A few days ago I was watching The Nosedive episode of Black Mirror on Netflix. The Black Mirror series is a show about how humanity’s reliance on technology puts us in difficult and life-altering situations. In this episode, Bryce Dallas Howard plays a character named Lacie, who lives in a society where people use “likes” for currency. There is no paper money or change like we use today. Likes are the currency. Lacie, who is simply trying to buy an apartment, is told by the leasing agent that in order to get the one she really wants, she needs to increase her currency to qualify for the lease. She’s then advised to have more meaningful social interactions with people with higher currency in order to increase the chances her currency increases. Lacie needs to fit in.
I’ve watched this episode at least eight times, and this last time as I watched, I thought about the cost of a higher currency in Lacie’s story. She consistently and intentionally socialized to increase her currency. But her meeting with the apartment leasing agent forced her to confront her position as an outsider. She decided at that moment that she would do whatever it took to get the likes and increase her currency, even if it meant faking it to make it. What Lacie was not prepared for was the emotional toll it would take on her. The cost of currency.
Anyone that has adhered to an unhealthy religious doctrine may be able to relate to the process costing you in ways you didn't expect to pay. At this point, Lacie finds herself in awkward situations in attempts to impress others. She deliberately posts on social media to attract the attention of high currency people in her network, in an effort to be liked, to fit in. She feigns cheer and excitement around her peers in order to get scored higher when the interaction is over. She’s overzealous with giving compliments and people pleasing, with the expectation that her score will increase with each interaction.
Over the course of the episode, Lacie does everything possible to make it to an event where she’s likely to get high scores. On her journey to this event she has a series of mishaps that cause her to lose points. Lacie becomes frantic as her score plummets. Not only is she realizing the apartment she desires is getting further from her reach, but she’s also learning the cost of currency. By the time she makes it to the event, she’s stressed out, exhausted, belligerent, and filthy. We watch her go from being a happy optimist about her rising currency, to disheveled and delirious. It ends with her having a public emotional breakdown.
My journey through religion, in my early years, was a lot like Lacie’s. I remember having a deep desire to fit in, especially in my late teens and early twenties. I’d always felt different, but I didn’t feel like I fit into my religious context at all. I was desperate to get along. This was the family that helped raise me. These were my lifelong friends. This setting would help guide me to heaven. I was willing to suppress my opposition towards the doctrine and do whatever necessary to avoid being rejected. I was well aware of how contrary my thoughts and questions were, so I kept quiet. I didn’t agree with the dress code, but I figured I could at least wear what was required to avoid any negative backlash.
I attended all of my church’s events locally and nationally. I sat through worship services feeling like I was destined to live out my life walking on a tightrope to avoid hell. I sat in young women’s meetings where older women placed the responsibility of maintaining our church’s sexual ethics squarely on our shoulders. No, seriously, we were told having our toes out in our shoes and wearing sleeveless tops that showed our armpits was seductive to our male peers.
By my late teens, early twenties, I’d mastered the art of performative behavior. By that, I mean I’d crafted two versions of myself in order to fit into the group. I knew how to put on a performance depending on the context. It was incredibly stressful, having to monitor my every move. By the time I was in middle school I’d been diagnosed with a severe case of ulcers. I also suffered from severe migraines and a host of other aches and pains.
When I think back about it now as a therapist, I understand a lot of those issues were symptoms of anxiety. I was trying to fit into my religious context to avoid burning in hell after I died, while currently living in my housing project as a “church girl” trying to fit in with “regular” kids. I was literally at war internally. Nothing lined up. What my church taught me about the “unsaved” people who did not subscribe to our doctrine did not align with my lived experience with those “unsaved” people. I didn’t know how to escape the stress of having to be two different people. Trying to live holy, according to my church’s doctrine, had robbed me. The price I paid, my currency like Lacie’s, was my peace. I was completely unaware that while I was getting along externally, I’d completely lost myself.
I’m well aware that my experience is not unique. If you think hard enough, you probably have a similar story. What’s an experience in your religious context where you felt the price you paid was your peace? What finally brought it to your attention? Were you able to reconcile it? Share your story.