Once Upon a Time in My Oceania

Trigger Warning: Domestic Violence I can't say I ever witnessed a happy marriage in my time in fundamentalism. Not one couple comes to mind over those twenty-one years where I feel were a relationship to look up to, to use as an example of what to look for in a future partner. The relationships I witnessed were often replicas of each other, with the power dynamics of each one appearing very much the same. The first thing I automatically think of is the fact men called the shots, even for their own wives. Very rarely (if ever) did I witness a woman making a decision without the greenlight by their husband. I knew wives who couldn't even go on a grocery run without their husband's permission. Every step had to be approved by their husband or else it was a step out of line. The inability to make decisions for themselves like where to go, what to wear, how to style their hair or how to apply their make-up are just a few examples. Women were admonished for simple things

Me as a child. IFB was all I knew.                                   I didn't ask to be born into the world of Christian Fundamentalism and certainly if I had a say in the matter, I'd never choose the Independent Fundamental Baptist movement to be the only world I knew. Although those are not my regrets to bear because I was just a child, I still grieve the years that I feel were stolen from me by a choice not made of my own choosing. I often explain it like this...my parents, who were my introduction to that world, were converted but I was conditioned.  From birth, I was groomed for a life in that movement, taught that to leave could even mean the death of myself or someone I loved. I was never meant to leave, never meant to have a life outside of the IFB Church. I was to marry an IFB man and produce more third generation Independent Fundamental Baptists in my family. I was to serve the church, the pastor, the cause.  Not find myself as a fish out of

Dear Friend, No, we haven't met, although there's a good chance that if you're reading this, we've lived very similar lives. That being said, I'm not going to pretend that, even with the similarities, I know what you have been through. I just want to say I see you. You, who are struggling, carrying the heavy burden of indecision, of fear, of the unknown. You, who feel miserable, wondering when that started and where that misery came from. I see you. You, who are tired, downtrodden, forcing your head to stay above water. Confused on why The Master of The Sea has even allowed you to start drowning in the first place. You, who feel guilty, ashamed and discouraged. Wondering, why you just can't be happy, serve your god, be a Christian. You, who past memories haunt, are relived every day. The wounds of abuse still feel so raw and you wonder when they'll ever start to scab over, scar. Heal. I see you. And I weep with you. Y