Finding Language for Healing: A Survivor-Therapist’s Guide to Getting Started

Today’s guest post comes from Michelle Moffitt, a survivor and licensed therapist. If you appreciate the piece, you can join us for an online event on May 31 at 2:00 pm EST.


I didn’t plan on marrying a narcissist or getting caught in a high-control religious system—but I did. For a long time, I didn’t have words for what I was going through. 

Something always seemed a bit off. My husband’s behavior ranging from physically getting close to women while serving communion, to lying with ease and spinning elaborate stories to explain his indiscretions. There were smaller signs too—borrowing tools he never returned, taking office supplies home for personal use, and rarely spending time with our children, while doting on our dogs—only to later beat one of them. Despite our kids being straight-A students, volunteers, and standout athletes, he always found a reason to be disappointed in them. 

Within our high-control religious environment, I constantly cocked my head at theological explanations and long-winded justifications for why we held the “correct beliefs.” As the pastor’s wife, I had no say in what church we attended or how decisions were made. Submission was expected—in our home, our bedroom, and in my interactions with male leaders. Feedback wasn’t welcomed. Questions were equated with rebellion. 

I began graduate school at the age of forty-three. Though Gordon-Conwell was aligned theologically with our denomination (it was Reformed), I began feeling internal dissonance. We were taught that we had the right theology, while other Protestants fell short. Yet my brilliant professors-who came from diverse theological backgrounds-were allowed to teach us. I struggled to understand how this was permissible. And if they didn’t believe the “right” way, how was I supposed to learn from them? 

In a class on Psychopathology, my professor described Narcissistic Personality Disorder (NPD) - its patterns, motivation, and trauma roots. Then he added, half-joking, that many pastors meet the criteria. It made sense. Pastors often have a built-in audience, authority, and little accountability. 

As I neared graduation, I met with my supervisor to discuss next steps. I told him I needed to check with my husband, whose schedule was too important to shift.  He stood, handed me a few copied pages on codependency, and suggested I read them. 

Codependency is a behavioral and emotional condition where a person prioritizes the needs, emotions, or problems of another person to the detriment of their own well-being. It often involves excessive caretaking, people-pleasing, difficulty setting boundaries, and a reliance on external validation for self-worth.

Typically, codependency shows up in relationships where one person enables or supports another's unhealthy behaviors—such as addiction, irresponsibility, or emotional immaturity—while neglecting their own needs. It can stem from early family dynamics, particularly in environments where emotional needs were unmet or roles were reversed (e.g., children taking care of parents emotionally or physically).

Key traits of codependency include:

  • Difficulty saying no or setting limits

  • A need to be needed

  • Low self-esteem or self-worth tied to helping others

  • Fear of abandonment or rejection

  • Feeling responsible for others' feelings or actions

  • Suppressing personal needs or emotions to avoid conflict

In a patriarchal or high control religious system, codependency is often disguised as a virtue. Here’s how:

1. Self-Sacrifice as a Virtue

  • Individuals (especially women) are praised for putting others' needs before their own—often to the point of burnout or abuse. Words like “living sacrifice” are used here. 

  • "Dying to self" or “carrying your cross” can be misapplied to justify staying in harmful dynamics. Using scripture inappropriately and taking it out of its cultural context like the Philippians 2 passage of Kenosis. Telling a child or a woman they should empty themselves as Christ did and take on the nature of a servant. 

2. Gender Roles and Submission

  • Women may be taught that their role is to support, submit to, or serve their husbands or male leaders, regardless of emotional or spiritual harm.

  • Questioning authority may be framed as rebellion or a lack of faith.

3. Spiritualizing Emotional Neglect or Abuse

  • Victims of emotional, psychological, or spiritual abuse may be told to “pray harder,” “forgive and forget,” or “trust God’s plan” instead of seeking help or leaving the situation.

  • Enabling behaviors (e.g., covering for an addicted or abusive spouse) may be labeled as being a “faithful wife” or “servant-hearted.” I was told that “God can do amazing things and resurrect my marriage.” While my husband stayed in the pulpit and was not required to get help for his abusive ways. 

4. Suppressed Individuality

  • Personal desires, gifts, or dreams may be seen as selfish or prideful, especially if they diverge from traditional expectations.

  • Women may struggle to even know what they want or who they are, having been conditioned to focus on pleasing others.  As an Enneagram coach, I have witnessed countless women type as an Enneagram 2-the Helper, because they are trained that this is the only acceptable way to be. Or perhaps it is more noble. 

5. Fear-Based Belonging

  • Community acceptance may be conditional on compliance and performance.

  • People may stay in roles, marriages, or belief systems out of fear of rejection, shame, or eternal consequences—classic features of codependency.

  • Us against Them is often taught-the world outside the system’s bubble is evil and will harm you.

In such systems, codependency becomes a survival strategy—a way to belong, stay safe, and avoid punishment—rather than a conscious choice. Healing often involves untangling true faith from harmful indoctrination and reclaiming one's voice, boundaries, and worth.

Discovering words that shed light on my experience was a critical step in being Cracked Open. In addition to codependency, words like gaslighting, boundaries, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), or hypervigilance felt uncomfortable and unsettling - especially after church leaders told me I couldn’t use them. They said these terms were too clinical and intimidating. But to me, they were liberating. 

Many of us were raised to suppress emotions. Self-sacrifice was virtuous, while expressing feelings felt wrong. But language gives us power. It allows us to name our reality, identify patterns and find a way out.  The right words don’t just describe experience—they help change them. 

As I found a new language, I saw my life differently. Calling something abuse or trauma was painful, but necessary. Naming it gave me permission to live freely. 

Boundaries aren’t walls. They help us see where we end and someone else begins. Think of a boundary as a property line-not a fence to keep people out, but a marker that says, “This is what I am responsible for. This is what I am not.” Boundaries can feel foreign and uncomfortable if you have been conditioned to please or obey, especially in high-control relationships or systems. Boundaries are not telling someone else how to behave-that would be amazing if we could change others to better themselves! Boundaries are the limits and guidelines we set to protect our emotional, physical, mental, and spiritual well-being. They define what is acceptable and unacceptable in how others treat us—and how we treat ourselves. 

There are different types of boundaries, including:

  • Emotional – protecting your feelings and emotional energy

  • Physical – personal space and physical touch

  • Time – how and with whom you spend your time

  • Mental – protecting your thoughts, beliefs, and ability to choose

  • Spiritual – respecting your own and others’ faith journeys

Often, they are difficult to say because we know it will cause a problem. A few examples of speaking your boundaries are:

  • “I’m not comfortable with that.”

  • “I need time to think about it before I decide.”

  • “That doesn’t work for me.”

Gaslighting occurs when someone causes you to doubt your perception or memory of an event. Repeated gaslighting erodes self-trust. I call it “gut-washing” - the process of being trained to ignore your intuition. 

Gaslighting often comes from individuals or systems that rely on certainty and shame to maintain control. Reclaiming your voice begins with believing your experience. If something feels wrong - it probably is.

Key signs of gaslighting include:

  • Denial of facts: "That never happened," even when you clearly remember it did.

  • Twisting your words: "You're being too sensitive" or "You're overreacting" when you express hurt or confusion.

  • Blaming and deflecting: Turning the focus back on you—“You’re the one with the problem,” or “If you were more loving, I wouldn’t act this way.”

  • Withholding: Refusing to engage in conversation or pretending not to understand what you’re saying.

  • Creating confusion: Constantly shifting narratives so you second-guess your memory or judgment.

Gaslighting makes you feel like you’re losing your mind. But you’re not! You’re being manipulated to believe someone else’s version of reality. 

When I began using new language-words that affirmed my pain and described the truth-I began healing. I learned to trust myself again. I started listening to my head, my heart, and my gut. I began setting limits and choosing what I believed. 

Healing doesn’t start with certainty, It begins with curiosity: “What if I’m not crazy?” “What if this isn’t normal?” “What if I deserve better?” “What if I change my mind?”

You are allowed to change. You are allowed to name your truth. You are allowed to begin again. 

Find a safe community, a therapist, or other resources (books, podcasts, webinars) to help your brain rewire and begin to trust yourself. Be kind to yourself and practice self-compassion.


Michelle Moffitt is a psychotherapist, leadership coach, Enneagram expert, and the author of Cracked Open: A Journey to a Resilient and Independent. She specializes in helping individuals navigate anxiety, feeling stuck, identity struggles, and the impact of religious trauma.

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Rift: A Memoir of Breaking Away from Christian Patriarchy