Once Upon a Time in My Oceania

  By  Laurie Penoyer-Phillips Purity Culture doesn't just suppress, enslave, and harm Christian women psychologically, emotionally, relationally, and spiritually...Believe it or not, Christian  men  are targets, too. It recently occurred to me as I contemplated the depth of this deceptive and divisive subject, that the types of Christians who participate so willingly and fully embrace Purity Culture, especially Independent Fundamental Baptists (my personal upbringing) and the like, are really "man-haters" even more than they are misogynistic. Purity Culture (PC), and the Christians who uphold it, treat all men  as totally helpless, mindlessly rutting and grunting, sex-driven Neanderthals who walk, and talk, and think with their penises. It's really quite insulting when you think about it .  In their version of manhood ,  all men remain sexually , emotionally, and intellectually immature way past puberty. Ever-hormonally charged and lust-drive...

  By Ida McGrail Women are taught in many Christian circles that their worth comes from the mere fact that they are a virgin. It becomes a part of their identity. Stay pure, they say. True love waits. In youth group we wore the promise rings and signed the purity pledges. We read books like “I Kissed Dating Goodbye.”  We were admonished not to kiss our significant other; some of us could not even hold their hands. From a very young age, girls were taught that their virginity was what defined them, and without it, we were just “damaged goods” or “a rose that had all its petals plucked.” These dangerous lies filled my head for years, culminating when I was sexually assaulted at the age of 12. It warped my view of myself, sending me down a road of depression and self harm for the next 13 years, until I was able to create and maintain a healthy view of myself, as I learned, finally, that it was not my fault. Coming to that conclusion, however, was a long road and a difficult one, ...

  By Noelle Myers One thing many survivors of cults have in common is a sense of a lost childhood. Of course, big things like Halloween and prom were absolutely forbidden. Allocated as “of the devil” and “sinful” these childhood rites of passage were looked at with longing, watched from the outside like the proverbial kid in a candy store window. More than that, for me, it was also not doing many things children get to do. I could never ride the quarter machines, because all our money went to the church. Dance class was out – as being worldly and sinful – moving your body was a no-no, and let’s not even think about a leotard or the (gasp) music. Skiing, swimming, and most sports were out because of violations of the church-imposed dress code.   Even going to the gym was frowned upon (for women at least) due to the large number of men present and the lack of a “moral” dress code.   I can’t speak to what it is or was like for men, although I personally noticed quite the d...

  By Anonymous When Lydia asked me if I’d like to write, I was torn. I have a lot of people in my life who are wonderful, and they don’t fit the into box of abusive or cult-like at all. But I did run into some people who were critical, condescending, and plain mean. I did try to do everything “right.” I thought if I did everything right, people would see that and be nice. I was wrong. It took me a few years to realize that some people would automatically oppose whatever my family and I offered the church. For example: activities. If they came to activities my husband had planned and was in charge of, they’d do their part with food or whatever but then they’d hang out in the other room and wouldn’t participate or see how well he was doing things. Of course some people were great. I am not talking about these people. Long story short, I went through a terrible depression. I don’t mean I was sad.  I mean I couldn’t function.  I couldn’t focus ...

  By Noelle Myers “Children should be seen and not heard” is a phrase many of us grew up with. This phrase is an old English proverb, dating from the 15th century and was written by an Augustinian clergyman. At that time, the phrase was not aimed specifically at young women. Yet it was something most of us, especially women, in the cult, knew and understood applied to us. It may not have been explicitly said, but it most certainly was implied. Women, in particular, were to be meek, silent, and submissive. We were to be “seen” (but only if we fit a certain mold – looked a certain way). As a child, many of us were taught not to speak unless spoken to, to remain meek and sweet, no matter what the circumstances, and to always, always acquiesce to “authority” (read: male) figures. The pastor was akin to God Himself, infallible, never to be questioned – but so were most of the men, especially those in positions of power. We were never to complain about anything, not the ice-cold French...

  By Laura Launderville A few weeks ago, I stopped to play the piano at my small town’s municipal building. Some days I feel drawn to the safety and freedom of feeling my fingers on the keys of a piano and the melody that flows from it. I learned to play the piano when I was fifteen. For years, I longed to be able to play and contribute a talent to the church and God. I had started to learn as a child but had forgotten how to play later on due to trauma. As a teen, I asked my twin sister, Lydia, to help me learn. She had been playing since the age of seven and was more than happy to help me. She also knew how special it was for me to learn. I finally learned and was able to contribute what little I could. For me though, music became an escape. I could play and my emotions, usually complex, would flow out in a melody. Learning to play, I, of course, had to learn hymns to play in church. Original music was discouraged unless the pastor could look over the lyrics to the song. Because ...

  A huge part of my journey of healing from my time in a religiously abusive environment has been using my voice to talk about that journey. It’s a unique journey and one that only some people will understand. Since 2017, I’ve written posts and articles about my experiences and the injustices I witnessed. Hearing directly from victims of cultic environments has been a humbling experience. Those conversations range near the hundreds (at least) of the number of times I’ve talked to survivors one-on-one, and their stories always left an impact on me. They still do. It took so much courage to speak up, to share, to be vulnerable. I found those very things to be true for me, whether having my own conversations with past members of the group I left (the Independent Fundamental Baptists), sharing my story with someone new that became part of my safe circles post-cult, writing this blog or having articles published on the topic. Saying out loud to another person, “I survived a cult” is dif...