Once Upon a Time in My Oceania

  They told me to wait. Don’t give your body till your wedding night. After that, you can never stop giving it. Guard your purity. Guard your testimony. Guard yourself. Also, be the guard for all men. Protect your testimony and theirs, too. Help them not lust. Be a shield for their eyes. Do not put on that skirt, that top, that color. Do not tempt them with certain looks, certain laughs, your secret charms that are also secret to you. Prevent sin at all costs. Do not be a temptress for your fathers, brothers, and brothers-in-Christ to stumble. Do not flirt, bat your eye lashes, use a soft and sweet voice unless you’re obedient. Men are unable to control natural urges. Your job is to help them out. All the while, women were never helped. We, women, were responsible for every crime involving men… except it was never considered a crime. It’s just how men are built, after all. Purity Culture only benefits the patriarchy.  

  What is peace? If you asked me as a fundamentalist, I would have answered “a peace of that passeth all understanding,” which because it was far beyond understanding, I never truly did, well, actually, understand it. I never felt peace in abuse. I never had piece of mind either. I just got through it. I wanted to have the capability to experience the peace that was preached but now I know it was simply not feasible in that environment. For many years, I was led to believe that the issue was with me, not the church. If I did everything exactly as I was taught, as the man of God proclaimed, as the Bible “clearly” stated, then, I would no doubt have that peace they always talked about. But I did not. I felt like an anomaly. The odd one, that I was one that had deep wounds that I had caused to myself where peace evaded. The irony is that I was always very confident in that world. I knew that I knew the teachings with my heart and my head. I knew the rules and believed in following...

  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,...

  From childhood, I was afraid of being stuck. I always cringed and felt nauseous watching Alice in Wonderland where Alice shrank and then grew tall inside that house until it exploded. I felt that my emotions and fears could be similar. There were actual instances that contributed to this fear and ones that I’m not yet ready to share with others outside of my close family and therapist. However, some instances include being locked in a room with abusive people or being tied up by those same abusers just for their entertainment. My wrists still sting as I remember the struggle and my chest burns at the memory of the panic. Just writing this, I broke out in a sweat. (PTSD is fun. Sarcasm, obviously.) The point is, being stuck has been a terrifying trigger for me created by traumatic events that caused it. It’s difficult to have complex trauma that contributed to my chronic Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. As my therapist told me a few months into our sessions over a year ago, not m...

  Confronting a past that has harmed you without any say from you is difficult. Trying to process the decisions and actions made by others against you is a new level of confusing. I remember when I was a young adult, and my one imprisoned abuser started the process to seek an early release after a few years into his sentence. I started to search for anything I could use to speak up on my behalf if the process ever made it farther. What happened was that I stumbled upon notes and information taken by social workers and the detective on my childhood abuse case. It was very difficult reading those notes, seeing the sadistic mindset of my abuser. I remember that when asked why he molested me as a child that his response was that I was “annoying.” In his abusive and twisted mind, he molested a child for being a child and to him who was annoying child at that. I remember the turmoil reading that unwarranted explanation caused in me. I was always told that I was annoying growing up and ...

  There are many things wrong with fundamentalism, in my opinion. I couldn’t get into all of them in a single post without exhausting myself in the process. But I think the teaching of separation, this command in many ways, is definitely one of the most problematic ones. I could point to the way fundamentalism uses this teaching to separate its members from outside resources in cases of abuse, the different ways separation can impact the next generation mentally, physically, and educationally, or even the fact that fundamentalism instills in its followers not to rely on others to a point that is unrealistic and entire families suffer because of it. There really are many aspects that I could share about where this teaching causes future damage to fundamentalists. I never needed to be separate. I didn’t need to remove myself from a world that could harm me. I did not need to pull myself away from the joy that human connection offers. I didn’t need to be saved, sanctified, and separ...

  A lot of people ask me often if my faith is intact after everything I’ve gone through. This is a question that I’ve received countless times as a survivor of church abuse and religious trauma. I suppose it’s a relevant question after growing up where religion was a prominent fixture in my life. My spiritual journey isn’t one I often talk about. Granted, I do share what I feel were problematic teachings that leant to the abuse I and others have experienced. But truly have I broken down my thoughts, feelings, and opinions on religion? No, I haven’t. I’m unlikely to completely start doing that now either. This is partly because like everything else, I’m still learning about it. In the beginning days on my journey, especially after leaving the IFB, I was extremely close to God. I found such healing and the ability to break away more freely with recognizing that an all-powerful being was one of love. I would say at that time I was very progressive in Christianity if I was searching ...

  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...

  I was taught to never lie. Never exaggerate, never utter a falsehood, never "bear false witness." I, like many raised in the strict world of fundamentalism, feared telling anything but the truth. Unless it was a means to avoid punishment, I was that person who would stand by what I perceived as truth. And yet, looking back I found that wasn't always the case. There were many lies I told during my time entrenched in Christian Fundamentalism and often those lies were lies I told to my very self.  These lies had extreme power over me. Power over my actions, my view of the greater world and the isolated one that was my only life. Many of these lies were lies I'd utter for only my ears to hear as I pondered my current circumstances in that environment and how I was unhappy and feeling helpless. Often, I felt like a captive more than a Christian.  These were the lies I told myself in fundamentalism... I'm all alone. I'm the problem. I have to stay. Every church is...

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...

My conversion process isn't something I look back on with sentimental nostalgia, in fact, I really don't like that memory. At seven years old, I found myself terrified, going face to face with an angry God and I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that if I didn't accept Him as my personal Savior, I'd burn eternally in a literal hell. This being the case, I confessed all the sins of just a child, most importantly the sin of being born a sinner, and became a Christian. I repented fully, accepted the gift of salvation and shortly later was baptized. I did all of this, believing wholeheartedly and entirely convinced in the teachings I learned from babyhood. I knew I was a wretched sinner, deserved hell, but the remedy to my condition was Jesus' sacrifice on the cross. At just seven years old, the problem was solved. The first time I was called to share the good news of my conversion was that very night it was made known. In front of the entire congregation, I was cal...

When you grow up in the world I grew up in, feeling emotions, let alone negative emotions, was a tricky process. Concentrating solely on the positive was something that was deeply engrained into us from the beginning. Things like feeling discontent were considered sin and needed to be repentented of as such. That being the case, common was the ability to stop negative emotions in their tracks, forcing ourselves as Saints to think on "things from above." I strongly remember the scripture verse about "laying up treasure in heaven" as a way to say that dwelling on earthly problems was wrong and should be avoided. Sometimes, too, was the teachings that this also applied to mental health struggles such as anxiety and depression, suggesting that they in fact did not exsist and were a spiritual falling away. Of the many teachings in the Independent Fundamental Baptist world, the teaching of bitterness was one that I and other survivors of the movement have found, for...