In my own story, I’ll never forget the crippling anxiety I experienced after my adopted father died. I remember standing at his grave telling him I forgave him, because that was what I was taught to believe in the religious system I was part of: that a root of bitterness springing forth in your life could kill you spiritually. It was beliefs like these that kept me in my own game of whack-a-mole for some time.

It was only when I began to see the schema underneath the emotions that I found some relief from the anxiety. This piece is about what a schema is, how childhood schemas and religious trauma shaped my life, and what has helped.

What a childhood schema is

A schema is an often hidden pattern of beliefs that operates behind the scenes in many of our lives. Schemas are learned early in life and affect the way we see ourselves and others. Much of what I share here comes from a recent video by Dr. K (Alok Kanojia) and a video lecture by Dr. Gowri Aragam, both doctors who teach about mental health through Healthy Gamer.

Dr. K described a schema as a set of rules about how our lives and relationships work. An example of such a rule is, “I’m okay so long as others are okay with me.” Then, when others show displeasure, it feels like everything is not okay, even though everything logically appears okay around you. A child might learn, “If I don’t cry, then Mommy is proud of me,” or “If I work really hard and earn good grades, Daddy brags on me to his friends.”

These schemas develop throughout our childhood and adolescent years and make sense in how we operate in our families. They make sense at the time because they made us feel safe and part of the family. They stick because they feel true, and life keeps confirming that they are true.

Schemas can’t be fixed by addressing surface-level feelings alone. They decide which emotions come to the surface, so if we only treat the emotions, they will keep coming back up until we’ve addressed what is causing them. Sometimes what looks like a need for better boundaries, or a need to stop paying such close attention, leaves us feeling weak, as if overcoming it isn’t possible. That’s because, like a game of whack-a-mole, as Dr. K says, we use up large amounts of energy knocking down emotions that won’t stay down. A schema needs to be recognized for the pattern it is, and new habits need to be developed over time that show us the schema’s rules were wrong.

Mirroring and the vacuum

Mirroring means a parent reflects a child’s feelings and desires back in a way that shows the child they are okay. From Dr. K’s video and Dr. Aragam’s lecture, I learned that our patterns are usually about who we learn our parents need us to be in order to feel safe or in control.

If we had parents who were present for us in healthy ways, who mirrored us and reflected our lives back to us in a way that honored who we really are, then we developed healthier beliefs about ourselves and a sense of self-worth. But if our parents didn’t mirror us, or if they revealed displeasure at our emotions or rejected our desires, it created a huge vacuum in our lives that we feel desperate to fill with something.

The most important thing I’m gaining clarity around is understanding that vacuum. The only thing that can truly bring long-term relief is being able to accept ourselves as we are. That can be a struggle if you learned that certain emotions or choices made your caregivers unhappy.

The schema says certain feelings or desires are not acceptable to the people closest to me. That means if I feel a certain way or like certain things, engaging in them will result in being isolated and unsafe, so we choose to conform out of necessity. The schema becomes: “As long as I don’t do this, or feel that, or love these things, then I can stay close to others who will keep me safe.” And as children, it’s the only choice we have.

Religious trauma and trading one group for another

Why it felt safe

When we grow up believing these things, they just become a part of who we are. So for me, it was easy to trade in one group for another. This is where religion sidetracked me and made it even more complex.

The religious system was addressing the core need that had always been missing: belonging as an adopted child. God, the church, and being a good Christian filled the space, and in some ways it did bring relief. These environments gave me approval when I used my genuine gifts, like singing and writing. It was a place where, in some ways, I could feel the sadness and express my gifts in ways I hadn’t been able to in the household I grew up in. My creator, who I told myself was the one who made us all family, helped me see that I wasn’t alone. This felt safer than what I grew up in.

The new rules

But it also meant I needed to learn new rules of the game. Different emotions were okay. Sadness meant I could pray and be heard by others and by God. Anger might mean righteous indignation against something that displeased God. However, other emotions, like lust or love, could get you into big trouble with God and others. If you loved something God said not to love, it meant you had an idol, or you might be disobedient to God’s rules, and it could lead you to hell. I also felt worse if I did something I thought might displease God.

At least in that environment, the rules were written clearly in the doctrine, and you didn’t have to figure out where you stood with God. So the schema was clear and more manageable.

When the rules stopped working

That lasted until unprocessed trauma surfaced for me, and praying and forgiveness couldn’t keep the whack-a-mole in the hole, no matter how many times I begged and pled and tried to make different choices. What was happening to me is now clear: the vacuum of never being mirrored and never being able to be my authentic self was still there. A new schema didn’t fill it, and a toxic religious system provided only temporary relief.

Unfortunately, some pieces of my personal story began to surface while I was receiving guidance from a religious leader, and I ended up trading one schema for another. It has made it incredibly complex to understand what is actually operating beneath the surface.

What the church could not provide was the space to be my authentic self, or to question doctrines that didn’t fit at all with the way I viewed others or what would happen after we died. I would never want to send my own children to a place of hellfire and brimstone for loving the wrong person. Those values, which were a reflection of my true self, needed to be suppressed, as did anything else that went against the rules.

Then I saw how people who appeared to be following the rules on the surface were cheating behind the scenes, and once again everything became confusing. It worked until it didn’t, until the truth came out, and I walked away from another game, wondering how to even play.

What helped me begin

What has been most helpful to me in this process is writing about my emotions. Over time, this has helped me put the pieces of the schema together.

Dr. K’s video gave me better language to understand what was happening. Schemas are how we learned to survive in places where we had to change who we truly were. As a result, we became someone we truly weren’t, and this created a vacuum that, if we don’t understand it, can lead to behaviors that harm us and the people around us. It can lead to children feeling responsible for parents, to cycles of shame and blame, to marriages that become dysfunctional, and to enmeshment, where the lines between a parent’s needs and a child’s needs blur. It can lead to lives that become compartmentalized as we try to be who others expect us to be.

The behaviors can become incredibly complex, but the root cause is so simple: the ability to be ourselves with others who don’t expect us to change. People who see and listen and give us space to be ourselves. The root is simple. Living it is harder than I could have imagined.

I realize that if I’d had access to this kind of information earlier in my life, it would have spared me a lot of the frustration and grief I experienced looking to religion for answers.

What authenticity looks like

I spent some time working with Claude AI, loading in my notes and insights from the video and lecture and asking it to help me make them easier to understand. This is where AI helps: as a thinking partner, not a replacement for thinking. Here is what it said authenticity actually looks like.

Authenticity means hearing your others fully and still choosing for yourself. It is neither compliance nor rebellion.

• Rebelling is not freedom. Rejecting or reacting against others (especially family) still lets them set the terms. Hiding things and living a split life are signs of this.
• It starts with knowing yourself. Make room, in a healthy and safe way, to explore who you are and what interests you. Then you can share selectively and decide from your true self.
• Check both explanations. A family members pushback is often a projection of their own anxiety. Sometimes it also reflects a fair point about immature or reactive communication on your side. Looking at both keeps you honest.
• Say what’s true, calmly. Raising something will make people uncomfortable, but staying silent means not being honest with yourself. A calm statement of what you’re choosing and why helps people understand more than a tantrum does.

Unlearning the schema: worth that doesn’t depend on approval

The schema was learned through experience, so it is unlearned the same way: by repeated experience, not by telling yourself you are enough. Here are ways to start.

1. Separate worth from output. Do something with no usefulness or payoff, like a deliberately useless rest day, and notice you are still okay.
2. Receive without earning it. Let someone give to you, say thank you, and stop there.
3. Decide from your own self. Explore your preferences, values and interests, and make small choices based on what you want, not on what will please people. Mistakes count as practice.
4. Tolerate not being approved of. Say a true thing and let the other person’s disappointment exist without fixing it. You learn you can survive it.
5. Meet your needs in healthy places. Look for relationships where care goes both ways and you aren’t valued for being useful.

Outside approval will always feel good, and that’s fine. The change is that it becomes something nice to have, not what your sense of self depends on.

When guilt feels overwhelming

As you start to live more authentically, guilt can hit hard. It can feel like you’ve done something terribly wrong. When you step out of the old role, the schema protests. Dr. K describes how your sense of identity can feel like it’s coming apart when you stop being the caregiver, because if you’re not the caregiver, then who are you? That can bring a kind of existential dread, and it’s often what pulls people back in.

That feeling is the old alarm going off. It is not evidence of wrongdoing. Here is what can help:

1. Name it. Say to yourself, “This is the old alarm. It’s a feeling, not a verdict.”
2. Settle your body first. Take slow breaths with long exhales, feel your feet on the floor, or step into another room.
3. Check the facts. What did I actually do, and would I call it wrong if a friend did the same?
4. Wait before acting. Hold off on over-apologizing, rescuing, or reversing your decision, and let both be true: “I feel guilty, and I haven’t done anything wrong.”
5. Notice what happens next. When nothing falls apart, you’re collecting evidence that the old rules no longer apply.

Be gentle with yourself. Self-love doesn’t come naturally to people with this pattern and has to be practiced deliberately. If the feelings are intense or don’t ease, a therapist who understands family patterns or trauma can help.

Where I am now

I used to believe forgiveness had to come first, that without it I’d never stop hurting. Now I’m learning that being honest with myself comes first, and the rest takes the time it takes.

What I wish for anyone reading this is a place to be exactly who you are, with people who see you and listen and don’t expect you to change, and the chance to offer that to someone else.

Resources and credits

• Dr. K (Alok Kanojia), “Why Being the Most Reliable Person Is Ruining You,” Healthy Gamer. This is the source for the ideas about schemas, conditional self-worth and unrelenting standards. He builds on schema therapy, developed by psychologist Jeffrey Young.
• Dr. Gowri Aragam, “Being Authentic With Family,” a Healthy Gamer membership stream. This is the source for the ideas about mirroring, family dynamics, blame and forgiveness. Please note. This is a personal reflection, not therapy or professional advice. If anything here brings up difficult feelings, please consider talking with a qualified mental health professional.

About the author. Lori Williams is the founder of A Liminal Space Coaching, a peer support and trauma-informed coaching practice for people healing from religious trauma and high-control systems. She is a GTI Certified Trauma Care Practitioner, a writer, and a peer support facilitator.