are dangerous; men are taught that their minds are."

It's an unhealthy extreme for both females and males.

Anderson touches on many variables throughout the book on ways religion can cause trauma, including teaching that we aren't capable of trusting ourselves. Anderson writes,

"Many HCRs teach that humans are inherently sinful, that they cannot trust themselves, and that they will never choose good on their own."

Anderson says there are many ways to begin healing from religious trauma. For starters, make sure you are meeting your basic needs.

"When a client comes in with high anxiety and stress, one of the first areas I check on is basic needs. Are they getting enough sleep? Enough food? Water? Movement? Connection to humans?"

Since trauma gets trapped in bodies, Anderson suggests we nurture our bodies for healing.

"When I love my body, when I humanize myself, I love and humanize others. This is an act of rebellion in HCRs. Loving your body opens space to love, understand, and have empathy and compassion for every other body, no matter how similar or different those bodies are from your own."

The rewards from a journey of healing are numerous. Anderson concludes her book with this encouragement:

"You will have moments of celebration as you realize how far you've come, as you inhale the present moment, and as you look around at your brilliant, messy, beautiful self and know that you are free."

I highly recommend this book.

My thanks to Netgalley and Baker Academic & Brazos Press for the review copy of When Religion Hurts You.

An excellent guide to understanding, dealing with, and healing from AREs (adverse religious experiences) and HCRs (high-control religions) and the trauma that can result. While Anderson doesn't go into extensive detail, she includes just enough of her own painful story to establish her empathy as a survivor of religious trauma. Her personal story/understanding of the issues and her professional credentials as a trauma-informed therapist come together to make a compelling and helpful read.

I received an ARC of this book from NetGalley — so glad I requested this one.

It is always interesting to me to read about people’s personal experiences especially with the church and how it has changed them in some way. Thanks for the advanced copy.

Anderson writes with compassion and she also writes in a way that’s easy to understand, especially as she gets into the clinical aspects of the subject. She doesn’t shy away from the reality that trauma is often a condition one may have to live with for the rest of their life. However, she offers ways to manage symptoms so as to ease the pain of trauma. If you are searching to ease the pain from religious trauma from a psychologically sound viewpoint, this is a handy guide to begin the process. I received a complimentary copy of this book from NetGalley. Opinions expressed in this review are completely my own.

A very important read for anyone dealing with religious trauma or who loves someone dealing with religious trauma.

I was intrigued by the title of this book. Unfortunately, I would say the majority of the population can probably point to a time when religion hurt them. My belief system is somewhat different than the author's. However, I was fascinated by everything she shared regarding PTSD and trauma, and I know that religious trauma is a very real thing. While I didn't agree with everything stated in this book, I did learn a lot, and I know by reading the material she presents here that I will have more empathy for those who have experienced religious trauma. Interestingly enough, being a Pastor's kid, I definitely could relate to some examples she gave, but never thought of situations in my life as religious trauma. I feel different about that now. I would recommend this book with the warning that you may not agree with everything, but you will walk away having learned something.

I received an ARC copy of this book through NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.

Summary: High-control religious communities can create harm, but there are ways to move toward health

Harm from religious communities and individuals is not a new concept. However, recent increased attention to sexual abuse within the Protestant church and earlier public Catholic cases has drawn attention to the ways that church government and church systems can foster abuse of all sorts. Laura Anderson is primarily writing to help people recover from high-control religious communities, but there are principles here that are broader than that.

Anderson is not avoiding the term trauma (it is in the subtitle), but she is also trying to suggest that there are different levels of harm and that the response to that harm can be different. Two people can grow up and experience the same home, but one can be traumatized by practices that are not traumatizing to the other, even if the practices were applied to both. Part of the difficulty is that the word trauma has shifting meanings, so a more general "harm" can be helpful to apply to more than just legally documented abuse.

One of my takeaways from When Religion Hurts You is that high-control religious communities control as a means of protection and mission. There are evil people who are trying to control people and build their power for their own selfish purposes. But I think more often, people are attempting to help others and fulfill the church's mission from their perspective. This happens by setting up boundaries to prevent harm, which becomes rigid rules that can themselves become harmful.

There are more than several stories of people who experienced the world and tried to protect others from the harm they experienced. My grandmother was firmly against alcohol because she grew up the child of an alcoholic. Others have sexual experiences outside of marriage (consensual or not) and then attempt to protect others by creating rules around sexuality, not to harm others but to protect them. Another common example is that people who were badly parented often do not have parenting skills by example and turn to high-control religious groups to give them tools to combat the bad parenting they experienced previously.

I am not trying to blame victims of trauma or religious harm but explain that in many cases, those who are drawn to high-control religious communities are either trying to address the harm that was done to them or trying to prevent others from the harm that they experienced by their own choices. Another way of saying this is that people can be drawn to high-control religious communities as a trauma response.

I say this because, in many cases, those who are trying to leave high-control religious communities are not very different from those who remain or those who are drawn in. However, I believe that those who heal may have a ripple effect at helping to bring about healing or at least changing patterns for future generations. (I think it is common for people to be drawn from one high-control religious community to another, religious or not.)

Laura Anderson is writing from the perspective of a person healing from religious harm and as a therapist who works with people who have had religious harm. Her story is an integral part of the book. Part of what I appreciate about her clear voice in the book is that she is attempting to moderate the tendency of pendulum reactions. There is a chapter on sexuality and purity culture. Purity culture was a pendulum response to the sexual revolution. And in some cases, people who are leaving purity culture will tend to pendulum swing again. The advice throughout the book about moving toward health in ways that avoid pendulum swings is very helpful. Although there are places where I think I would give different advice, I understand the reasoning behind her advice and understand that different perspectives will result in different advice.

I highlighted many long sections, and I do not want to have a quote-heavy review. But I do want to touch on a couple of ideas that were helpful to me. Throughout the book, there was an orientation toward health and movement, but also a moderation of expectations because healing is not so much a goal of perfection as a movement toward more health than what you have right now. Part of what Anderson is reminding us is that in high-control religious communities, there is often an orientation toward heaven and how good things will be in the future to distract from the fact that many high-control religious communities have little to offer right now. There is often an emphasis on suffering, and that can encourage living in pain instead of movement toward healing.

There is also a good discussion of what trauma is and how it is a
"subjective, perspective, and physiological response to a person, place, or things that overwhelms the nervous system's natural capacity to cope. Practically, this means that trauma is in the eye of the beholder. What is traumatic for one person may not be traumatic for another, and the body may experience trauma as a result of either real or a perceived one....This means that trauma is determined by one's response rather than by a particular person, place, or things." (italics in the original.)

I also appreciate that her space for the variations between harm, abuse, and trauma means that we still need to pay attention to the harm, even if it does not feel as large as someone else's harm. That harm will generate a response:
"If our nervous system determines that we can't fight or flee, it moves to fawning or freezing response. A person with a fawning response lives in a state of needing to please, appease or submit to avoid danger or punishment; a person with a freezing response often dissociates, becoming, small, silent, and a nonparticipant in their life. It only takes a couple of attempts at fighting or fleeing to realize that it's safer to fawn or freeze."

It has long been discussed that a number of saints of old seem to suffer from depression, scrupulosity, trauma, or other mental illnesses. God can work through people who are suffering and not healed. But there are also maladaptations to religious practices as Laura Winner explores. The ability to suffer in the face of harm may be just a trauma response, not a calling. Particularly in high-control religious communities, suffering and submission can be overvalued.
"Many victims believe that if they could submit more, repent more, serve more, sin less, or become a stronger believer, then life might go back to the way it was. Additionally, HCRs often teach a certain expectation of suffering, that suffering and difficulty are God's way of testing and refining a person. When life gets difficult, it is not uncommon for members to see the difficulties as spiritually beneficial."

There is far more in the book than what I can grapple with here. There are two final corallaries.
"I believe fundamentalism is a coping mechanism to deal with a dysregulated nervous system. As we saw in chapter 4, we know that humans thrive on what is familiar. This is why people and ideas that are different may seem dangerous and why an overactive SNS [sympathetic nervous system] triggers a fight or flight response. In those moments our nervous system is trying to figure out what will help us calm down and feel safe again. Fundamentalism helps with that: it gives specific, orderly, binary, prescriptive ways of engaging with life."

As much as I am convinced by her point in trying to find an explanatory reason for the tendency toward highly controlled religious communities. That being said, I am even more convinced that healthy Christian communities must be marked by diversity and healthy discernment (which will sometimes result in differences of opinion). Discipleship in these communities much be concentrated on helping people to seek God's direction for them and freedom to follow that. I am not naive enough to think that this will be easy or fully realized. But as much as Anderson is explaining, her point is that a healthy Christian community doesn't act like the high-control fundamentalism of her history.

This is why I am committed to spiritual direction and discernment as two (fallible) tools to help us move in the right direction.

I was glad to find a book that gets in depth about the trauma that religious systems can cause and doesn’t mince words. Most of the book was very relatable to me and her detailed stories validated many things that I’ve dealt with over the years.

Thanks to NetGalley and Brazos Press for an ARC of this book.

Thank you for the fantastic opportunity to read this book. It was beautifully written, and I'm delighted that this resource exists. What a gift it is to the wounded who are looking for ways to heal together.

When Religion Hurts You deals with the psychological (and sometimes physical) issues that happen when church culture is extreme, misogynistic, or even cult-like. Laura E. Anderson looks at the trauma from the church in the latest scientific terms. This is the first I have read of the idea of PTSD being related to church but it is not wrong and I commend the author on making religious trauma a certain kind of psychological practice. The only issue is that I saw no new way to handle PTSD that hasn't been used before in other areas.
That being said, I recommended this to a friend. He bought it and (with a therapist) has begun to work through his own issues,

As someone who has dealt with religion/church hurt like Dr. Anderson discusses in her incredible book, I do not know that I can remain impartial in my review. What I can say is that while I was hesitant to read a book that addresses my lived experiences as I was concerned I would be triggered, this was not the case. I found Dr. Anderson's writing and care for those who have been hurt to be healing. The book helped put to words many things I felt but had not been able to express. I will be thinking on this one for a while and will likely need to read again at least once more to fully grasp everything. Thank you, Dr. Anderson, for you work and this book!

As someone who has personal and professional experience working with the impact of religious trauma and spiritual abuse, I have been following the work of Dr. Laura Anderson, psychotherapist and co-founder of the Religious Trauma Institute, for years now. When I saw she was releasing a book, I immediately signed up to be part of the launch team. The book, When Religion Hurts You: Healing from Religious Trauma and the Impact of High-Control Religion, released to the public on October 17. I knew this book would be good, but it exceeded my expectations and I have already been recommending it to clients, colleagues, and friends.

Anderson’s book skillfully and smoothly weaves together her own story of healing from complex trauma (including religious trauma), qualitative data from her work with therapy clients who have experienced religious trauma, and the most up-to-date research in the field. She emphasizes that trauma healing is an ongoing process, not an endpoint (and that many people coming out of High Control Religions (HCRs) have to rewire their brains from what evangelicalism taught them about heaven and life on earth in order to embrace this). Her tone throughout the book is that of a well-informed expert in her field, but is never patronizing or arrogant. Most of the content in the book is accessible to a layperson, unlike some other well-known books on trauma that are written more like PhD-level textbooks. This book would be helpful for anyone trying to understand the impact of growing up in a HCR, whether it was their own experience or someone else’s. Dr. Anderson provides clear definitions for many of the buzzwords going around the internet/social media related to trauma and explains in a non-judgmental way how and why HCRs impact individuals long after the individual may have left the HCR environment.

When Religion Hurts You is well-organized and broken down into chapters grouped by content/themes. I’d recommend reading this book in sections, not all at once, as there is a lot of information to take in as well as a deep emotional impact of reading the stories in it. The first few chapters explain why and how she came to do the work she does now, including her own experiences leaving a HCR, the history and current context for trauma research and specifically religious trauma research, and the components of the self that are affected by complex trauma including cognitive beliefs and the nervous system. Later in the book she includes brief exercises that readers can try in order to move towards nervous system regulation, embodiment, and self-trust.

As someone with personal experience growing up in a HCR, I appreciate the nuance, respect, and thoughtfulness that Anderson displays throughout the book. In the chapter on grief, she notes that after leaving a HCR there are many things to grieve, including: childhood, education, sexuality, view of others/the world, and the good, because not all parts of HCR communities are bad. The following chapter appropriately discusses the importance of developing a “robust spectrum of emotions” because HCRs tend to discourage any intense emotions, or only encourage positive ones. The chapters on sexuality and pleasure and establishing healthy relationships with others explain how and why HCRs impact people in these areas of life as well as provide guidance on how to heal them. She concludes by referencing the work of my personal favorite trauma therapist, Dr. Janina Fisher, who talks about the “living legacy of trauma” and how we can integrate the parts of ourselves as we are, triggers and wounds and grief and all.

I’ll close this review with one of my favorite passages from the book:

“This is what healing is all about — the process. Perhaps this year or next year or ten more years down the road my body will no longer respond to trauma-versaries, but that is no longer my goal. I have lived far too much of my life with the end goal of eternal life in heaven, and so I missed a lot of life on earth. These days, even in the dark, difficult, and painful moments, I let my body take the space that I need to come back home to myself. I give myself many moments to reflect and to celebrate how far I have come.”