Why You Still Feel Like the Bad One: Original Sin and the Shame That Won’t Let Go

During my time in high-control religion, I tried really hard to do all the things a “good Christian” was supposed to do—read my Bible, pray, confess my sins, repent, rinse and repeat. I genuinely wanted to please God. I wanted to be faithful, obedient, and “right” in his eyes. But no matter how much I did, I often felt like I was just one step away from disappointing him.

I remember one afternoon when I decided to go on a solo hike to spend intentional time in prayer. I had heard countless sermons about how God speaks through nature, so I figured if I could get alone in his creation, I might feel his presence more closely—or at the very least, hear his voice more clearly. I packed my Bible, my journal, a few snacks, and the usual weight of all my spiritual striving, and set off down the trail.

As I walked, a verse of Scripture popped into my mind. At the time, I believed God himself had placed it there. It felt like a holy moment—like he was revealing something I needed to deal with. So I stopped, sat on a rock, and asked him to show me what needed refining.

After a few minutes of intense self-examination, a memory surfaced: I remembered feeling jealous when a friend got a promotion recently that I had quietly hoped for. I hadn’t told anyone about it—I had smiled and said all the right things—but underneath, I was disappointed and upset that I hadn’t been the one to get it.

So I confessed it. I named the jealousy, asked for forgiveness, and hoped to feel relieved or at least a little closer to God.

But instead of peace, I felt shame.

How could I be so selfish? Why couldn’t I just be happy for her?

And more than anything, I felt tired. Spiritually and emotionally exhausted. I remember thinking…

Does this refining process ever end?

Looking back, I realize now that I was stuck in a cycle that was never designed to bring healing. It wasn’t spiritual growth—it was spiritual self-surveillance. I was endlessly examining myself for flaws, finding new proof that I was the problem.

It’s like walking through a house you’ve been told is haunted—every creak, every shadow becomes confirmation that it is inhabited by ghosts. The fear isn’t in the house itself. It’s in what you were trained to expect.

And if you were taught to believe that you are fundamentally bad, that your heart is deceitful, or that your desires are sinful, you’ll always find something wrong with yourself—whether it’s there or not.

Original Sin and the Lie of Inherent Badness

If you grew up in high-control religion, chances are you were taught the doctrine of original sin: the belief that all humans are born sinful, broken, or corrupt at their core. Even before you could walk or talk, you were told you needed saving—from yourself.

This theology tells you that sin isn’t just something you do—it’s something you ARE. It’s your default. Your baseline.  According to this belief, before you ever made a single decision, you were already considered guilty. Already condemned. Already in need of redemption.

For many of us, this message was embedded in early childhood. Maybe you were told that your temper tantrum as a toddler was evidence of a sinful heart. That your curiosity was rebellion. That your tears were manipulation. That your desire for attention was pride.

When kids are taught that their natural, developmentally appropriate emotions are sinful, they don’t stop feeling those emotions—they just start feeling ashamed of them. And over time, that shame doesn’t stay separate from who they are. It becomes their identity.

So even after you leave the church, or start to deconstruct, that deep-seated sense of defectiveness doesn’t just disappear. Because the wound wasn’t just theological. It was emotional. Neurological. Psychological.

Shame Isn’t Just a Side Effect—It’s a Strategy

Here’s the hard truth: High-control religious systems don’t just tolerate shame. They depend on it. Shame is the fuel that keeps the machine running.

If you believe you’re inherently bad, you’re much easier to control. You’re more likely to doubt your own judgment, suppress your needs, ignore your boundaries, and obey without question. You’re more likely to defer to religious authority—even when it harms you. You're more likely to stay quiet when something feels off, because maybe you’re the problem.

Shame convinces you that your discomfort is proof of disobedience. That your questions are proof of rebellion. That your trauma is the result of your own lack of faith.

And even after you leave, that shame continues to echo. It shows up in the way you talk to yourself. In how you handle conflict. In how you navigate relationships. In the guilt you feel when you rest. In the anxiety you feel when you take up space.

You might catch yourself apologizing constantly. Overexplaining. Second-guessing your motives. Feeling guilty for simply existing.

This isn’t because you’re “too sensitive.” It’s because shame was hardwired into your development.

So What Do You Do With All That Shame?

If any of this resonates with you, first let me say this clearly: You are not the bad one. You never were.

The shame you carry isn’t evidence of your sinfulness—it’s evidence of the system that taught you to distrust yourself. And healing from that shame takes time, intention, and so much compassion.

Here are a few ways that healing might begin:

• Learning to name and feel your emotions without judgment
  Emotions are not sins. They’re signals. And you’re allowed to feel them without labeling them as “wrong” or “bad.”

• Questioning the automatic guilt you feel when you set boundaries or say no
  Guilt doesn’t always mean you’ve done something wrong. Sometimes it means you’re doing something new.

• Practicing self-compassion, even when you don’t think you deserve it
  You don’t have to earn rest, joy, or gentleness. Those aren’t rewards for holiness—they’re human needs.

• Reclaiming your agency, intuition, and voice
  You are allowed to trust yourself. You are allowed to listen to your own inner wisdom. That’s not rebellion—it’s restoration.

You Deserve to Feel Whole

Religious trauma can make it incredibly difficult to trust yourself, feel safe in your own body, or believe you’re worthy of love and belonging. But you are. You always have been.

• You deserve to feel good about who you are.

• You deserve to live free from shame.

• You deserve to stop apologizing for your existence.

Therapy can be a powerful space to begin unlearning shame and reconnecting with the parts of you that were never broken—just buried.

If you're looking for a therapist who understands the nuances of religious trauma, spiritual abuse, purity culture, and high-control religion, I’d love to support you. I'm currently accepting new clients in California, Florida, and Missouri.

Click below to request a free 15-minute consultation call.