Religion vs. Spirituality: Losing Trust, Surviving a Cult, and Finding My Own Source

Hi everyone. Welcome to The Meredith Patterson Podcast.

This episode is raw. It's vulnerable. And it's deeply personal.
I've hesitated to share this, but I've learned that silence around abuse—especially spiritual abuse—only allows it to thrive. And I know I'm not alone.

Today, I'm talking about the difference between religion and spirituality—and how deeply religion has hurt me.
From growing up in a guilt- and shame-based Catholic system steeped in silence and abuse… to being aggressively recruited into a cult here in New York City—the International Church of Christ… I eventually found myself with no label. No religion. No community. No trust.

This episode is for anyone who's ever had their faith betrayed by something that was supposed to be sacred.

Catholicism – Shame and Silence

I was raised Catholic. And while some find comfort in the structure and rituals, my experience was filled with guilt, shame, and fear.

I was taught to confess, to obey, to repent.
But no one asked me if I felt safe. Or seen. Or loved.

Behind the symbols of peace and purity was something devastating—widespread sexual abuse. Covered up. Denied. Allowed to continue.

It broke something inside me.

How could I trust in a loving God when the people claiming to represent Him were harming children—and being protected while doing it?

I left the Church carrying a weight that was never mine.
But I still longed for connection. For meaning. And that made me vulnerable.

The Cult – International Church of Christ

When I moved to New York City, that hunger for connection led me straight into the arms of something far more dangerous than it appeared.

The International Church of Christ.

They were charismatic. Friendly. Supportive.
I remember walking into one of their first services and seeing Geoffrey Owens from The Cosby Show in the room. The vibe was cool, casual. The music was upbeat. Everyone looked young, vibrant, connected.

I thought, "This is different. Maybe this is what I've been missing."

But it wasn't love. It was control.

They used tactics now recognized as cult-like:

• Love-bombing.

• Scripture as manipulation.

• Mandatory confessions.

• Pressure to recruit.

• Social isolation from anyone who didn't conform.

• Shame disguised as accountability.

I was expected to never miss church—even when I was performing in shows. I was told to confess deeply personal things to people I barely knew. I was judged for missing a Bible study. My sense of worth was tied to my obedience.

Six months in, the red flags became impossible to ignore.

But I had wanted so badly to belong… that I ignored my intuition.
Until it screamed: Get out.

Leaving wasn't easy. They don't just let you walk away.
You're told you're "falling away from God." That you're lost. That your soul is in danger.

But here's what I know now:
My soul wasn't in danger.
My soul was waking up.

Left With Nothing – And Still Craving Connection

After Catholicism—and then that cult—I was done.

Done with religion.
Done with labels.
Done with anyone telling me they had the truth if I would just give them enough of myself.

But when you strip away all those layers—what's left?

Nothing. At first.
And that nothingness is painful.

It's exhausting to not know who to trust.
To ask: Who's real?
And worse: Can I even trust myself?

Because spiritual abuse doesn't just break your relationship with community.
It breaks your relationship with your own inner guidance.

Reclaiming Spirituality – On My Own Terms

Eventually, I started to explore. To question. To unlearn.

I began studying different religions. I started asking: What is real spirituality?

Since I was a child, I've always felt closest to something divine in nature.
In the trees. The ocean. The mountains. In the quiet.
That's where I've always felt God—or Source, or the Universe—whatever you want to call it.

So I began meditating. I stopped saying prayers that felt robotic and started listening instead. I explored the teachings of spiritual leaders and realized how much of their wisdom overlaps.

And then… I took a closer look at Jesus.

Not the Jesus twisted by institutions. But Jesus, the person.

And I saw how much he criticized the religious leaders of his time—the Pharisees—for exactly what I had experienced.

He called them hypocrites.
He condemned their self-righteousness.
Their obsession with appearances.
Their expensive robes, ornate temples, and empty rituals.

He said they were like "whitewashed tombs"—beautiful on the outside but full of decay inside.
He flipped tables in the temple—not because people were worshiping—but because they had turned a place of spiritual connection into a marketplace for profit and power.

That wasn't rebellion.
That was truth.

Jesus's message was never about fear, guilt, or hierarchy.
It was about love. Humility. Service. Compassion.
And I realized—most of what organized religion has done in his name?
He would've never stood for it.

So here's what I believe now:

Spirituality isn't handed to you by an institution.
It already lives inside of you.

It lives in your breath.
In the sunrise.
In your laughter.
In music.
In grief.
In stillness.
In presence.

I don't need a label anymore.
I'm not religious.
I don't belong to a church.
But I believe in something greater.
I believe in energy. In truth. In love. In Source.

I've found the divine in dance. In solitude. In meditation. In my son's smile.
I don't need a building to pray.
I don't need a preacher in silk robes to tell me I'm enough.
I don't need a group to save me.

I saved myself.

For Anyone Who's Been Hurt

If you've been hurt by religion, please hear this:

You are not broken.
You were never the problem.
Your longing for connection is not foolish. It's sacred.

You don't have to give up on spirituality just because religion betrayed you.
You get to reclaim it.
You get to rebuild it.
You get to define it.

And if you don't trust yet… that's okay.
But don't close your heart forever. Let it heal.

And when you're ready—start small.

Light a candle. Go for a walk. Cry. Breathe. Listen. Laugh.

That is church.
That is prayer.
That is sacred.

Take one moment today and ask yourself:
What does real connection feel like to me?

Then follow that.

Not what you were told to believe.
But what your soul already knows.

Thank you for listening.