Religious Trauma and Your Voice: How Voice Lessons Can Support You
Content note: this post mentions religious shame, fear of hell, corporal punishment and other abuse, sexual shame, forced marriage, and shunning, among other potentially triggering topics. Read at your own discretion. You can contact me directly if you would like to discuss how we can work together without reading through the post.
Religious trauma can leave a mark on the voice, but voice work can also be incredibly powerful on your healing journey and help you to reconnect with it.
If you grew up in religious fundamentalism, a cult, or any belief system that tightly regulated how you could express yourself, you may find it hard to use your voice. That might mean finding the words to say what you mean, getting those words out, speaking or singing at the pitch and volume you’d like, or having the tools and techniques to express a full range of emotion and colour.
You may have come across this post because you are questioning or deconstructing, or you might have left years ago and still find your body reacting in ways your mind has moved past. You might still be involved in your religious tradition and still believe in it, while recognising that your voice has been harmed or limited. Or you may have deconverted entirely.
Religion can be a source of comfort and meaning for some people. For others, it caused lasting harm, and some people hold both. This post focuses on the harm, but wherever you are with your faith, you are welcome here.
This post is for people who want to understand the basics of how religious trauma can affect the voice, and who are looking for support. If you’d like to go deeper into the research, see my larger post on religious trauma and the voice.
About Me
I’m Kayla Collingwood: a classical contralto, voice educator, and creator based in Paris, originally from Aotearoa/New Zealand. My training and career has focused on the voice in many forms: performing, teaching, wellbeing, and continuing to learn how we express ourselves through sound.
My teaching approach is holistic, extending beyond technical skills to how the voice connects with the body, breath, identity, and emotional safety. I believe our voices are an extension of our whole being, and vocal skills are not confined to the actual sound we create.
I’m a trauma-informed practitioner, rather than a therapist. I have lived experience of religious trauma and its effects on the voice, and I’ve studied this area in depth through research, certifications, conversations, and work with students, to better support people who want to connect (or reconnect) with their voices.
I offer voice lessons both in Paris and online from anywhere in the world, across classical, musical theatre, and contemporary styles, as well as more general voice work (spoken/sung).
What is religious trauma?
Trauma is the lasting effect of an event, a series of events, or a set of circumstances that overwhelmed your ability to cope. It can come from a specific event (such as a natural disaster or assault) or from a long-term unsafe context (such as an abusive family or relationship, or living through a war).
Religious trauma is trauma that comes from religious beliefs, practices, or structures that left you feeling powerless. It often arises in high-control religious environments, where questioning is discouraged and unquestioning obedience is expected.
Religious trauma isn’t a formal diagnosis in the DSM-5 or the ICD. You may also see it called Religious Trauma Syndrome, a term coined by psychologist Marlene Winell in 2011, although many clinicians now prefer “religious trauma” because it doesn’t show up as one fixed set of symptoms. Scholarly and clinical attention is growing. People affected by it are sometimes diagnosed with conditions such as complex PTSD (C-PTSD), anxiety disorders, depression, or OCD (obsessive compulsive disorder), depending on the person and their circumstances.
Potential contributers to religious trauma you might recognise
Religious trauma looks different for everyone. These are some of the common things many people who grow up in high-control religious environments experience, across many traditions. Some people experienced milder versions of these, and some grew up in extreme contexts. Many of these practices are meaningful to people who choose them. They become harmful when they’re enforced through fear, shame, or control.
Purity and modesty rules: purity rings and pledges, I Kissed Dating Goodbye, the law of chastity, tznius/tzniut, being told you were a “stumbling block”
Shame about your body and sexuality: family purity laws, restrictions on women during menstruation, and shame around dress, sexual expression, or any sexual activity outside marriage or the religious rules
Fear of hell and the end of the world: hell houses, Heaven’s Gates and Hell’s Flames, rapture anxiety, Armageddon, purgatory, the punishment of the grave
Guilt and confession: mortal and venial sin, Catholic guilt, scrupulosity, worthiness interviews, altar calls repeated until you were sure you were saved
Harsh discipline: spanking and other violent punishment, parenting teachings that endorsed spanking or demanded strict obedience and rigid routines (for example from James Dobson, Michael and Debi Pearl, and Gary and Anne Marie Ezzo), and abuse in church-run or religious schools and institutions
Strict gender roles and hierarchies: headship and submission, the “perfect wife”, the “protector and provider”, forced or non-consensual matchmaking and marriage
Spiritual explanations for distress: mental health conditions, neurodivergence, disabilities, or sexuality treated as a demon, a generational curse, or a spiritual attack, with deliverance ministry and spiritual warfare as the answer
Authority that couldn’t be questioned: elders, a spiritual father, or a charismatic leader whose word was final
Controlled information and relationships: being told what you could read, watch, learn, or say, and who you could spend time with
Shunning and loss: disfellowshipping, losing family and community when you questioned or left, and, in some groups, being followed or harassed after leaving
Performed devotion: testimonies, speaking in tongues, being “slain in the Spirit”, pressure to show joy or pray aloud on demand, and strict rules about how and when to pray or speak
Limits on women’s voices: kol isha and ʿawrah, or rules about whether women may sing, speak, or pray in front of men (interpretations vary widely), and passages from religious texts weaponised to restrict women’s roles
Music and sounds labelled worldly, demonic, or haram: rock, growling, chanting, yoga sounds, villain characters, emotional expression beyond what was considered acceptable, or music and singing in general (views vary within traditions)
If your tradition isn’t mentioned here, your experiences are still important and valid.
How control works: the BITE model
Not everything that affects the voice is about sound. Being controlled and limited in other ways can also affect how you use your voice, sometimes indirectly.
Steven Hassan’s BITE model of authoritarian control is one way of describing how that control works:
B, Behaviour control: regulating how you live, dress, eat, sleep, work, and relate to others, through strict rules, needing permission for life choices, and isolation from outside support
I, Information control: restricting or distorting what you can access, through censorship, propaganda, discouraging questions, and encouraging distrust of critics and former members
T, Thought control: shaping your beliefs to fit the group’s doctrine, suppressing independent thinking, and using loaded language, “thought-stopping” phrases, or us-versus-them framing
E, Emotional control: manipulating feelings to create dependence, through guilt, shame, “love-bombing” (excessive praise or affection), and deep fear of what will happen if you leave or disobey
Many people leaving high-control groups find that BITE puts words to their experience. It was developed by Hassan, a cult-recovery specialist, and it isn’t a validated diagnostic tool. Researchers debate how well it works, and many ordinary groups show some of these traits to a degree. Hassan places it on a spectrum from healthy to unhealthy influence. Use it to understand your experience, rather than as a verdict on a whole community.
How religious trauma can affect your voice
Directly, in your sound and body:
A quiet, breathy, or “small” speaking voice
A high, childlike way of speaking that signals submission, often called the “fundie baby voice”
For some people, the opposite: a very loud or forceful voice, sometimes as a way of protecting yourself
Avoiding parts of your range
Tension in the throat, jaw, and neck
Feeling that your voice “isn’t yours”, or dissociating while you sing
Tears, trembling, nervous laughter, yawning, a racing heart, or other signs of a heightened nervous system during vocal work
Shame around certain sounds, such as shouting, growling, or raw, unpolished tones
Singing that feels heavily limited, or only safe in a worship setting
Indirectly, in how you express yourself with other people:
Difficulty knowing what you think, want, or feel, or finding the words for it
Second-guessing yourself, over-apologising, or softening everything you say
Difficulty saying no, setting boundaries, or disagreeing out loud
Going blank or silent when you’re challenged
Reaching for “approved” phrases or a performed tone instead of your own voice
Fear of being “too much” when you laugh, get angry, cry, or sing out
Any of these can have other causes, so they may not always be connected to trauma. They are, however, common traits.
What the research says about trauma and the voice
Research on religious trauma and the voice specifically is very new. What we do have mainly comes from nearby fields, and it points in the same direction.
The vagus nerve supplies the larynx. Its branches, the superior and recurrent laryngeal nerves, control the muscles that open, close, and tension the vocal folds. Your voice is physically connected to the autonomic nervous system, which is involved in how your body responds to stress.
Voice clinicians recognise that anxiety, stress, and trauma can be among the factors behind chronic vocal tension. Some models of functional voice disorders also list emotional inhibition, perfectionism, and a sense of powerlessness as contributing factors. That fits the idea that control can reach the voice indirectly, though this hasn’t been studied in religious settings specifically. The exact mechanisms are still being worked out, so no one can say that trauma causes a particular sound.
Two small studies of singers found that anxious attachment, shame, and childhood emotional neglect were associated with lower vocal intensity, meaning quieter singing (Monti et al., 2017). Anxious attachment was also linked to some measures of vocal instability in one of the studies. The authors describe the findings as preliminary, and they show association, not cause. A major review of brain imaging research also found that childhood abuse and neglect are associated with differences in brain regions that process sensory input and emotion (Teicher & Samson, 2016).
Why this might be happening
High-control environments often police how people speak, sing, and express emotion, especially by gender, age, and rank. You may have learned that doubt, anger, or even loud laughter was unsafe. You may have been taught that parts of who you are were sinful, shameful, or a danger to others.
Control over how you behave, what you can know, what you may think, and what you may feel doesn’t only shape what you believe. It can teach you that your own judgement can’t be trusted, and that speaking up has a cost.
If your body learned to expect punishment, rejection, or judgement, it may default to a high level of protection around your voice, sometimes for years after the environment is gone. Your voice may have adapted to keep you safe, which was necessary at the time. Once safety is established, the body-mind-voice can then, with the right support in place, start to heal.
How voice lessons can support you
Voice lessons can sit alongside therapy, or be an option for people who want to work with their voice but aren’t looking for therapy. A trauma-informed voice teacher works to create a safe, supportive space and follows your lead as you explore your voice.
As a voice teacher who works with trauma and the voice, religious trauma is a particular interest of mine.
I work with people at every point on this path. Some are still part of a faith community and want to use their voices there with more ease, whether that’s singing in services, leading worship, praying aloud, or speaking to a group. Some have left and want nothing to do with religion at all. Many are somewhere in between. I won’t steer you towards or away from faith, and there is no requirement to explain your history or tell me what you believe.
I adapt lessons to the pace that suits you. We might move quickly through some concepts and activities, and pull back on others. When I introduce something new, I explain the idea and the purpose. You’re free to express any worries, ask for adjustments, say no, or ask to move on to something else.
You can choose repertoire that is, or isn’t, connected to religion or spirituality. If you want to work on sacred music (music for a religious context, such as workship songs), we can. I’ll still suggest including other kinds of repertoire too, because widening what you feel “allowed” to sing is part of the process.
I teach online and in person in Paris, and there are two ways in:
Singing lessons: all genres, classical foundation
Voice/Stagecraft for Wellbeing: whole-person work, drawing on voice, theatre, and stagecraft practices
If you’d like to ask a question before booking, get in touch.
Frequently asked questions
Can religious trauma affect your voice?
It can. Voice clinicians recognise that stress, anxiety, and trauma can contribute to vocal tension, and small studies link shame and childhood emotional neglect with restricted voice use. Research on religious trauma specifically is still very new, and every person is different.
Is religious trauma a real diagnosis?
Not a formal one. Religious Trauma Syndrome isn’t in the DSM-5 or the ICD, but “Religious or Spiritual Problem” is mentioned. That doesn’t make the harm less real, and clinicians often treat it under diagnoses such as PTSD or complex PTSD.
Can I have religious trauma and still be religious?
Yes. Religious trauma comes from how beliefs and practices are enforced, through fear, shame, or control, not always from faith itself (though for some people that is part of the harm). Many people keep their faith and still recognise that parts of their experience harmed them.
What is the “fundie baby voice”?
It’s an informal term for a high, soft, breathy, childlike way of speaking that some women adopt in fundamentalist environments, where it signals submission. Some people have a higher, lighter voice naturally, so it isn’t proof of trauma.
Can voice lessons help with religious trauma?
Voice lessons can help you reconnect with your voice and to find healing from aspects of your story and experiences, but they aren’t therapy. If you have flashbacks, dissociation, or persistent vocal pain, then it may be necessary to speak with a specialised practitioner, such as a psychologist or ENT (ear-nose-throat) medical professional.
Do I have to leave my religion to work with you?
No. I work with people who are still involved in faith communities, people who have left, and everyone in between.
Do you teach online?
Yes. I teach online and in person in Paris.
You are the expert of your own experience. Take what helps, and leave the rest.
Want more detail? Read the larger post: Religious Trauma and the Voice.
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