Leaving a High-Control Religion Together: How Couples Can Heal Side by Side

Leaving a high-control religion is never simple. For many, it’s one of the hardest, most life-altering journeys they’ll ever walk. When a couple chooses to leave together, the process can feel both grounding and overwhelming. On one hand, you have your partner by your side, someone who knows the language, the culture, and the unspoken rules you’ve both lived under. On the other, you’re now faced with rebuilding life, identity, and even your relationship outside of that system.

Through approaches like somatic couples therapy, couples therapists and religious trauma experts alike remind us that leaving isn’t only about walking away from beliefs. It’s about disentangling your heart, your body, and your sense of self from years—sometimes decades—of indoctrination, control, and shame. Healing together as partners adds another layer: you’re not just figuring out who you are outside of religion, you’re also discovering who you are together in this new space of freedom.

In this blog, we’ll explore how couples can support one another as they heal side by side after leaving a high-control religion. We’ll draw from attachment theory, emotionally focused therapy, Internal Family Systems, and insights from experts in cult recovery and religious trauma. Along the way, I’ll share practical tools and real-life examples (fictionalized to protect confidentiality) to help you and your partner navigate this path with compassion, curiosity, and hope.

What Do We Mean by “High-Control Religion”?

High-control religions—sometimes called fundamentalist, authoritarian, or high-demand groups—often share common traits. They tend to:

• Limit outside information or relationships.
  
  

• Enforce rigid rules about gender, sexuality, family roles, and lifestyle.
  

• Punish questioning or doubt.
  

• Use fear, shame, or guilt as motivators for obedience.
  

• Present themselves as the “only truth,” making leaving feel like betrayal or eternal loss.

Experts like Steven Hassan (author of Combating Cult Mind Control) note that these systems thrive on cutting people off from their own inner compass. For couples, this means that even intimacy and decision-making in the relationship often get filtered through the religious framework rather than through authentic personal or shared values.

When couples step out of these environments, they face the double task of reclaiming individual freedom and reimagining partnership without control, coercion, or external scripts telling them who they “should” be.

The Emotional Landscape of Leaving Together

Leaving a high-control religion can bring up a storm of emotions—grief, anger, confusion, relief, and joy, sometimes all at once. When partners are walking this path together, these emotions don’t always line up in neat harmony.

For example:

• One partner may feel deep grief for a lost community, while the other feels more anger at betrayal by leaders.
  

• One may be eager to explore new identities and experiences, while the other wants to move slowly, seeking safety in familiar rhythms.
  

• Old fears—like “If I question too much, I’ll be abandoned”—can get triggered in the relationship itself.
  

This is where couples therapy research helps. Sue Johnson, founder of Emotionally Focused Therapy (EFT), reminds us that at the root of most relationship struggles are two questions: Are you there for me? and Can I depend on you? When you’ve both left a religion that demanded absolute certainty, these questions may feel even more tender.

Healing side by side means learning how to answer these questions with honesty, care, and reassurance—even when you’re not experiencing the same emotions at the same time.

The Weight of Grief and Fear

Leaving together doesn’t just mean stepping away from Sunday services or rituals. It means changing the foundation of what held you both for years. This is a seismic shift, and with it comes real grief.

Grief shows up as tears, as silence, as exhaustion, as longing. Couples often tell me, “We thought we’d feel only relief, but instead we feel like we’re grieving a death.” And in a way, you are—the death of certainty, the loss of an identity that once felt safe, even if it also brought harm or pressure.

Alongside grief sits fear. Fear that you’ve made the wrong decision. Fear of losing family or community. Fear of being cast adrift without a map. For couples, there’s also fear that your partner might not stay on the same page—that one day you’ll look up and realize you’re moving in different directions.

These fears are normal. They are not signs that you’ve failed in your leaving. They are signs that the choice you’ve made is big and brave. Grief and fear often walk hand in hand when we step into the unknown.

Vignette: Lily and Matt

Lily and Matt left a high-demand evangelical church together. Lily felt liberated almost immediately, excited to read books she never could before. Matt, however, spiraled into doubt and depression, grieving the loss of his role as a respected leader. For months, their marriage felt like a tug-of-war: Lily pushing forward, Matt pulling back. With support, they learned to validate one another’s pace. Lily stopped seeing Matt’s grief as a threat to progress, and Matt learned to celebrate Lily’s curiosity rather than resenting it. Slowly, their different responses became complementary instead of divisive.

Vulnerability in Naming the First Doubts

One of the most tender parts of this journey is the moment one partner first names their doubts. To say, “I’m not sure I believe this anymore,” or “I think we need to step away,” is profoundly vulnerable.

Inside high-control religion, doubt is often treated as betrayal. Questioning can bring punishment, shame, or even expulsion. So when you bring that doubt to your partner, it can feel like holding a live wire in your hands. What if they reject me? What if I lose them? What if I ruin everything?

That fear is real. And yet, in so many relationships, that brave moment of honesty becomes the beginning of deeper intimacy. By naming what feels impossible to name, you invite your partner into the most authentic part of you—the part seeking truth, safety, and freedom.

Vignette: James and Nicole

James was the first in his marriage to voice doubt about their conservative church. For months, he carried silent anxiety, terrified that telling Nicole would end their relationship. When he finally said the words, “I don’t think I can do this anymore,” tears poured down his face. Nicole was stunned. At first she felt angry—how could he pull the rug out from under their marriage? But in time, she saw James’s vulnerability as a gift. His honesty created space for her to explore her own quiet doubts. Naming the fear together became the start of their healing.

How Change Feels Inside the Couple Bond

Shifting away from religion isn’t just about personal belief—it’s about the bond between you and your partner. Couples often say, “It feels like we’re remodeling our house while still living inside it.” The foundation is being dug up, the walls are being reimagined, and yet you’re still trying to eat dinner, raise kids, and pay bills in the middle of it all.

Stan Tatkin, who writes about couples as “secure functioning systems,” teaches that partnerships thrive when both people feel like they’re on the same team. Leaving religion can temporarily make it feel like you’re on opposite sides. If one partner questions while the other clings to what’s familiar, both may feel abandoned. One thinks, “Why can’t you leap with me?” The other thinks, “Why are you tearing down the safety we’ve built?”

It takes courage to pause in those moments and remember: you are not each other’s enemy. The real challenge is not your partner—it’s the weight of conditioning, grief, and fear pressing in on your bond. The work is learning how to hold each other while the ground beneath you shifts.

The Terror of Being the First to Change

Naming change is one of the scariest acts in a relationship, especially when that change challenges the framework that shaped your love story. It may feel like betrayal to admit, “I don’t believe this anymore.” You may worry you’re shattering your partner’s world—or losing them.

But love grows in honesty, not in silence. Esther Perel reminds us that relationships are living systems. To love someone is to allow change, even when that change feels terrifying. When you voice what is stirring in you, you give your partner the gift of knowing the real you, not just the version of you that keeps the peace.

Holding Each Other in the Storm

To leave religion as a couple is to stand in the middle of a storm, clinging to each other while the winds of grief, fear, and vulnerability swirl around you. Some days you’ll feel strong and steady; other days you’ll feel like you might be blown apart. That’s normal. Healing is not a straight path—it’s a series of circles, spirals, and steps forward and back.

What matters most is not whether you feel the same things at the same time, but whether you stay connected as you move through them. Can you reach for each other when fear rises? Can you validate grief even when you don’t feel it yourself? Can you celebrate courage when your partner speaks their truth, even if it scares you?

These questions—asked gently, again and again—become an anchor for couples navigating the emotional landscape of leaving together.

Grieving What You Lost

One of the first steps in healing is allowing space for grief. High-control religions often take more than just belief—they can take community, family bonds, cultural identity, and even your sense of self.

For couples, this grief can be complex. You may grieve together over the holidays you can no longer celebrate with extended family. You may grieve separately—one mourning lost friendships, the other mourning lost certainty.

Case Example:

Marcus and Eli grew up in the same conservative church. When they left, Marcus felt devastated by losing his close-knit friend group, while Eli felt only relief, ready to move forward. For months, they misunderstood each other: Marcus thought Eli was being cold, while Eli thought Marcus was “stuck.” In therapy, they learned to validate both experiences: Marcus needed Eli’s presence in his grief, and Eli needed Marcus to see his relief as a form of resilience, not detachment.

Practical Step:

Make time to name your losses. Sit together and write down the things you each miss, however big or small. Then read them to each other, not to fix or debate, but simply to witness. Grief softens when it’s shared.

Reclaiming Identity—Individually and Together

High-control religions often blur the line between self and system. Many people leave with questions like: Who am I without these rules? or What do I actually believe? For couples, this becomes a dual journey: each person reclaiming their individual identity, while also discovering what their relationship looks like without the old scripts.

Recovery from high-control religion often involves rebuilding a sense of autonomy. For couples, autonomy doesn’t mean distance—it means supporting one another’s freedom to grow, change, and discover, without fear that these changes will threaten the relationship. When partners encourage each other’s unfolding identities, they create space for deeper authenticity and connection.

Case Example:

Sara and Maya left a fundamentalist church that taught strict gender roles. As they built a new life, Maya realized she wanted to explore her career passions, while Sara discovered her love for activism. At first, they worried that “growing apart” was inevitable. Instead, therapy helped them see that embracing individual growth could actually make their partnership stronger. They began celebrating each other’s self-discovery, weaving their new passions into shared values.

Practical Step:

Create a “Freedom List.” Each of you writes down things you’d like to try, explore, or rediscover now that you’re outside of the high-control environment. Then, share them. Some you may try together, others individually. Either way, affirm each other’s exploration.

Navigating Religious Trauma Responses

Religious trauma often shows up in the body and nervous system. Trauma experts like Bessel van der Kolk (The Body Keeps the Score) and Peter Levine (Somatic Experiencing) remind us that trauma is stored not just in memory but in the body’s survival responses.

For couples leaving high-control religion, triggers might include:

• Fear or guilt when breaking a former “rule” (e.g., drinking alcohol, missing a service).
  
  

• Shame around sexuality or intimacy.

• Hypervigilance about being judged.
  
  

• Difficulty trusting inner intuition.
  
  

When these responses surface, couples may accidentally trigger each other. For example, if one partner wants to skip a family religious gathering, the other may feel a panic response rooted in old fears of being “rebellious.”

Practical Step:

Learn each other’s trauma cues. Instead of assuming your partner’s reaction is about you, remember it may be an echo of religious conditioning. Develop a shared language for naming when you’re triggered—like saying “old voice” or “that’s my body remembering.” This helps you stand together against the trauma, not against each other.

Relearning How to Talk About Sex

Sexuality is one of the areas most impacted by high-control religion. Many couples leave carrying shame, fear, or limited experience. Some may have avoided sex altogether before marriage, while others may have learned to disconnect from desire to stay “pure.”

Experts like Tina Schermer Sellers (Sex, God, and the Conservative Church) highlight how purity culture creates deep wounds in intimacy. Couples healing together need space to unlearn shame and to build a healthier, more connected sexual relationship.

Case Example:

John and Rachel left an evangelical background. Though married for years, both carried shame about sex. They rarely talked about it, afraid of judgment. In therapy, they began slowly naming what felt safe, what felt uncomfortable, and what they longed for. With time, they built a new sexual script—one rooted in curiosity, consent, and joy rather than fear and obligation.

Practical Step:

Start small. Create “non-sexual intimacy nights” where the goal is simply to explore closeness—like holding each other, sharing fantasies, or even reading about sex-positive perspectives together. Over time, this builds safety for deeper exploration.

Creating New Traditions

When you leave a high-control religion, the calendar can feel empty. Holidays, weekly gatherings, and rituals once gave structure to life. Now, couples often ask: What do we do with birthdays, holidays, or Sundays?

While this can feel disorienting, it’s also an opportunity to create new traditions—ones that reflect your values, joy, and authenticity.

Case Example:

Alex and Jordan left a strict sect that celebrated no holidays. After leaving, they felt unsure how to mark milestones. Together, they decided to start a yearly “freedom day” on the anniversary of their leaving. They bake a cake, write letters to their future selves, and spend the day doing something new. This ritual became a cherished celebration of their shared courage.

Practical Step:

Pick one day to ritualize. It could be a holiday you reinvent (like a more inclusive Christmas), or a new one you create (like “freedom day”). What matters is marking your life together in ways that bring meaning and joy.

Rebuilding Trust in Community

One of the hardest parts of leaving high-control religion is rebuilding trust in people outside of it. Many couples feel isolated, unsure how to connect with family, old friends, or new communities.

Religious trauma healing often requires finding safe, supportive spaces where your story is honored—not minimized or judged. For couples, this means learning together how to set boundaries with harmful relationships and how to risk new connections at a pace that feels right.

Practical Step:

Try seeking community in low-stakes ways. Join a local book club, volunteer for a cause you care about, or attend a support group for religious trauma survivors. Go together at first if it helps. Over time, you’ll rebuild a sense that the world outside the religion can be safe and life-giving.

Supporting Each Other Through Family Tension

For many couples, leaving religion also means navigating strained family relationships. Families may pressure you to return, guilt you for leaving, or cut off contact. These conflicts can strain your relationship if you’re not aligned.

Case Example:
Nina and Carlos left their church together, but Carlos’s parents continued inviting them to services, while Nina’s parents stopped speaking to her entirely. Carlos felt torn between loyalty to his family and loyalty to Nina. Therapy helped them clarify their shared boundaries and practice supportive language, like Carlos telling his parents: “We’re not attending, and I need you to respect that choice for both of us.”

Practical Step:
Decide together what boundaries you need with family. Then, commit to backing each other up. Even if one of you feels less hurt by family comments, showing solidarity strengthens your bond.

The Role of Couples Therapy

Many couples find that therapy offers a safe container for this healing. Couples therapists trained in religious trauma, trauma-informed and queer-affirming approaches can help couples:

• Process grief and anger without judgment.

• Relearn intimacy and sexuality in safe ways.
  
  
  

• Build communication tools for navigating triggers.
  
  
  

• Explore values and meaning outside of religious rules.

As Stan Tatkin (author of Wired for Love) teaches, strong couples are like a “two-person system”—a secure base where both partners know they can turn to one another for safety. Couples therapy can help you create that system as you heal from religious trauma.

Small Daily Practices for Healing Side by Side

Healing doesn’t happen in one big leap—it unfolds in daily, intentional steps. Here are a few practices couples have found helpful:

• Check-ins: Each day, ask, “How’s your heart today?” This opens space for emotions without needing solutions.
  
  
  

• Reassurance Rituals: When triggers arise, pause and say, “I’m here, we’re safe, we’re free.”

• Play Together: Trauma often steals playfulness. Reclaim it—dance in the kitchen, try a silly new hobby, or laugh at a movie together.
  
  
  

• Shared Journal: Keep a notebook where you both write reflections, questions, or dreams. Read them together once a week.

Holding Hope for the Future

Leaving a high-control religion can feel like standing in an open field after years in a cage. The openness is both exhilarating and terrifying. But when you walk this path with your partner, you’re not alone.

Healing side by side means you get to witness each other’s courage, hold each other’s grief, and build something new together. It won’t always be easy—there will be tears, misunderstandings, and setbacks. But there will also be moments of joy, laughter, and deep connection that could never have been possible inside the system you left.

As Glennon Doyle often says, “We can do hard things.” And healing together after leaving a high-control religion is indeed a hard thing—but also a profoundly beautiful one.

Final Thoughts

If you and your partner are on this journey, know that you’re not broken for struggling. The challenges you face are not signs of weakness but evidence of the deep impact high-control religion can have on every part of life. Healing takes time. It takes patience. And it takes radical compassion—for yourself and for each other.

Side by side, step by step, you can rebuild a relationship that is no longer defined by fear or control, but by freedom, love, and authentic connection.

Could Queer Couples Therapy in Minneapolis, St. Paul, & Across MN Support You as You Love a Survivor?

Leaving a high-control religion together reshapes everything you thought you knew about safety, belonging, and love. It’s brave—and it’s also hard. At NobleTree Therapy, we offer somatic couples therapy in St. Paul, Minneapolis, and throughout Minnesota to help partners reconnect with their bodies, each other, and the present moment after years of fear or control. Here, healing isn’t about erasing the past—it’s about learning to feel safe in your own story and in the relationship you’re building now.

• Let’s connect—schedule a free consultation

• Learn more about queer couples therapy at NobleTree

• Bring your stories, your questions, and the pieces of faith you’re still sorting through. There’s room for both your grief and your becoming here.

Other Therapy Services Offered at NobleTree Therapy in St. Paul, MN

At NobleTree Therapy, we walk alongside individuals, couples, and queer families across Minnesota as they rebuild trust in themselves and in connection after seasons of control, silence, or loss. For some, this work begins with learning how to feel safe in their own body again. For others, it’s untangling the spiritual and relational wounds left by high-control systems—or discovering how to hold love and belief without fear.

In addition to couples therapy, we offer LGBTQIA+ affirming care, support for religious trauma and spiritual abuse, and somatic therapy that helps clients reconnect with their bodies as sources of truth and safety. Our work also includes space for identity exploration—around gender, sexuality, spirituality, and creative expression—and for tending to grief that often hides beneath survival: grief for the faith that once held meaning, for family relationships that changed, or for the versions of yourself that had to disappear to stay safe.

This isn’t quick-fix therapy. It’s a process of remembering what it means to feel whole, steady, and connected. Healing here is slow, relational, and rooted in care—because your story deserves time to unfold.

About the Author

Kendra Snyder, MA, LMFT, NCC (she/her) is the founder of NobleTree Therapy and a licensed trauma therapist serving individuals, couples, and queer families across Minnesota and Colorado. With over a decade of experience, she walks alongside those healing from religious trauma, identity fragmentation, and relational disconnection—helping them rebuild safety in both body and relationship.

Her work is rooted in somatic, depth-oriented, and attachment-focused therapy, integrating nervous system awareness with deep emotional attunement. Kendra specializes in supporting LGBTQIA+ folks, adoptees, and anyone learning to live beyond systems of control or rigidity. Through gentle curiosity and grounded presence, she helps partners and individuals honor both grief and growth—trusting that wholeness isn’t found in perfection, but in the courage to stay present with what’s real.