Living with trauma from religious backgrounds can leave scars that are difficult to heal, but for one couple, their new home was meant to be a sanctuary from that past.
They made the decision to create a no-religion space, free from any religious symbols, discussions, or practices.
The problem arose when the mother of one partner, a devout Catholic, was asked to comply with these rules.
Her refusal to remove her cross necklace led to a tense standoff.






















The argument sounds like it’s about a necklace and a few “church stories,” but it’s really a collision between lived trauma and a parent’s lifelong habit of making faith the center of every room.
In the OP’s case, she and her girlfriend finally have a home that belongs to them, and they are trying to protect it from an influence that has historically brought conflict, shame, and fear.
The OP grew up in a rigid Catholic environment, where weekly church and constant prayer were treated as defaults, not choices.
Her mother has “mellowed,” yet still pushes invitations and religious talk that the OP has already declined.
Meanwhile, the girlfriend’s history is heavier: she was outed as a child and then abused and disowned under religious justification.
Put together, their “no-religion space” rule reads less like a quirky lifestyle preference and more like a safety policy written by experience.
The opposing view is not hard to predict. To the mother, religion is identity, community, and social language. If 80% of her stories happen at church, banning church talk can feel like banning her personality.
Being asked to cover a cross necklace likely feels humiliating, like being told she’s acceptable only if she edits herself at the door.
Friends calling the rule “revenge” are reacting to that optics problem: the boundary looks so strict that it can resemble punishment, even if the intention is protection.
Motivations matter here. The couple’s rule seems driven by nervous-system realism: certain words, symbols, and rituals can cue memories and body responses that do not politely wait outside the living room.
That pattern is consistent with how clinician-writers describe religious trauma.
Psychologist Marlene Winell defines Religious Trauma Syndrome as “the condition experienced by people who are struggling with leaving an authoritarian, dogmatic religion and coping with the damage of indoctrination.”
In that framing, the “no symbols, no praying” rule isn’t petty. It’s an attempt to control triggers in the one place they’re supposed to feel safe.
This story also plugs into a bigger social issue: family rejection and religious rejection can be psychologically expensive, especially for LGBTQ people.
A 2025 open-access study reports that 46.1% of participants had experienced religious rejection because of gender identity at some point, and the paper links religious rejection with increased depression, anxiety, and suicidal ideation.
Even when parents keep a relationship on the surface, ongoing pressure and “faith-first” framing can still function like rejection when it dismisses identity or boundaries.
On the flip side, research in Annals of LGBTQ Public and Population Health found that family acceptance is strongly protective for LGBTQ youth, and that protective association holds across religious groups.
The takeaway is blunt: acceptance helps, and religious conflict can harm, so the couple’s instinct to defend their home environment is not irrational.
Advice is to tighten the boundary’s purpose while softening its delivery: the couple can keep a rule against proselytizing, prayers directed at them, and religious debates in the home, while considering a more practical compromise on passive items like a small necklace if it’s not used as a conversation starter.
They can also define visit terms in advance (duration, topics to avoid, and what happens if the boundary is crossed) and frame it as “house rules that protect mental health,” not “rules that erase her.”
Guidance on adult family boundaries often emphasizes that limits work best when they are clear, consistent, and not delivered as character judgments.
At the center of the conflict is a simple message the OP has been trying to live, not just say: this new apartment is the first place where she and her girlfriend get to decide what feels safe, and religion has not felt safe for either of them.
When the mother insists that faith must follow her into every space, she isn’t only sharing beliefs, she’s reopening old wounds.
The couple isn’t obligated to host that dynamic in their own home, yet if they want a relationship with her, they may need boundaries that protect peace without turning every visit into a symbolic exile.
Here’s what Redditors had to say:
These users were supportive of the OP’s decision to set clear rules about religious discussions in their home, but disagreed with the demand to remove religious jewelry, like the cross necklace.








These commenters strongly disagreed with the OP, labeling their actions as petty and controlling.








These users highlighted the deeper issue of unresolved trauma between the OP and their mother.













Some users were more empathetic toward the OP’s need for a secular space, agreeing that banning religious discussions and symbols from the home could be necessary for the OP’s comfort.




![Woman Bans Religion From Her Home To Protect Her Girlfriend’s Trauma, Mother Loses It [Reddit User] − YTA. I was with you until you asked her to remove or cover her necklace.](https://dailyhighlight.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/02/wp-editor-1770089860899-67.webp)

These users took a more emotional stance, suggesting that the OP was being just as unaccepting as their mother by limiting her expression of faith.














A couple of users suggested that while the OP’s rules about religious discussions in their home are valid, their approach was passive-aggressive.








![Woman Bans Religion From Her Home To Protect Her Girlfriend’s Trauma, Mother Loses It [Reddit User] − You're taking things a bit too far here and acting very much like a militant anti-theist.](https://dailyhighlight.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/02/wp-editor-1770089604345-46.webp)


Creating boundaries in a shared space is essential, especially when both partners have experienced trauma. But the question remains: Is it fair to impose these rules on family, even when their presence brings discomfort?
The Redditor’s decision to limit religious influence in their home is driven by valid reasons, but should they have handled it differently with their mother, given their history?
What’s your take on the balance between setting personal boundaries and respecting family relationships? Share your thoughts below!










