Religious Love
Title: “God Loves You, But I Don’t”: The Weaponization of Love in Religious Upbringings Against the LGBTQ+ Community
Disclaimer: This article is a satirical and critical exploration of the concept of love as expressed within certain religious households. All characters, settings, and narratives are fictitious and are intended for commentary purposes only.
Love is Patient. Love is Kind. Except When It's Not.
In many religious households, "love" is the ultimate virtue. It's preached from the pulpit, written in sacred texts, stitched onto throw pillows, and weaponized like an emotional nuke when your identity doesn’t align with what they think God intended.
For a generation of LGBTQ+ youth growing up under the watchful eyes of religious authority figures, love was not a warm embrace—it was conditional acceptance with a catch: change who you are, and maybe we’ll consider not hating you.
Love, As a Control Mechanism
Let’s call it what it really is: control masquerading as love. Because in these environments, love isn’t love—it’s an instrument of power used to force conformity. The “I love you, but…” is the emotional booby trap rigged to explode the moment you step out of line.
“I love you, but I can’t support your lifestyle.”
“I love you, but God hates the sin.”
“I love you, but you're going to Hell.”
Notice the pattern? The "but" always invalidates the love. It's not love if it comes with a threat.
Trauma in The Name of God
Imagine being told you are fearfully and wonderfully made and then being psychologically waterboarded into thinking your queerness is a defect. Imagine being five years old, learning about unconditional love, only to discover it comes with a 10-point moral checklist you didn’t write.
This is not love. This is trauma laced with theology.
Religious love, in these settings, becomes a form of soft abuse—a steady erosion of identity masked as righteousness. And what’s worse? It’s often done by the people who are supposed to protect and cherish you: parents, pastors, teachers.
The Trophy Child Syndrome
Many religious parents don’t love you—they love the idea of you. The version of you that exists in their fantasies: straight, obedient, devout, and a perfect reflection of their own broken dreams and unresolved trauma.
You are not their child. You are their redemption arc. A performance. A vessel. And the moment you deviate from the script, the love turns cold.
“We raised you better than this.” No, you raised me scared. You raised me ashamed.
LGBTQ+ Love and the Broken Mirror
When your first experience with "love" is soaked in shame and disapproval, you internalize the idea that you must earn love. That you must contort, perform, or suffer to be worthy of affection. You become so desperate for real connection that when someone does show you kindness, you open your heart completely—hoping, praying, begging not to be broken again.
But that desperation also leaves you vulnerable. Because you’ve been taught that pain and love are intertwined. That real love hurts. That love is sacrifice—even when the only one bleeding is you.
Modern Love vs. Religious Love
The modern understanding of love is unconditional, affirming, and safe. It’s about mutual respect and emotional safety—not power dynamics and moral ultimatums.
But religious love often fails to evolve. It clings to ancient dogmas and patriarchal frameworks. It still views being "different" as being less than. And when it does offer love, it's usually the kind of love that comes with a pamphlet and a passive-aggressive invitation to conversion therapy.
You Deserve Real Love
Let’s be clear: You are lovable. Right now. As you are. No conditions. No terms. No “but.”
Real love sees you. It doesn't try to fix you. It doesn’t flinch at your scars or demand you repackage your identity to fit someone else’s theology. It holds you in your wholeness.
So What Now?
- Reject conditional love. You don’t owe loyalty to anyone who makes their acceptance of you dependent on denial of yourself.
- Reclaim your worth. You’re not broken. You were just loved wrong.
- Build chosen families. If your blood family uses love as leverage, find people who love without strings.
TL;DR: Religious love, when wrapped in shame and control, isn't love—it's manipulation dressed in scripture. And for many LGBTQ+ individuals, the wounds it leaves are deep, invisible, and lifelong. But healing is possible. Real love exists. And you deserve it—not despite who you are, but because of who you are.
P.S. If no one told you today: You are enough. You are worthy. You are loved. Take care of yourself, and don’t let anyone spiritual-gaslight you out of your humanity.
