This original post was written and released in 2020. Here is an updated, (hopefully) better written version.
Ps I write a lot about the nuance of deconstructing with still religious parents in my book, God, Sex, and Rich People: A Recovering Evangelical Testimony It’s a subject that is so important to me, as I have witnessed more and more parents get this absolutely, inarguably wrong with their adult kids. Anywho! Onto that thing Moses said…
When people hear I’m the daughter of a pastor from a teeny town in the Midwest, their immediate question is usually “So what do your parents think of…you?” When they read my writing, the question intensifies to “So have your parents disowned you yet?” On every stop of my book tour, the very first question in the reader Q&A was the same: “What’s your dad think of this?” Much to the audience’s surprise, my dad was usually present. They were even more surprised when (after I made a joke about my parents loving and enjoying time with me before I burn in hell) I let him answer the question himself.
In the world of sharing #RecoveringEvangelical stories, I often hear about the the painful parent-offspring relationship that occurs during and post deconstruction. The standard experience is: If you don’t live life exactly how your parents lived or abide by their exact beliefs, they will metaphorically — or literally — abandon you.
Many people in my cohort share that, since their coming to differing (oftentimes, opposing) conclusions about faith, themselves, and the world, their parents have done anything from expressing blatant disinterest in their lives to cutting off communication entirely. Some do get the middle ground communication privilege, however: when does communication occur, it is passive aggressively judgmental and/or condescending. Very fun.
Despite this whole “must be just like me or else!” approach to parenting always always resulting in a chasm between parents and kids, the parents persist. They do so because in the Evangelical world, the actual meanings of words get…completely twisted (which is ironic given how much they love to harp on the importance of certain word meanings such as “boy” and “girl.”)
Words like “love” are lived out in a way that is downright demonstratively “hate.” This happens for a few reasons:
Evangelicals believe the “ultimate love” goes like this: God murdered his son for you, you filthy piece of sin shit (martyrdom manipulation), and if you don’t believe that sacrificed son is the Messiah (believe what the father wants) and act as he commands (behave how the father wants), he will burn you in hell (forever severed from his “love” as punishment).
Since they believe “loving” someone in their sin is condoning the sin, they claim it is “loving” to reject the sin. They cannot claim to love and be obedient to God while also condoning sin. Some will try to defend and separate the “sin” from actually loving the person by claiming “I love the sinner but hate the sin.” But they’re trash at showing love to the “sinner,” because …
Evangelicals are taught the Golden Rule, but since they are also taught to hate themselves (original sin, they’re nothing but “dirty rags,” nothing without Christ blah blah) they don’t really know how to love themselves, let alone how to love others well.
In other words, Evangelicals are reallllly confused on the meaning of “love.”
To be clear, I’m not suggesting this problem only occurs in small town, religious homes. I have worked in many wealthy, non-religious households in New York City, and I can assure you, this pressure to be like your parents knows no religious identity or tax bracket. These kids are constantly show-ponied from the time they’re interviewing for preschools. The pressure to present and perform under to microscope of modern day Bridgerton society is very real.
Parents are supposed to raise little whiny humans into big awesome humans who thrive as individuals and contribute positively to society. Unfortunately, I’m afraid most parents are really just out to raise up big familiar clones. I was taught to honor my parents, but does that mean I have to be just like them?
If I’m being totally honest, the hardest part of coming into my own in this whole Recovering Evangelical process has been the fear of losing the love and approval of my mom and dad.
I’d watched a lot of my queer friends go through this disowning experience after they came out, and was indeed scared shitless my parents would do the same to me. The thought of not “honoring” them haunted me every time I asked a question about the validity of Christianity, scripture, and/or if I was going to hell cuz I had sex with that hot Irish guy whose name I can’t remember.
Totally weird that I — a grown woman — was afraid of what my parents would think of my sexual activity? Yes, entirely. But this is very common in religious culture. The indoctrination success depends on children being obedient to their fathers and, as the title of this post suggests, “honoring your parents” is HUGELY enforced. So, as with most things of my Evangelical yesteryear, even though it is weird, it is not abnormal.
In my experience at least (and I realize this is not everyone’s!) however, my parents’ judgment haunted me — not because they were mean and authoritarian — it was actually just the opposite! I loved and still love my parents with a ferocity that often brings me to tears. (I cry thinking about them dying at least once a week) I was scared because I didn’t want who I was becoming to disappoint them. Regardless of their approach to parenting leaning more positive relationship, less dominionization, the fear of losing my family unit by becoming an individual was still terrifying.
Being a Christian is just part of being a Cowsert (at least in our branch of the Cowserts. Some of my extended family though, not so much. They're more Winter’s Bone, less Jesus Camp.) So if I wasn’t a Christian, could I even be a Cowsert? It sounds dramatic, but that’s how I felt.
I know Mom and Dad love me like, a whole lot. Not just because they say they do or because parents are supposed to love their kids, but because some of my earliest memories are of them being exceptionally good at celebrating me and my individual quirks.
For example, I was an elementary school teacher’s nightmare because I talked incessantly and corrected my teacher’s grammar (I mean COME ON. You “seen” my dad at the store? Nah girl, you “saw” him.* Def got a timeout for that one). I excelled academically but always got my name on the board for being disruptive. My mom was a kindergarten teacher, so it was not exactly a good look for her kid to be a chatterbox-know-it-all, but I never got in trouble at home for this behavior.
*That being said, I realize my writing is not always grammatically perfect. In order to preemptively avoid the criticism, please know my punctuation and structure is for a specific effect. Haters.
Maybe I didn’t get in much trouble because my dad was so elated to have a chatty kid after my older sister, The Mute (lookin at you A.C.). Or maybe it was because my parents knew being smart and talkative was not a punishable offense. Or, perhaps the most likely, they were just tired of parenting by their fourth kid. Who can know. Even if I am the result of a fourth-kid-parenting-tapout, great job mom and dad! I’m now a word-loving writer, so letting me talk so much and appreciate proper grammar really stuck!
My mom started showing her teeth to the faculty when my principal in junior high was legit singling me out and being a bully. My dad let me try out for cheerleading even though I knew he thought it was a waste of my point-guard height on the basketball court. I once won an impromptu writing competition amongst a bunch of gifted and talented kids, and remembered being so happy antsy to get home and tell dad. I knew he’d be so proud that these random ass thoughts of mine + my top tier delivery deserved a medal!
By high school I was so close with both of them, I dared not disappoint. All I wanted was for them to be proud of me. I wanted to be an exceptional daughter (Enneagram 4, anyone?). I graduated top of my class, played sports and participated in drama/choir, and promoted the shit out of See You At The Pole. Not to mention all those Bible studies I was in AND led. Good Girl MVP over here.
By the time I moved to NYC at age 22, my parents and I had a good thing going. I knew they loved me, the Good Girl MVP. But what if I started to do decidedly not Good Girl MVP behavior such as have sex, stop going to church, or date Jews (oh my!). Would they still like me? Would they still take interest in my life? Would they still celebrate me like they’d always done?
Very gratefully, the answer is yes, my parents still think I’m the bees knees. My dad was the moderator for my book release launch party panel, and they have been in attendance at multiple book tour stops. They even surprised me at my latest stop in Denver at Tattered Cover. Look at my face!
In fact, when I (jokingly) told my parents I might need a new purity ring because the diamond fell out and the metal is all bent, my dad said “Well, I think we can get you a new one!” Then Val goes “Oh Mark don’t you think she’s a little past the purity ring thing?” LOL at their very clearly defined personalities in those responses. That being said, I’m sad I didn’t get another diamond ring. (Ken, you reading this?)
So no, my parents have not disowned me for questioning the validity of scripture, publicly speaking out about purity trauma, sex stuff, or even for the fact that I have a forever underdeveloped filter. They do not always have to understand or agree with me in order to intentionally love and respect me.
I recently read this quote by a famous therapist:
“Functional families allow for the individuality of each member. People are free to express their needs, their wants, and their feelings. Those expressions are met with respect and love.” - Katherine Woodward Thomas
Why isn’t “allow for individuality of each member of your family” the fourth commandment? The answer, I assume, is because Moses was not in therapy.
At the center of Christianity I love is a God who loves us — deeply loves us — and wants us to love each other in the same way simply because we were created. How can we get this kind of love to be what Christian parents are known for? Instead of their gay and trans kids committing suicide at alarming rates, their liberal thinking adult offspring struggling to maintain a relationship with them because “the Bible says A, B, C…”?, or people assuming my parents have “abandoned” me for being different?
I don’t take for granted that I’ve become a great adult person due to my parents always celebrating me in my pursuit of living my fullest life.** They got the “Just like Jesus” theology correct and actually do love me unconditionally. They’ve showed me the best way to honor them is to be the biggest, brightest version of exactly who I was created to be by my Creator. My parents really do love the hell out of me.
**Look, I’m not saying things have been perfect with my parents. I’ve definitely had my fair share of therapy sessions figuring out how I’ve internalized shit from my childhood and then began creating a new narrative for myself as an adult. Which is also important, adult kids. Take control of your life. We can’t blame our parents for everything forever.
