How Trauma & Tragedy Led To My Awakening...
I was born in a record making blizzard and although I had 6 older siblings, I was the one that was completely unplanned. Through her pregnancy, my mom had a terrible health issue and was miserable beyond imagination. I was born much later than expected and the labor was very difficult.
Because of these incredible circumstances, my mom used to tell me that I was “Her child born of distress” a loose quote of a scripture in Isaiah. Funny how that alone set the tone for my life; a lot of challenges and trauma, side by side with a deep inculcation of bible-based beliefs from the cult she was a part of.
Mom and Dad were both in the religion when I was born, my mom being the most devout. By the time I was about four, my dad had taken a job driving across the country for a living and was rarely home. This also allowed him to become inactive and “fade” from the religion.
He had never been firmly rooted in the religion as he converted for my mom after they married.
My family was always outgoing, funny, hospitable and adventurous. Many of us played musical instruments and so our house was often full of music and laughter and lots of friends. That part of my life and childhood I look back on with the fondest of memories and I miss it some days. However, the other part of our story is that we were all raised to be strictly, dedicated to the “religion” that not only does not allow holidays or birthdays to be celebrated; but teaches a heavy, doomsday rhetoric. Believing that one day, God himself will destroy all non-members (7+ billion people) and only have active, dedicated members survive and live forever on a paradise earth.
When I was only one and a half years old, we were at one of our annual summer conventions when a children’s book was released. I even have a photo of me sitting in my stroller, holding a copy. This is a good example of how indoctrinated I was; literally from birth, deep, heavy, intense teachings were constantly and repetitively drilled into my brain. Not just via an inappropriately intense “children’s” book, but there was the volume of time spent dedicated to the religion.
In my era, we had 3 meetings a week, two during weeknights, one that lasted 1 hour and the other lasted 2 hours. Then on Sunday, we had another meeting that lasted two hours. In between those times we had to prepare for those meetings as well as have in-depth personal bible study. All of that preparation and study however, was required to utilize only the publications written by the organization. You couldn’t look at or read anything religious that was not published by them.
Besides this, we had to devote as much “free time” to going door to door in the ministry, trying to convince total strangers that they should convert. This was not an activity reserved for adults...no, children were expected to go with their parents from babyhood until they were old enough to speak to people at the door themselves. For me, that meant I was knocking on doors and giving presentations and offering literature by the time I was six years old.
When you’re raised this way, you are so inundated and mentally overwhelmed, you truly have no time to even consider anything else. Remember, this was in the pre-internet era so information availability just wasn’t there. You had no real choice but to be utterly absorbed and consumed with the beliefs and teachings.
That’s why, I was baptized at the age of 11 and thanks to being homeschooled (one of the first children ever in the religion to be pulled out of school), I was able to begin regular pioneering with my mom and sister when I turned 12. This meant I was spending a minimum of 90 hours per month in door- to-door preaching. At age 13 I attended Pioneer School, a 2-week course where you spend 6 hours a day learning the “best ways” to convince others to join the religion. One thing to note is that one of our two instructors was a man who would go on to become one of the current leaders of the entire organization; well known for his intense facial mannerisms.
As a teen we would spend summers in other areas, Iowa, North Dakota, South Dakota and Illinois, preaching in areas that they termed “seldom worked” due to few members being in those regions. My entire friend base were other believers, ones that were active and exemplary. We spent little to no time with any extended family as they were “worldly” , the term used for anyone who is not a part of our religion.
By the time I was 16, I started to wonder what my life would be. I lived in the time when we were told frequently from the platform by the leaders, that the end of the world would come well before the year 2000, meaning I wouldn’t graduate high school at my scheduled time in 1995. And also never get married or have children in this system. Due to this, I never even thought about dating, I never once dreamed of having children; it was a given that women in my age group would have to wait until Paradise to have kids, so a family didn’t even cross my mind.
But I did contemplate what my place in the organization would be. As a woman, what you can reach out for is very limited as you’re not allowed to have any leadership roles. Your choices are to either continue as a regular pioneer and/or special pioneer (that was 100 hours a month but in an area where they needed more people preaching) and if you had a truly outstanding skill you could maybe go to the religious Headquarters to live and work. The other choice was to get married and support your husband so he could reach out for leadership. Since I was constantly told I wouldn’t graduate high school before the end came, I didn’t think I should long for marriage and so I didn’t.
Through my youth, despite my mom working hard to ensure we appeared as a perfect family, we were anything but. My dad was rarely around and when he was, he was not our “spiritual head”. I had an older sister who died tragically when I was only 6 years old; she had been the first of us to leave the cult and so was held as a “this is what happens when you leave the truth” example. That same year, my childhood sexual abuse began and would last for another 3 years.
Then, when I was 14, my dad was disfellowshipped for smoking. In the religion, this means that you are excommunicated from the congregation and then shunned by everyone (including family not in your house). I remember how devastating it was and the toll it took on my emotions. Not only I was sure that he was going to die at Armageddon, I was mortified to have such a stigma attached to me and my family.
There was, however, a silver lining; I became sure that if I told the truth about the person who had molested me for years, he too would have to be disfellowshipped. I pondered this for the next two years, but when my abuser became appointed to a leadership position, I finally had a breakdown and told my mother who fully believed me and went with me to the elders of course.
My abuser admitted his wrongdoing, the YEARS of extended abuse; he cried and begged forgiveness from the elder body. He was thus forgiven, simply reproved and he immediately moved to another state, another congregation. Within a couple of years he was married, had children and is currently an elder who just gave the most recent memorial talk at his congregation.
When I was 17 another tragedy came when my brother’s wife died due to complications with a pregnancy in which their full-term baby also died. My brother who was my closest friend/sibling, spiraled and ended up getting disfellowshipped.
I remember the confusion and pain; how could my dad, a man who supported his family and treated us all with kindness and love, be disfellowshipped for smoking? My brother who was tender hearted and kind made one mistake after unspeakable loss and tragedy and got disfellowshipped and YET my abuser could say sorry enough and literally start a better life with no punishment? It made me feel more worthless than the abuse itself ever had.
After that, I graduated high school (something I was told I’d never do) and went to a trade school since higher education is strongly discouraged and looked down on. I began working secularly and it was the first time in my life I was spending a lot of time with people who were not in my religion. Being young, I had a lot of curiosity and some disillusionment with the organization so I made friends, moved out on my own and started to explore what it was like to be 20-something in a city. Shortly I was disfellowshipped, but very much POMI (physically out, mentally in) the religion. Not long after I was being shunned, my mother passed away from her battle with cancer. I felt more guilt than I could describe during that time.
Eventually, I connected with an old family friend who was also disfellowshipped and also POMI; we began to hang out and within a very short time, decided to get married. I was sure that I knew him well, but not long after marrying, I realized that I didn’t know the person he truly was after all. However, we worked together and were relatively quickly reinstated to the absolute thrill of my family and some former friends. Regardless of being back in and doing everything we were supposed to – attending each meeting, studying for all of them, spending every spare second in field service, our lives behind the scenes were terrible. My husband was a full-fledged alcoholic and would be prone to angry, violent outbursts. In addition, he would not hold down a job and had inappropriate relationships with other women through the 6 years we were married.
Through it all, I worked hard at my job to support us, was a dutiful, submissive wife and truly believed that what the elders said was true – I needed to do more, be better for him to improve as a husband. Finally, it all came to a head one night when he committed one particularly violent assault and I fled in fear of my safety and life. We divorced and I “acted out” as the elders termed it, which led to another disfellowshipping and another disillusionment for me; despite what I had tried to do right, despite what my husband admitted to doing wrong, I was the one that was punished.
This time when I was disfellowshipped, I felt more chinks in my beliefs.
Then there was a rapid succession of events, my dad passed away, my brother who had stayed disfellowshipped for all those years, tried to explain to me that we were raised in a cult and I met and became friends with various people in the LGBTQ+ community and realized how awful my beliefs had been.
Around this time, I began a relationship and was treated better by a “worldly man” than anyone before him. As I began to observe all these other people outside the religion who were honest, smart, hardworking, kind, generous and unconditionally loving, I began to have doubts about the fundamental teachings I was raised with.
Then, my brother, the only family I had and my biggest champion, died suddenly of a heart attack at only 42, despite being a tall, thin, hard working guy. It was shocking and devastating. My family came together for his funeral and I realized they didn’t really know him anymore because of the shunning practice of the cult.
Just about that time, one of my sisters who was soft-shunning me, had a little excerpt from the Australian Royal Commission. It must have been something that the congregation thought made them look good because she was THRILLED to show it to me.
Wow how that backfired.
I ended up looking it up and watching it all and being horrified at what I was listening to. Slowly I began to do research (Google has my eternal thanks), found activists and related to almost every single one of them on some level.
Slowly I began to realize my brother had been right all those years ago – we had grown up in a high control group. In a cult.
And then BOOM! I was Awake!
Before I knew it, I was using those skills I’d learned through 7 years of regular pioneering and countless talks/demonstrations on stage and I was putting them to use against the organization.
All those years wasted can not be regained, but my voice can and will be louder and more honest than ever in my life. It started with a local public speech, hosting a few ex-member meet-ups and then escalated into a YouTube Channel (A Is For Apostate) and a book that is being written.
My personal duty is to un-witness, to shine a light on the darkness that is that harmful, ugly religion. My mission is to let go of all those misogynistic views that were instilled in me and recognize that I am worthy, my voice matters.
They need to be brought down, brick by harmful brick and I think I’m just the woman, (one of many) for the job.