Day 6 - The Wonderland of Weaponization: When God’s Word Becomes A Weapon
The Wonderland of Weaponization: When God’s Word Becomes A Weapon
Picture this: You’re holding a hot cup of cocoa, trying desperately to melt into the wallpaper at your Grandma's annual holiday dinner. The air is thick with the scent of pine and passive aggression. You’ve been using all of your therapy tools masterfully throughout the night and just calmly declined to engage in a yet another “debate” about your lifestyle choices for the tenth time.
Then it happens. Subtly, but deployed with quiet, sacred precision, your well-intentioned, boundary-inept Aunt reminds you exactly why you don't share personal things with your family. The phrase changes a little bit every year but every time it lands like an ornament strapped to an atomic bomb:
“ Your parents do so much for you and it's important that you honor them and be grateful. The Bible always commands us to honor our father and mother. Don't forget that.”
The energy of the room shifts. A personal boundary isn’t just a boundary anymore. You’re no longer just an adult setting a limit; you’re a rebellious child spitting on the Fifth Commandment. The subtext is crystal clear: Your comfort is a lesser priority than their authority. Your authenticity is an act of sin.
If your gut just twisted up in knots reading that, welcome in, you filthy animal. You’re not being dramatic. You’re recognizing the way wisdom can be weaponized in real time. And it forces you into the season’s most rigged game: The Attachment vs. Authenticity. (This probably isn’t the first time you’ve had to play this game either).
The Holiday Hostage Situation
When I think of this power play, I am often reminded of Buddy the elf. Buddy is overflowing with authenticity. He is unapologetically joyful, he eats spaghetti with syrup, he hugs strangers. The “normal” world tells him to sit down, be quiet, and act appropriate to belong. In order to keep his new attachment to his estranged father, he has to betray his authentic, syrupy self.
Weaponized “honor” does the same thing. It presents you with a choice that leaves you damned either way:
Door #1: Authenticity. Speak your truth. Hold your boundary. Admit something hurts. But risk being labeled the problem, the one who’s “too much” or “too sensitive.” You might preserve your soul, but you could lose your seat at the table.
Door #2: Attachment. Bite your tongue. Perform your role. Keep the peace. You keep your place in the family script and avoid the heavenly side-eye. But you sell out your gut feelings, your values, and your peace of mind to do it.
It’s a masterclass in making your legitimate need for respect look like the one thing that will blow up the whole Christmas dinner. The system whispers: Choose yourself, and you will be exiled.
Spoiler Alert: One of these doors has cookies! Choose wisely!
The Soul’s Stress Fracture (Aka Moral Injury)
This impossible choice creates a moral injury. It’s not just “my family hurt me.” It’s “my family hurt me, and in order to honor that pain and find healing, I must disobey God. But if I want to obey God, I must pretend I’m not hurt.” Talk about a mindfuck!
Imagine if Buddy decided to forgo his naturally joyful self in order to fit into his dad's corporate lifestyle and then thanked him for the opportunity to self-abandon. The message is clear: your pain is less important than the pageant. No wonder you feel spiritually unmoored every year.
Reframing the Script: What If Honoring Yourself Is the Point?
Let’s get subversive for a minute.
What if “honor” is a two-way street that requires basic respect and safety to even exist?
What if the most honorable thing you can do is stop a harmful cycle in its tracks?
What if a boundary isn’t disrespect, but instead invites us to collaborate on building a foundation for a real, authentic relationship with each other?
You can’t genuinely honor anyone from a place of self-abandonment. That’s not virtue. That’s spiritual coercion. Protecting your peace isn’t a sin; it’s the prerequisite for showing up anywhere as a sane, grounded human. You can’t give people the gift presence from an empty, resentful cup (even if you put marshmallows in it).
How to Navigate the Rigged Game
You might not rewrite the family liturgy this year. But you can change your response to it.
Spot the Game Show. When you feel that knot in your stomach, the one that says “speak up or shut up” just name it. “Ah yes. Once again I am being presented with the choice to pursue attachment or authenticity. The family system is just testing my boundaries.” Recognition takes its power down a notch.
Redefine ‘Honor’ on Your Own Terms. Maybe honoring your parents means building a life so healthy, it highlights what wasn’t okay. Maybe it looks like a calm reminder, “I am not interested in participating in this conversation. Maybe it’s simply realizing you can protect your own peace, and even enjoy the silence.
Hold Two Cards at Once. This is the pro move. Can you be both grateful for the good and clear about the harm? Can you be present with your family and still acknowledge the real dysfunction? You don't have to choose between attachment and authenticity forever. You’re building a primary, unshakeable attachment to your own truth. From there, you can decide what else fits.
You are not required to set yourself on fire to keep your family warm, and then call the ashes “filial piety.” The most revolutionary holiday miracle might be giving yourself the gift of realizing your imperfect, authentic life is a wonderful, honorable life.
If You're Tired of Playing a Rigged Game
Healing from this specific brand of spiritual pressure means building a self-worth that’s bulletproof to guilt-trips, manipulation, and existential power plays. It’s about crafting a practice, or a core philosophy, that feels like a foundation for you, rather than a cage.
If you’re done choosing between being the “good” child and being a whole person, I hear you. In my practice, we cut through the coercion and build that solid, authentic self who can decide how to engage moving forward, from a place of agency, not fear.
Ready to opt out of the game show? Let’s talk. I offer free 20-minute consultations to see if we’re a good fit, and how I can best support you.
Click here to schedule your consult. You deserve a love that doesn’t ask you to disappear.