WHEN TELLING THE TRUTH came at the Cost of belonging

A lot of women aren’t “deconstructing” because they want to rebel or walk away from God. They’re doing it because they finally stopped lying to themselves.

They were told God was loving, yet watched love be used as leverage.
They were told submission was beautiful, yet slowly felt themselves disappear.
They were told their pain was sanctifying, yet never saw it lead to healing.

So they started asking questions.

Quiet ones at first.
The kind you only whisper to yourself.
The kind you pray over, journal through, and hope will resolve if you just try harder.

But the questions didn’t go away — they got louder.

Not because these women hate God, but because they no longer recognize Him in what they were taught. And what’s heartbreaking is how quickly the church often labels this as pride, bitterness, or rebellion — as if noticing harm is the real sin, and silence is faithfulness.

Leaving a system like that is not easy.

It means grieving more than beliefs.
It means grieving community.
Identity.
Belonging.
Safety.
The version of yourself who stayed because you were told endurance was holiness.

And perhaps the most painful part is this: being misunderstood while you’re already breaking.

There is a unique kind of grief that comes from telling the truth about harm and watching people you love defend the system that wounded you. From being told you’re “confused,” “emotional,” or “led astray” when what you’re actually doing is listening — to your body, your spirit, your discernment.

It’s isolating to realize that those who benefited from your silence may never recognize the cost of it.

But faith isn’t pretending something is good when it’s harming you.
Obedience isn’t surrendering discernment.
Love does not require self-betrayal.

Most of us didn’t lose our faith.
We lost a version of it that couldn’t survive honesty.

And that loss hurts.

Because leaving often means walking away without closure, without validation, without being believed. It means choosing integrity over approval, clarity over comfort, and truth over belonging.

That choice will cost you.
But it will also return you to yourself.

This isn’t a lost soul or a rebellious woman.
This is someone who refused to keep shrinking in the name of devotion.
This is someone brave enough to believe that God is not threatened by questions, truth, or healing.

This is not deconstruction as destruction.
This is deconstruction as discernment.
As courage.
As coming home.

Sarah (White) Alexander, Certified Grief and Trauma Coach, specializing in emotional abuse and betrayal trauma. Follow me on Facebook and Instagram for more support.

@echoesofherbravery