Under their watchful eye, I learned that hating my body was the main way to be holy. As a survivor of childhood sexual abuse, it was not difficult to make the logical leap that to hear God, I needed to silence my sensations and make myself as small as possible. It’s not surprising that I couldn’t hear the Spirit of God warning me of danger years later in our spiritually oppressive church, for I had long practiced silencing myself and my body. I thought spirituality was submission, but really I was just practicing suppression.
