a licensed therapist dedicated to helping individuals and families heal from religious trauma, navigate faith transitions, and embrace meaningful life changes. My approach is grounded in compassion, evidence-based practices like DBT and EMDR, and a deep understanding of the unique challenges my clients face. I believe in creating a space where you feel seen, supported, and empowered to reconnect with your inner compass.

I remember a moment from my childhood that, on the surface, does not seem like a big deal.
My parents were out of town and I had double-booked myself. I had planned to stay the night at
a friend’s house and completely forgot I had also committed to babysit for a family in my ward.
This was before cell phones, so there was no way for anyone to reach me or let me know what I
had missed until it was already done.
When I found out, I did not experience it as a simple mistake.
I experienced it as identity collapse.
I did not think, “Oh no, I messed up.”
I thought, “I am a horrible person.”
What stands out most now is how automatic that interpretation was. The emotional response was
not proportional to the event. It was global. Shame, not guilt. Not “I did something wrong,” but
“something is wrong with me.”
I avoided the family afterward because facing them felt unbearable. I even wrote an apology
letter, not just to acknowledge what happened, but because it felt like I needed to somehow
repair who I was, not just what I had done.
What has stayed with me over the years is this. They were frustrated, but they did not shame me.
There was no punishment, no condemnation. And yet internally, I experienced it as though I had
done something that revealed something deeply wrong about me.
That gap between external reality and internal experience is where conditional love often lives,
not always in what is said to us, but in what we have been trained to believe we deserve.
Conditional love is when belonging, safety, or approval feels dependent on performance.
It is not always explicit. In fact, it is often communicated through tone, structure, and
consequences more than direct statements.
It can sound like
“We love you, but we cannot support that choice”
“You are worthy when you are obedient”
“God loves everyone, but”
Over time, this creates an internal equation. Love is available, but only under certain conditions.
Once that equation is learned early enough, it becomes automatic long before we have language
for it.
Within Mormon theology and culture, love and belonging are often taught alongside frameworks
of worthiness, covenant, and obedience.
In a talk titled “Divine Love,” Russell M. Nelson emphasizes that God’s love is universal and
available to all, while also teaching that the full blessings of that love are experienced through
obedience and covenant faithfulness. The intention of that distinction is theological clarity, but
emotionally, especially for children and adolescents, it can land very differently.
Instead of nuance, it can register as
Love is always there, but access to it depends on what I do.
That subtle shift matters because children do not separate love from belonging or theology from
attachment. They experience it as relational reality.
This is reinforced through worthiness culture. Many aspects of Mormon life such as temple
access, callings, and participation in ordinances are tied to ongoing evaluation of behavior and
adherence. Even when framed as spiritual growth, the lived experience can become one of being
continuously measured.
Eternal family doctrine adds another layer. The idea that families can be together forever is
deeply meaningful, but it is also often paired with conditions of continued faithfulness. For many
people, that creates a quiet emotional undertone. Connection is sacred, but not fully secure.
When love feels like it must be maintained through correctness, it stops feeling like something
you are held in and starts feeling like something you must hold onto.
The impact of conditional love is not only behavioral. It is identity level.
The most immediate shift is the confusion between action and self. Instead of “I made a
mistake,” the internal experience becomes “I am the mistake.” That is the emotional foundation
of shame.
Shame does not just hurt. It organizes how a person sees themselves. It turns ordinary human
imperfection into evidence of defectiveness.
Over time, this shapes how people relate to their own inner world. If being fully seen risks
rejection or withdrawal, then parts of the self get hidden. Needs get minimized. Emotions get
managed instead of felt. Many people adapt by becoming highly attuned to others while
becoming disconnected from themselves.
Relationships can also carry this imprint. When love has been experienced as conditional, even
safe relationships can feel uncertain. There may be a lingering expectation that closeness must be
earned or maintained through behavior, agreement, or emotional caution.
Boundaries can also feel complicated. If love was once tied to compliance, then saying no can
feel like risking belonging itself.
It matters to say this clearly. Most conditional love is not intentional harm.
Many people who express it genuinely believe they are loving well. They believe they are
protecting, guiding, or helping someone stay on a path that matters deeply to them.
And many of them were raised in the same emotional system.
That does not erase impact. But it does explain why it repeats so consistently across generations
and relationships.
Healing from conditional love is not primarily about changing beliefs. It is about changing felt
experience.
It often begins with small, disorienting realizations
I can make mistakes and still be okay
I can be misunderstood and still be worthy
I can disappoint someone and still be loved
Over time, those moments accumulate into something new, a nervous system that no longer
equates imperfection with danger.
And beneath all of that is a slower, deeper shift that takes time to fully believe.
That worth was never something to earn in the first place.
That child who forgot a babysitting commitment did not need shame. She needed context.
Repair. Perspective.
But she had already learned something deeper about how love worked. So instead of seeing a
mistake, she saw a moral verdict.
If you recognize yourself in that, if you have ever felt like love had to be earned through getting
it right, you are not alone.
And you are not broken.
You were taught a system where love and worth were intertwined.
And you are allowed to learn something different. Learn more about religious trauma here.
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Inner Compass is a licensed mental health haven in Gilbert, Arizona for individuals, couples, families, and teens who are navigating life’s transitions and trauma.
Inner Compass is a licensed mental health haven in Gilbert, Arizona for individuals, couples, families, and teens who are navigating life’s transitions and trauma.
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