How I’ve Chosen to Unlearn and Heal From Church Trauma
by Yasmine Jameelah
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October 11, 2022

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How I’ve Chosen to Unlearn and Heal From Church Trauma

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Black Love Managing Editor Yasmine Jameelah
Black Love Managing Editor Yasmine Jameelah (Courtesy of Instagram/@yasminejameelah)

Season 4 Episode 3 of Couch Conversations focused on religious upbringing, and it got me thinking a lot about my own childhood. I’ve spent the majority of my life in the church. It’s shaped the core of who I am, and I can say with pride that my relationship with God is one that I don’t regret. I don’t know what or who I’d be without my faith. It’s guided me throughout my life and helped me through my worst times, and affirmed me in my best. And still, I’ve spent the majority of my twenties unlearning much of what I’ve learned in church. My experience in church growing up was layered. I am the daughter of a single mother turned woman preacher (now Pastor) from a Baptist church up north with traditional southern views. I am the daughter of a Muslim father (with strong opinions about church folk) whose Jehovah’s witness mother eventually converted and joined my church. I am the Goddaughter of the Pastor of my home church (who had no natural children, so essentially, I was the first daughter) and I am the Granddaughter of a Bishop. In tandem with that, I was raised in a famous church, so there was a deeply rooted culture of prestige, values, morals, and etiquette, and if you fell out of line, you’d be corrected.

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Yasmine and her Mom, Pastor Thurselle Williams, at a church event (Courtesy of Yasmine Jameelah)

If you ask me, I had it rough growing up in church but if you talk to my Mother, she’d tell you her generation had it worse because of the beliefs church elders had back then. As I got older and learned more about the church culture then, I realized she was right. Church is much different now than it was thirty years ago. When I was born, the deaconess board wanted my Mother to come before the church and apologize for my birth if I was going to be dedicated. She resufed. My Mother had heard the stories of how those women lived before they “got saved,” and said she wasn’t about to apologize to a bunch of hypocrites. They thought they were denying me a Dedication with her refusal, but instead in the middle of a revival, a renowned Bishop called us up to the altar. In front of everyone, he lifted me up and prayed over my life. Whenever I ask her what it was like, she’d say “like the scene in the The Lion King when they lifted up Simba” lol and that it was one of her favorite memories of my childhood. I don’t remember it, but I smile whenever she tells me that story; it makes me feel like I do. I’d like to think that act of love stamped who I’d become, a rebel with a good heart that was loved unconditionally. A little girl unafraid to speak her mind, who dated with no shame in church, and who owned who she was, even when church people told me that was too much.

But don’t get it twisted, even with all that – my Mama didn’t play. I was in church seven days a week, I couldn’t participate in cheerleading or sports that took place during church hours, and I attended CBT, Vacation Bible School, and Sunday School whether I wanted to or not. All my friends called me church girl, and the church van picked me up from school daily (except for those days I tried to walk home with the other kids out of protest) But in hindsight, I still had much more freedom than most PKs (preacher’s kids) I knew. She let me date, go to rap concerts, dress how I wanted (within reason), and reminded church people that her daughter didn’t have to be perfect because she was young, just like every other young person in the church. That young girl I was has become a woman who every person in that layered experience — Mother, Father, Godfather, Grandmother, Grandfather, and even my old church family (Facebook feedback about the clothes I wear and all) are, as they say — Godly proud of.

While they’re proud of me, there’s still much about my upbringing that I wonder if I ever needed to be exposed to. There’s so much taught about sexual shame, rigid world views, hell, and overall how girls are treated compared to boys that causes me to wonder often, how much will I expose my kids to church someday? This same place that taught me that the plan God has for me was far greater than I could ever imagine also taught me that I needed a purity ring, I couldn’t speak my mind, and that I had to behave 10x better than the other kids because as young as twelve years old, I had a responsibility to be an example to other children. I don’t know if I want that life for my kids, but I also don’t know if I want them to know a life without God and his love that they’ll need to navigate through life. Much of what I learned in my own way, I’m still processing. I’m allowing myself to unlearn on my personal wellness journey (while building a wellness company), and heal from sexual trauma and layered church trauma while focusing less on church people and more on my personal relationship with God. 

Couch Conversations couples Clarence & Neasel, Kevin & Melissa, and Lindsey & Aaron
Couch Conversations couples Clarence & Neasel, Kevin & Melissa, and Lindsey & Aaron

Seeing this recent episode of Couch Conversations available on the Black Love+ app comforted me to see parents and spouses address sexual shame, church culture, and the trauma that can take place in the church. It was so refreshing to see Lindsey & Aaron, and Neasel & Clarence, not only share experiences that mirrored mine but also what they’ve done differently with their children so openly with Kev & Melissa. Unlearning and understanding is a journey that I truly believe is never-ending, but it’s imperative that we are open to the experience and actively work toward the goal of learning new knowledge while shedding the old. I still don’t know how much or how little I want to involve my children in church yet, but when it’s time, it’s my greatest prayer that my husband, children, and myself will feel God’s unconditional love throughout our home and throughout our lives. 

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