The following post is from Morgan Piercy, LPC, NCC, ACT-PT of Deconstruction Counseling in Olathe, KS. Morgan and I connected via Threads and share a passion for supporting those who are navigating the impacts of religious trauma and/or embracing their neurodivergent identity. I invited Morgan to share from her experience working with late-diagnosed Autistic adults who have experienced religious trauma.
From Morgan:
For many late-diagnosed autistic adults, the journey of deconstruction isn’t just about theology. It is about identity. When you receive a diagnosis later in life, you often look back at your time in high-control religious spaces with new clarity.
Religious trauma cuts especially deep when your own neurological makeup was weaponized against you. For decades, you may have been told, directly or indirectly, that your autistic traits were spiritual failings.
The truth is… you were never broken, and you were never sinful for being you.
One of the most painful aspects of being undiagnosed in a rigid church environment is how social neurodivergence is often moralized. In many high-control communities, conformity is equated with godliness and social differences are sometimes seen as rebellious.
If you struggled with the unwritten social rules of church culture, you might have internalized damaging messages:
- Eye Contact and Body Language: A reluctance to make eye contact or perform physical affection (like the “greet your neighbor” time) was often labeled as being “cold,” “haughty,” or “unloving.”
- Literal Thinking: Asking clarifying questions or needing logical consistency wasn’t seen as a learning style; it was often framed as “questioning authority” or having a “rebellious spirit.”
- Social Battery: Needing to leave a fellowship hall because of social exhaustion was frequently interpreted as a lack of commitment to the “body of Christ.”
You weren’t trying to be difficult. You were trying to survive in a social environment that wasn’t built for your brain, yet you were likely disciplined or shamed for not performing “community” in the specific way the church demanded.
There is a unique emotional hold that high-control religion can have on the neurodivergent mind. Autistic brains often crave structure, clarity, and rules to navigate a chaotic world. Fundamentalist or rigid theology provides exactly that: a clear, black-and-white script for how to be a “good” person.
Initially, the strict rules of high-control religion can feel safe. They offer a “system” to follow. If you do X, you get Y. Because autistic people often take things literally and earnestly, these folks are prone to taking theological demands to their absolute extreme. While neurotypical peers might understand nuance or let certain rules slide, the neurodivergent brain might obsessively strive for perfection. This can easily get exhausting, and often eventually becomes an unsustainable lifestyle. It can even evolve into religious OCD (scrupulosity), where the fear of getting the rules wrong leads to constant mental checking, confession, and intense anxiety.
Deconstructing is terrifying because it means losing the script. It means stepping into the “gray areas” that your brain has been trained to fear.
For the undiagnosed child or adult, masking wasn’t just a survival mechanism; it was framed as spiritual obedience. “Dying to self” is a common Christian concept, but for autistic people, it was often weaponized to suppress sensory needs. Ignoring your sensory overwhelm to sit through a loud worship service or endure a crowded altar call was praised as “faith.” Meltdowns were often disciplined as “tantrums” or “lack of self-control.” You learned to dissociate from your body’s signals to please God and your community. You learned that your comfort didn’t matter. Unlearning this, and realizing that your sensory limits are not moral failures, is a massive part of the healing process.
If someone receives a diagnosis of autism as an adult, grief often follows. It is heavy, and it is valid. There is grief for the support that was never offered. There is anger for the shame that replaced understanding. There is mourning for the years spent trying to pray away, repent of, or submit traits that were simply how your brain was wired.
Many in the deconstruction community carry the weight of burnout, anxiety, depression, or C-PTSD. There is a lingering fear that trusting your own intuition is dangerous because you were taught for so long that your natural instincts were “fleshly” or “sinful.” Healing means gently untangling your autism from your religious conditioning. It is a slow process of re-embodiment.
Late diagnosis can be painful, but it is also the beginning of a new chapter of well-informed self-compassion. It is the reclaiming of your right to exist, not as a project to be fixed or a sinner to be molded, but as a human being worthy of safety, comfort, and authenticity just as you are.
At Deconstruction Counseling in Olathe, Kansas, I offer Acceptance and Commitment Therapy interventions adapted to neurodivergent adults in order to support faith deconstruction, spiritual abuse recovery, religious trauma recovery, anxiety, and depression. If you’d like to learn more about me, go to www.deconstructionkc.com.
Michelle F. Moseley (she/her) is a Licensed Clinical Mental Health Counselor in NC. She believes ALL people deserve respect, compassion, and access to mental and physical healthcare. Michelle specializes in working with survivors of religious trauma, and with those who have body image concerns, finding there is frequent overlap in these areas. She also frequently supports late-identified neurodivergent individuals as they navigate the grief and relief of a new understanding of self. You can learn more about Michelle by visiting her website at MichelleFMoseley.com or following her on Instagram – @therapy_with_michelle
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