I Hate Being From a Cult
It's not my idea of a good time. Growing up with less while experiencing more shame and oppression is not how anyone should live. I was lucky enough to get away from it to the extent that almost everyone I knew thought I had fairly normal suburban upbringing.
I talked about my dysfunctional story saying everyone should tell theirs while realizing people took that to mean something else. Working in a business environment, my presentation as a pretty, young smart, capable woman was everything. I struggled with that enough to write about it at the time.
Decades later, I decide to embrace my past to help others. To raise awareness. I grew up in the Move of God. My mother was drawn in when I was nine and I left at nineteen. That makes it my story. Only because I am the only one left to tell it.
Is it my mother's story? After sexual abuse, impregnation through rape and single parenthood? Is it my sister Mindy's story, the most compelling. Who suffered far more than me and was valued even less. Mindy was abused and neglected in ways that hardened social workers have rarely encountered so I cannot say here. Is it my younger sister's story being valued for being the baby in a family unable to adequately care for her despite her being the only wanted child. Or their unfortunate offspring?
I've given my life for several of them after they slipped through the cracks of a society liable enough to warrant lawsuits and contribution. None of this should have happened. If we look back at what is best for the biotic community, our ecosystem as a whole, it would not be to create so much suffering for nature and community to nurture and protect.