I've worked with quite a few adults who came to me wondering whether they were autistic, but as we explored their experiences, it became clear that religious trauma might also explain some of what they were struggling with.
Many had grown up in conservative or high-control religious environments and were just beginning to question what they'd been taught. They described difficulty fitting in, constantly worrying about doing something wrong, and struggling to figure out what other people expected of them. Some of those experiences can sound a lot like autism.
In some cases, religious trauma seemed to explain their difficulties better than autism. In others, autism was clearly part of the picture. And sometimes, we couldn't confidently sort it out. There was so much overlap in their experiences that it wasn't clear what came from their religious upbringing, what might reflect neurodivergence, or whether both were involved.
I wanted to write this for anyone who's trying to figure out whether their experiences are related to autism, religious trauma, or both. Think of it a little like sitting with me in therapy as we try to untangle a bunch of knotted threads. Sometimes we can follow a strand and begin to understand where it came from. Other times, things are so tangled together that we can't quite separate them. And that's part of what makes this work complicated.
A Sense of Not Fitting In and Difficulty Connecting
When I'm exploring autism with clients, I often ask about childhood friendships. Some people who grew up in religious communities tell me they had tons of friends. There were youth groups, church activities, and social gatherings. But sometimes, when we look closer, everyone was included simply because they belonged to the same church.
For some autistic people, that structure made socializing easier. But someone who isn't autistic might also struggle to make friends after leaving a community where their social life was already organized for them.
Think about your own experiences. Did you struggle to connect with people even within your religious community, or did those difficulties become more noticeable after leaving? Were you confused by unspoken social rules, or did you feel different because you didn't share the beliefs and expectations of those around you?
Masking and Fear of Rejection
Autistic masking often involves hiding natural behaviors or consciously changing how you interact with others to fit in. Maybe you learned to stop fidgeting, make eye contact even when it was uncomfortable, or rehearse conversations so you wouldn't stand out.
Growing up in a high-control religious environment can also teach you to hide parts of yourself. Perhaps you learned to keep your opinions to yourself, watch your tone, or act like you agreed with teachings you privately questioned. You knew there could be consequences for stepping outside what was expected. And if you're autistic, you may have been doing both.
Something worth considering is what you were trying to hide and why. Were you trying to make your natural way of communicating or moving less noticeable? Were you afraid of being judged or punished for questioning religious expectations? Or had those experiences become so intertwined that you weren't sure anymore?
Social Withdrawal: Why Do You Prefer Being Alone?
When someone tells me they spend a lot of time alone, I want to know what makes being alone preferable.
For some autistic people, socializing can be exhausting, especially when they're trying to keep up with conversations, manage sensory overload, or navigate unfamiliar expectations. They may genuinely enjoy spending time with people but need considerable time alone afterward.
For someone recovering from religious trauma, being alone might feel safer after years of judgment, rejection, or pressure to conform. They may also have lost most of their social circle after leaving their religious community.
Think about what happens when you're around people you trust, where you don't have to worry about being judged. Do you still find socializing exhausting or overwhelming? Does being alone help with sensory overload, or does it give you relief from worrying about other people's reactions? Maybe it's some combination.
And sometimes, you simply enjoy your own company. That doesn't necessarily need an explanation.
Rules, Routines, and Questioning Authority
Some autistic people appreciate clear rules because they make expectations more predictable. But that doesn't mean they automatically accept rules they don't understand or agree with.
I've worked with autistic adults who remember questioning religious teachings from a young age. They noticed contradictions, wanted explanations, or couldn't understand why they were supposed to believe something just because an authority figure said so. Of course, they often learned to keep those questions to themselves.
In high-control religious environments, following rules can also be about avoiding punishment, rejection, or guilt. You may have learned that questioning authority wasn't allowed, even when something didn't make sense to you.
Looking back, were rules comforting because they helped you know what to expect? Did you follow them because you feared what would happen if you didn't? Did you question them privately while appearing obedient to everyone else?
For some people, the answer is a little bit of everything.
Anxiety: What Are You Actually Afraid Of?
Anxiety comes up quite a bit when I'm exploring autism and religious trauma with clients. But I want to understand what's making someone anxious.
For some autistic people, anxiety may come from unpredictable situations, sensory overload, or not knowing what's expected of them. Someone who's experienced religious trauma might worry about making the wrong decision, disappointing their family, or facing consequences for questioning what they were taught. I've also worked with people who no longer believe in hell but still feel afraid of going there.
One question worth asking yourself is whether your anxiety is mostly connected to judgment, punishment, or religious expectations, or whether you've also struggled with uncertainty, sensory overwhelm, and unfamiliar situations throughout your life.
Sensory Sensitivities: Autism, Trauma, or Both?
When someone tells me they're sensitive to noise, lights, smells, or touch, I want to know what that experience has been like throughout their life.
Autistic sensory differences may have been present since childhood, even if nobody recognized them. Maybe you've always struggled with scratchy clothing, crowded rooms, or certain sounds. Religious trauma can also affect how you respond to your surroundings, especially when something reminds you of experiences that felt threatening or overwhelming.
For example, does loud music bother you in lots of settings, or do certain worship songs bring up anxiety because of what you experienced at church? Maybe it's both. And if you were autistic and grew up in a religious environment where your sensory needs were dismissed, those experiences may be even harder to untangle.
Thinking about when your sensitivities began, what situations bring them up, and whether they change depending on how safe you feel can offer some clues.
Physical Intimacy, Purity Culture, and Religious Trauma
If you grew up in a religious environment that emphasized purity and modesty, you may have been taught that sexual activity was only acceptable within marriage. Even experiencing sexual attraction or desire could bring up guilt or shame. Yet once you were married, sex may have been presented as an obligation, particularly for women.
For some autistic people, physical intimacy can also be complicated by sensory differences. Certain kinds of touch, smells, or physical sensations may feel uncomfortable or overwhelming, even with someone they love and trust.
I've worked with women who spent years wondering why intimacy was so difficult for them. Was it the shame they learned growing up, even about having sexual desires in the first place? Were certain kinds of touch genuinely uncomfortable? Or had they become so accustomed to ignoring their own preferences that they weren't sure what they actually wanted?
Sometimes it's difficult to separate these experiences, and they can certainly coexist. Regardless of what's contributing to someone's discomfort, their boundaries and preferences deserve to be respected.
Can It Be Both Autism and Religious Trauma?
Absolutely. And sometimes we can't confidently determine how much each is contributing.
When exploring autism, I look at someone's developmental history, whether certain experiences have been present across different environments, and how their experiences may have changed over time. But when someone has grown up in a high-control religious environment, even their childhood experiences can be difficult to interpret.
I've had situations where we couldn't reach a clear conclusion, and I think it's important to be honest about that rather than force an answer.
You can still work on understanding your needs, setting boundaries, and addressing the effects of religious trauma even if you're uncertain whether you're autistic.
Finding a Therapist Who Understands Autism and Religious Trauma
If you're trying to figure out whether you're autistic, dealing with religious trauma, or both, I'd encourage you to look for a neurodivergent-affirming therapist who also understands religious trauma. Finding someone with experience in both areas can be challenging, but we do exist!
You might start by asking for recommendations in online communities or support groups for neurodivergent adults or people recovering from religious trauma. When you find someone, take a look at how they talk about these experiences on their website or professional profiles. Are they using outdated language like Asperger's? Do they seem to understand high-control religious environments, or do they assume religion itself is the problem? Are they comfortable with self-identification and the possibility that trauma and autism can overlap?
I'd also pay attention to how you feel talking with them. Can you ask questions? Do they seem interested in understanding your experiences rather than jumping to conclusions? You should feel comfortable disagreeing with your therapist, too.
I'm Dr. Christine Henry, a licensed psychologist who works with late-identified ADHD, autistic, and AuDHD adults, as well as people recovering from religious trauma. I've explored these questions with many clients, including during autism assessments, and sometimes there isn't a clear answer right away.
Therapy with me is a conversation. We can look at your experiences growing up, what you've learned about yourself since questioning your religious upbringing, and what might help you now. I don't believe you need a formal autism diagnosis to begin that work.
Therapy is available online in Houston, Texas, Austin, Texas, Indiana, Ohio, and other eligible PSYPACT states. I offer a free 20-minute consultation if you'd like to talk about whether working together would be a good fit.
Need some more time before diving into therapy?
It's okay to take the time to contemplate this decision.
Trusting someone can feel overwhelming.
Religious Trauma Resources
If you're still trying to make sense of your religious upbringing, I've put together a collection of resources that may help. You'll find articles, podcasts, and online support groups for people who are questioning their beliefs, leaving high-control religious environments, or recovering from religious trauma.
Sometimes just hearing other people describe experiences similar to yours can be helpful, especially if you've spent years wondering whether you were overreacting or making a big deal out of nothing.
There's no pressure to figure everything out right away. You're welcome to explore these resources at your own pace, and if you decide you'd like to talk, you're always welcome to reach out.
Frequently Asked Questions
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Yes. Late diagnosed autism and religious trauma can both involve anxiety, masking, fear of rejection, social confusion, sensory sensitivity, and difficulty trusting yourself. The difference is often in where those patterns came from, how early they started, and what was expected of you in your family, school, church, or religious community.
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One thing to explore is whether these experiences have been present throughout your life and in different settings, or whether they developed in response to your religious environment. But it's not always that clear, especially if you grew up in a high-control community. Sometimes we can't confidently separate the two.
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Yes. Religious trauma can make masking more intense because you may have learned that being fully yourself was unsafe, selfish, sinful, rebellious, disrespectful, or “too much.” If you are autistic, this can layer on top of neurodivergent masking and make it even harder to know what is actually you versus what you learned to perform to stay accepted.
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Many high control religious environments teach people to doubt their own thoughts, instincts, bodies, desires, and emotions. If you are also autistic, you may have already been told your reactions were too intense, too literal, too sensitive, or wrong. Over time, that can make self trust feel almost impossible. Rebuilding it usually takes time and a lot of gentleness.
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Yes. Some people leave religion completely. Some rebuild a different kind of faith. Some keep parts of their spirituality and let go of the systems that harmed them. There is no one right outcome. Healing from religious trauma is not about being pushed toward belief or disbelief. It is about having enough safety and freedom to decide what is true for you.
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Both can involve social difficulties, anxiety, masking, and discomfort with uncertainty. A careful assessment looks at developmental history and how someone's experiences have changed over time, but religious trauma can complicate that history. Sometimes there isn't enough information to reach a confident conclusion.
Dr. Christine Henry, Licensed Psychologist
Dr. Henry is a late diagnosed neurodivergent psychologist who focuses in working with late diagnosed autism and ADHD. In addition, she has a specialization in helping individuals recover from religious trauma and spiritual abuse. She provides online counseling for clients in 38 states across the United States.