Once Upon a Time in My Oceania

  This time of year is always bittersweet for me and a lot of other survivors out there. I remember a lot of traumas around Christmastime and New Years, also a lot of sickness. There was a lot of pressure to do a lot of things and be a certain way. There was caroling, a Christmas play where you’d have to perform and sing, often very ill, and a ton of get togethers to attend. And then, there were a lot of tough feelings and emotions as you either gathered or didn’t with people who were, well, super hurtful. It can be a triggering time of year. There can be a lot of loss and grief. But there is also joy for me. Well, now there is…. For the past few years, I’ve decided with a heart full of purpose to enjoy my time here on earth and make every Christmas one that I remember. Most often that looks like living in the moment. I have a tree, a Christmas village that lights up, and I put Christmas lights on the balcony. There are stockings hung. I have cards from friends and even strange...

  I recently enjoyed a fantastic vacation down South. While making that drive, as a religious abuse survivor, I was greatly aware of signs and messages with religious sentiments being shared and often in fearful ways. This is nothing new as I’ve grown up in the Bible Belt and as a former fundamentalist, the tactic is one I know all too well. But it seemed that the further south I went, the more prominent these messages became. I continued to see billboards, stating they were truth. “Repent,” the Sinner’s Prayer, and the fact that I needed Jesus were constantly thrown in my face while making that drive down Interstate 95. It didn’t always bother me. Sometimes, I would laugh. Other times, I’d feel my stomach twist. I even reminded myself that they have a right to speak freely. Then there were the moments that I let out a relieved and yet frustrated breath. I hated that kind of “in your face” witnessing. I hated Chick Tracts, knocking on doors each Saturday, passing out Gospel tracts,...

  Christmas used to be banned while I was just a child growing up in the IFB world. With the often complexity that can sometimes be in homes and in churches in that environment, some members would celebrate, and others would not. Some embraced Christmas trees and Santa to a degree, while others swore such things were complete evil and would shun them. In my experience, the first IFB church to influence my family had shunned everything to do with the holiday, including gift giving. My family celebrated gift giving on a day that emphasized thanks and gratefulness more, and that was on Thanksgiving. This tradition brings back a lot of fond memories for me and as child I would be so excited to get my gifts a whole month earlier than most kids. However, when I reached a certain age and realized that others, especially the outside world, celebrated Christmas in a more acceptable way, I longed to experience that Christmas spirit in the same way. My first Christmas was when I reached the...

  I prayed for revival. I wept and cried, pleaded, and begged that God would send a mighty awakening in the IFB movement. At the time, I didn’t know I was praying for the Independent Fundamental Baptists; only that I was praying for Christians. I was taught real Christians were independent, fundamental and Baptist though. We were the “saved” ones, the separated, and sanctified. And because of those things and the teachings I grew up with (not to mention the fear), believed with my whole heart. I took the “man of God’s” words seriously and I did as was told. So, I prayed. I prayed God would revive us. I never got to see a mighty revival overcome the IFB. Not over the years I was there. I struggled to understand why that was the case when so many of us had to have taken that seriously and followed the rules. Before I left, I realized it would never happen. When I heard that I and other young people were at fault for the absence of revival, I felt betrayed. It wounded me and others ...

  Part of recovering from a cult is healing the parts of you that the cult hurt. In my case, a cult controlled, and its fear ruled my entire childhood. There are only photographs of my childhood days in cult clothes and doing most activities connected to the church. It’s very hard for me to even look at these photos without feeling a deep-rooted sorrow for my child self. I know now what I had missed, but mostly am aware of what was taken. I’ve been out closer to a decade after spending my first adult years as well inside. There is no secret key to healing from a cult experience. But there are strategies through things like professional counseling and connecting to survivor communities and such that can prove helpful. I’m not simply healing from a cult (although there is nothing “simple” about surviving a cult), I’m also healing from emotional, verbal, mental, physical and sexual abuse and overall neglect. It impacted my everyday life, has touched even my future in ways like diffi...

  Learning to be vulnerable after growing up isolated from the real world and being unable to trust the people you were taught were supposed to be trustworthy can leave a survivor struggling to connect post cult. Finding those who won’t judge you or exploit your cult experience can be difficult, adding to that struggle. Because surviving a cultic environment is often a traumatic experience, walking away may also mean walking away with chronic mental health issues such as Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, and anxiety and depression, not to mention other types of illnesses that were left untreated for a member’s time inside of their cult. The point is that learning to trust others on the outside enough to be vulnerable can be extremely, extremely difficult for survivors. And yet, doing both those things (being vulnerable and trusting) are necessary in making meaningful connections. Building a new safe circle is important. Many of those that leave religiously abusive environments lose...

  Upon waking up after leaving a cult and finding myself grappling with that fact, I also started to grieve. I grieved my exit and what leaving cost me: access to family within it, loss of community and the people I knew all my life. And then there was the grief that comes along with realizing you were lied to, manipulated and controlled. Even the realization that the cause wasn't real, worthy or righteous: all of it I grieved.  I also started to see more clearly on all that the cult stole from me, including my childhood.  I don't blame my family for the things the cult stole. I understand too much on how people get sucked into an religiously abusive group and I believe they joined because they believed it was not only the best thing to do, but the only right decision. As much as it can be frustrating and easy to do, I try not to direct my frustration at them. I remember well how controlling and manipulating the Independent Fundamental Baptist movement was and I have no d...

  The search for personal identity isn't reserved solely for those that leave a cult-ish group. Many of us are actively looking for our unique selfs, that one thing that separates us from others, all while bringing us together with our "tribe." To identify with others and find community.  This very thing is often exploited by abusive groups and cults use it to their advantage while recruiting new members. They offer all the answers, the community, that sense of belonging and purpose many search for. They exploit the very humanist of experiences–the ability to be a part of a family not created by blood. To know who you are. Because of this particular exploitation, they separate a new member from their very self, manipulating them into taking on their new cult identity, convincing them in the process that it's the "true" them. Much like trauma, there is the you before a cult, and if you leave, the you after it. Some of us only have the cult identity and nothin...

If leaving a high control group was difficult, the steps afterwards are equally difficult, and trust me, they are. Taking that scary first step out will be the hardest and most emotional decision you will ever face, even if it is always the absolute right decision in leaving a controlling group, church or relationship. But the days after successfully making that exit are just the beginning of a long and sometimes tedious journey.  Recently during a conversation on trying to navigate life post-cult, the statement was made that every decision, every obstacle is a mountain. Something simple and ordinary to most individuals can seem as a mountain and one that, in order to move forward, a cult survivor has no choice but to climb. I've climbed a lot of mountains in my life. I've made that heartbreaking feat of surviving abuse, of fighting for a sense of justice. I told an unsavory character just recently, "I stared down my abuser at 12 years old, you don't...

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 ...