A Second Look

Not long ago, I left my church. I struggled with the decision for quite awhile before leaving. Several things pushed me to the final decision, but one in particular prompted an immediate move.

Since leaving, I have wavered a bit a few times. It was difficult to tell a few people I was quitting, especially since I still believed most of the fundamental doctrines of the group I was part of for so long. It’s also been difficult to talk with a few of them since then, when they asked me to come back. There are things that I miss about church, enjoyable things that have quite a pull for me. And I feel badly for dropping my obligations to certain people and activities. Some people are very hurt and sad that I’m gone, and that is hard, too.

Since leaving, I’ve been able to look at the situation from a few steps away. There were good things about that church. Friends and activities that I miss.

Last night I read something, and my reaction surprised me. It was a list of warning signs that a person might be in a potentially abusive environment. I had read the list before, and thought there were a few things that might fit my experience, but… Last night I reread the list, and was shocked.

I haven’t been thinking much about what happened there lately. I’ve needed to focus on gaining strength and healing and looking back wouldn’t have done that. Last night, reading that list, I realized how many excuses I had made for certain actions and attitudes I’d faced. Guess I just caught it at the right time. I’d read one point, and start thinking, “Yeah, they do that, but it’s just because…” and would catch myself doing it. Then I would consider what I’ve learned of grace and love since then, and realize there is simply no valid excuse for lying, vainglory, backbiting, gossip, favoritism, authoritarianism, putting others down, or cutting others off.

I knew those things happened long before I left. But they were really little things, opposed to “staying in THE truth.” Surely I could overlook the constant bragging from the pulpit. I could forgive the liars and backbiters and gossips for the harsh things they said, and I could forget the horrible rebukes of the pastor (without giving me a chance to explain) because surely he was just frustrated by something else. Maybe by being the scapegoat I was helping- I could take the rebukes, while someone else might backslide over being called those awful names and being misjudged. People who were shunned surely deserved shunning, and it must be for their good… even when it was me and I knew I’d done nothing wrong. Maybe God knew something about me that I didn’t. Maybe if I went through this one more thing, I’d finally be accepted and loved, too. And if I could finally gain the pastor’s affection, perhaps I could someday hope God would really love me, too.

Over time, I came to the realization that the Bible clearly speaks against most of these things. But still, it was “THE truth”… Only after stepping away and looking back at it, could I realize that those behaviors are never acceptable. If the pastor is a ‘man of God,’ still, by the same or better token, that makes me a ‘child of God.’ God’s love is unconditional. I’m not sure how far to take that concept yet, but I do know that God doesn’t stop loving a person when they walk out the doors of a church. We should praise Him, and not praise the pastor or any other leader more. Being in church doesn’t show our Christianity. We are not known as Christians for our attendance at a certain place or our dress or our ability to overlook negative situations, but, as Jesus said, John 13:35 By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another.

If there is no love in a church, or if there is little love there, and God is love (1 John 4:7-8) then, no matter how much shouting and dancing and running is happening, there is, by finishing the equation, not much God there. Beloved, let us love one another. (1 Jn 4:7)

Shame on You!

As stated before, I was a sensitive child.  I grew into a sensitive teen, who became a sensitive adult.  The age-old question arises, was it nature or nurture? Was it biology, or environment?  Obviously, it is impossible to decipher. Regardless of the cause, I was sensitive. That meant that I was quicker to respond to the slightest pressure, as well as being deeply affected by everything that was said to me.  I was highly conscientious, and hyper-aware of disapproval.  At an early age, I learned to read expressions. A raised eyebrow or dirty look was as potent to me as if words had been spoken over me.  Many people raised in abusive environments have this trait as adults.  It comes from a shame-based upbringing, where fear is palpable.

I’ve written past articles about how I was trained to sit on the front row in church by myself at nine months old. In the moments where I had trouble managing that, I was taken out and spanked…thus, instilling in me from an early age a sense of shame. To be sure, the entire environment of the cult is drenched in shame. It functions on shaming the subservient population so that they will give more power to the ruling class. In this case, the congregants are the subservient ones, while the pastors are the elite.

Shame was also prominent at home. Because of the nature of being a preacher’s daughter, we didn’t just go to church a couple times of week and then go about our normal lives. Church was our normal life, and every day revolved around our ‘relationship with God,’ and our ‘service to God.’  As a result, anything you did at home that was remotely ‘sinful’ received a message of shame. For example, normal developmental stages of childhood include such behaviors as lying to get out of trouble, sometimes lying because you don’t even realize it is a lie, taking things that don’t belong to you, etc.  These are behaviors related to learning the boundaries of one’s environment. Yet, reacting with anger when you were told no, or when people invaded your instinctive boundaries was also ‘sinful.’  All of these things were not only punished with a spanking, but also involved a sermon about what God thought about it.

Shame, shame, shame on you! So, not only would you get a spanking for stomping your foot and screaming, when you were two years old, but you would also be told that God was not pleased with your anger, and you would have prayer. You would be led through a prayer of repentance to help you start to understand that God was displeased with your actions as well.  When I received a spanking for anything, even fighting with my sister, there was prayer afterward, to “get right with God.”

As an adult educated about child development and human nature, as well as boundaries, I realize that many of those things were not even remotely sinful, but were my instinctive reactions to being manipulated and controlled. While on the surface this might seem to be a good way to raise kids, every little mistake became a spiritual issue. You were lost eternally if you told a lie or showed anger toward your parents. This created in me a sense that every moment I could be ‘falling into sin.’ As a human being, there seldom was a day that went by, in certain stages of childhood, where I didn’t do something that could be deemed a ‘sin’

Clinical observations: Imagine the shame and the guilt of a child who really wants to please God, but finds herself continually failing.  The anxiety and panic of somehow failing to be perfect can be overwhelming. Gradually, in such an environment, you become ashamed of your own feelings, so you try to numb them. Stuffing those feelings inside creates a low level of depression clinically termed “dysthymia.”  At the root of most anxiety is this deep sense of shame. In the case of this example, you are constantly anxious that you are displeasing to God, that you are not measuring up to your own expectations, and that you are somehow continually missing the mark. Shame is different than guilt. We all feel guilty when we do something wrong. This is a natural feeling that leads us to repentance, change, or reflection. Shame is different. Shame is there because we are a general failure in our own minds. Shame is there because we do not measure up, either to our own standards or to those of others. Shame is not just felt in a moment, concerning one action, but permeates our lives.

As I grew into a teenager, I learned to feel shame about other things in my life. (For example, as humans grow into the teen years, it is normal to have hormones and to begin to feel sexual attraction.  The bodies begin to change, and secondary sexual attributes become apparent.) For a girl raised in this cult environment, there’s a lot of shame attached to these developments. Of course, every human being knows about sexual development, and hormones. However, in the cult environment, by its very nature of listing rules and regulations, the female body becomes a shameful thing. I am not trying to be crude, but girls with natural curves may especially feel a sense of shame attached to their bodies, because the cult ‘rules’ teach females to hide their bodies ‘to avoid others lusting.’  This teaches girls that they are responsible for the thoughts, and even sins of others.  What a shame!

Over-sexualizing the human body causes a lot of shame, and even some twisted thinking. I remember a young man who was always correcting a couple of young ladies in the church. He kept coming up to them and telling them that their skirts were too tight, or that their tops were too tight. Finally, my dad addressed this with him, and told him “If they’re not dressed right I will correct it, as the pastor.” He said “It’s not your place to go around correcting women in the church.” He then found out that the young man was feeling sexually attracted to these girls, and that’s why he was finding fault with them. The problem really was not with the young ladies, but with his own natural attraction to the opposite sex.  (From the viewpoint of mental health, looking at nature and hormonal influences, even he was not at fault…he was made to feel guilty for something that was quite natural.)

I remember once, around the age of fifteen, feeling ‘convicted’ because of a beautiful dress that I had bought, and loved dearly. It looked so pretty, and it was my favorite dress. However, I became aware of a teenage boy looking at my breasts when I was wearing the dress, I felt that I was being ‘sinful’ to wear a dress that was ‘fitted.’ Granted, I was a little more ‘blessed’ than some of the other girls, just by genetics. Because of this, pretty much anything I wore was not going to hide my body, unless I wore a feed sack.

Yet, in retrospect, I was not the only girl so affected.  A friend of mine in the cult, who was extremely sensitive as well, wore loose jackets all of the time, and would never wear a dress with a bodice. Everything was always very baggy, and she looked pretty tacky on purpose. She also walked stoop shouldered to hide her figure. Her body shame was caused by not wanting to be the ’cause’ for a man to sin with lustful thoughts. She also told me, at one point, that she would never wear anything but plain cotton underwear, because anything else made her ‘have bad thoughts.’  She was a teen girl with hormones and body development given by God.  What a shame that she carried around such needless shame!

The shame in the cult never ends. You are shameful because you fail, you are shameful because you are a sexual creature, and you are a shame because the opposite sex is attracted to you. Shame on them as well! How dare they notice that you are female with curves!

Clinical observation: Now that I have studied human development, I realize that all of these things are very normal and not sinful at all. It is very normal for a young male to be attracted to a young female, even noticing her body traits. It is very normal and natural for all young people to occasionally have ‘dirty’ thoughts. These things are not shameful, but are part of the human existence that God created to drive procreation and families. Obviously, people have to learn to curb impulses, but as far as being ashamed of one’s thoughts or hormonal reactions, it is ridiculous to heap this kind of shame on people.

When I was engaged to my first husband, I was still part of this cult. He was very conservative, an ordained minister in the same cult. I remember telling him as we became engaged to “just let me know” if he had any “holiness standards” that we didn’t have, and I would change my dress or behavior to what he preached. He declared that there was nothing like that at all. A month or so later, his parents came to visit, his mother with her scarf around her neck like a turtle neck…and all of a sudden I got a phone call from him, commenting that my necklines were too low. I was frustrated, because I worked very hard to follow all of the modesty ‘rules.’

We spoke at length about this, and he described to me different dresses that I wore where he had noticed that my necklines were too low. I tried on those dresses, bending down in front of the mirror and even bending down in front of my parents to see if they could see anything. They couldn’t. I called him back, trying to figure out what in the world he was talking about. He told me that he saw too much of my neck and it made his mind wander to other areas. We were engaged to be married in two months! He was sexually attracted to me, as hopefully most engaged young men are to their fiances. There is nothing wrong with this, but he felt shame, which he then tried to project onto me, as causing him to have ‘sinful thoughts.’

After we were married, he would criticize practically everything I put on. Finally, frustrated at the guessing game, I asked him one day to just give me a place on my body where he wanted my necklines to be, and I would make sure that they were always there. He told me that my collarbones needed to be covered up, because the base of the neck was very sexual, and caused men to think about other parts that were covered.

As you can imagine, the entire marriage was drenched in shame. (In retrospect, I realize that he had also been soaked in shame growing up, and that ‘shame’ had basically become his middle name.) However, at the time, I only knew that I received constant messages of shame. If I did not want to have sexual relations with him some night, and he wanted it, then I needed to “submit to him as the Bible said.” If I asked him more than a couple of times to change a light bulb, I was a “nagging wife,” and the Bible talked about those!  I was not to disagree with him about anything, because the Bible said to submit to your husband. If he wanted one of the children spanked, even for age-appropriate behaviors, I had to spank them, regardless of my personal feelings about the matter. This not only invaded my boundaries, but caused me to go against my very own conscience. However, it was a shame to have my own thoughts, it was a shame to defy my husband, and it was especially a shame, since he was my pastor, to disagree with him.

Of course, we began raising our children in a constant shower of shame. Early on, he had the three-year-old and five-year-old in their room, giving them a message about hell fire….describing in very explicit sermon terms what hell is like, and telling them over and over “You’re going there. You’re going there. I can’t save you.” All of this happened because they lied. (Now if you know anything about child development, you know that it is very normal for three-year-old and a five-year-old to lie. A three-year-old and a five-year-old may not even be aware that they’re telling a lie, they’re just responding instinctively.) Even though I was horrified at his terrorizing the children, I could not intervene at that time, because of my own deep sense of shame. He was their pastor, he was their father, while I was merely his wife, and was supposed to be submitted to him. Even though I stood in the other room horrified, and crying for the terror my children must be feeling, I did nothing. Shame on me!

During this time, I remember specifically working on my own attitude, because of the resentment and disagreement I felt at the continual abuse and shame that was occurring in our home.  I engaged in a daily Bible study about all the verses concerning ‘submission’ and daily repentance for my inner thoughts that were anything but submissive.  I prayed for him to change, to be a good father, to be a kind husband, but I really felt so much shame regarding my lack of agreement with his behavior, and that was the main focus of my devotionals during that time.  Some very difficult things happened in our lives right after that, and we ended up abruptly moving.

He had admitted viewing pornography, years earlier, and he felt deep shame, but eventually shifted to shaming me for “not forgiving” him when I had difficulty trusting him alone with the computer.  He would be gone at weird hours of the morning and night, often leaving as I was putting the children to bed and not returning until three or four am. He would tell me that he was at the church “studying” or “preparing his radio broadcast.”  I only knew that there was no computer in our home, but in his church office instead.  I had difficulty trusting that his spirituality was so thick during those hours, because his abuse of the family daily grew worse, and his behavior with me was deeply hurtful.

Eventually, when I realized the children were in serious danger, I left. I had been deeply concerned about one of our children, who had suddenly begun to hoard things, as well as obsessively washing his hands every few minutes. Both of our older children had recently regressed to urinating and defecating in their clothing, after being fully potty trained years earlier.  I felt that my children were not going to survive the abuse unscathed, and my first responsibility was to save my children. While debating and praying about what to do, I found another twist. I discovered this ‘godly man’ involved in sexual abuse of our children. I caught him having one of them touch him sexually.  They were innocent, and I was their guardian. I made my plans to leave, and carried them out. It was a logical decision, because I realized even then that I was going to lose everything to shame.  My life as I knew it ended the moment I chose the children over a “man of god“.

It was worse than I had imagined, though, because he then contacted other conservative preachers, and asked them to contact my father.  They proposed to have a meeting, where they would command me as ministers of God to go back to my husband and submit to him. My dad refused to have me endure that treatment, since he had personally witnessed results of beatings my husband had given our children, including one time when he whipped our toddler with a belt while he was naked, (causing him 30 minutes of screaming due to the belt hitting sensitive male parts).

Though I’m thankful for my dad’s protection in that matter, shame was heaped upon me. My ex continued to preach and be promoted even more with the endorsement of ‘big-name’ preachers within the cult, even when he ended up divorced, with only supervised visitation. Meanwhile, I was reported to have been “crazy,” “ungodly,” and a “liar,” an “instrument of Satan used to try to destroy a man of God.”  I was shamed again, and it was almost more than I could bear.  There was no room in the cult for a ‘divorcee’ (which was a term said in a whisper, as if it was a bad word).  An ex-wife to a preacher was even more unheard of!  What a shame!  I was left in disgrace, trying to find my way alone, slogging through the marsh of shame.  Still, I stayed in the cult.

Note: This post is one of the most difficult I have ever written.  There will be sequels in time.  Writing about this is deeply cathartic, but also extremely intimate. Shame has affected my life permanently and there is so much more to tell about the scars it has left. Yet today I am aware of its existence.  Due to the Grace I have found in Jesus Christ, I am no longer a slave to shame.  I am a child of God.  He bears my shame, and he knows me by name.  Every day is a little brighter since I realized he is not, and never was the author of shame!

Faith, Hope, Love

There is a children’s song that goes: Have faith, hope, and charity, that’s the way to live successfully. How do I know the Bible tells me so….

I think one of the most devastating attributes of an unhealthy, legalistic church is that they weaken ones faith, take away hope and contaminate love.

Faith that begins as a result of acknowledging amazing grace, soon weakens when taught to rely on performance or adherence to arbitrary standards as a gauge of salvational standing.

Hope that begins with a belief that all things are possible is limited severely when tied to a dependence on human performance or actions seen as directly impacting ones status or relationship with God.

Finally love that begins as an all consuming feeling of caring, kindness, and a desire to give to others as you experienced the love of the almighty is corrupted by an attitude of self righteous judgement that permeates the entire movement in these legalistic, performance based, unhealthy church organizations.

I can remember a time as a new believer when nothing was seen as a negative. Lack of money or possessions just held little importance compared to the knowledge that God was real, He loved me and I had hope for eternity.

Then, as time passed, the cares of life- spouse, children, elderly parents . . . .wanting a perfect life for those I loved challenged my faith, my hope for the future, the purity of my love for all, rather than a love limited to those demonstrating a deservence of my love.

The unhealthy church engendered a skewed world view that limited my faith in amazing grace and attempted to define that faith by my own ability to believe or perform. Hope for the future was replace by fear of not measuring up to some hazy, uncertain standards.

Love was superficial and quickly withdrawn from those not in compliance with the group.

It became clear that I no longer had an uncompromised faith, hope, and charity and it was very doubtful I ever would regain these within this unhealthy church.

Leaving did not immediately bring me back to a healthy outlook and relationship with God. It is a journey. However, my faith is restored. God is almighty. He is in control. We need not fear. I have hope in a better future but echo apostle Paul in his statement that if in this life only I had hope then I would be of all men most miserable. This world seems hopeless but my hope rests in the Creator.

Since leaving the unhealthy atmosphere of self-righteous judgement, I can again see the love all around me. In many ways my faith and hope is restored by that. God is love! Unhealthy, legalistic churches distort that love into a system of rewards and punishments based on our inescapable human frailty. God’s love has no such constraints. Our love for others should be equally without constraint, loving our friends and our enemies and all those in between, loving ourselves and our neighbors because on this commandment to love rests all the law according to Jesus Christ. It does not rest on laws created by ill intentioned or even good intentioned men who would ignore God’s commandment to love and replace it with long lists of rules.

Fears

I’ve been told so many times that “perfect love casts out all fear” and that fear actually enables bad things to happen in our lives since it is the opposite of faith. But not all fear is bad. For instance, I’m afraid if I touch a hot stove I will be burned, so I refrain from touching it.

There are some fears that I have relating to my former church, as well. It is a proverbial hot stove in my life, and I’ve been burned enough to know not to touch it again. I don’t think there is anything wrong with naming my fears, nor do I think there is anything wrong with being afraid. So it is time to name a few.

I am afraid people from my former church will cyberstalk me and will find and misunderstand my posts, afraid they will twist them and try to use them against me. I’m afraid that someone will vandalize my property because I left their church. I’m afraid that people will be hurt that I left and will cut me off without ever asking why. Mostly, I’m afraid I will discover by these types of actions that my former church is filled with the bitterness, strife, anger, malice, variance, gossip, racism, and hatred that I’ve sensed in some.

Fear isn’t always a negative thing. There is a negative, immobilizing fear. But there is also a type of fear by which we learn and are motivated to change. Maybe the original Greek, Hebrew, or whatever had two or three words to define fear. I don’t know. I’m no Bible scholar. But I do know that some fear is OK. “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.” Obviously, that is a good fear, a healthy respect that motivates people to serve God. And if “perfect love casts out all fear” surely that doesn’t include a fear of the Lord. So there are at least two types of fear: immobilizing terror and the fear that promotes positive response and action.

The fear that I have is more the positive kind that motivates a person to learn and to respond. For years, I was immobilized by the negative type of fear in church. I was afraid to speak out against immorality and unethical behavior in the church. I was afraid not to worship a certain way or display a certain type of emotion, because someone might think something was wrong with me and I would be attacked. So I became a hypocrite, hiding behind the required fake smiles and amens in order to survive, when all the time the questions built in my mind. Had I been allowed to ask the questions, to grieve when bad things happened, to say amen when I agreed and remain quiet when I didn’t (without being rebuked for it) I would probably still be there.

Over time, I began to look for answers and meaning. Not being allowed to ask the questions or seek the answers in the church, I looked in the Bible. The answers I found surprised me and prompted me to action. I was still afraid, but it was a positive fear that prompted response. My response has included leaving a very negative situation.

Fear doesn’t have to be a bad thing. It doesn’t need to be negative. Some fear is healthy. Some fear is from God. After all, God himself should be feared, in a positive, respectful way. So, yes, I’m afraid. But not so afraid, or terrified, that I can’t face my fears, my concerns and my doubts, and react positively to them.

Curse of the Cult

Being raised my entire life in the controlling atmosphere of this type of religion left permanent scars on me. Sometimes, when I think about it, I feel so angry and betrayed! The cult dynamic leaves you feeling helpless and unable to make it through life on your own.

It’s so powerful because it robs you of your individuality, your independence, and your trust in your own thoughts. It takes away who you are and changes you into a clone. You lose your identity and accept the ideology that you’re going to be some great soldier for Christ, all for the greater good, etc.

In reality what you’re doing is checking your brain at the door, and becoming just another robot marching to the tune of the leader. This pastor is just a man, who has developed his own interpretation of what the Bible says, often to fit his own needs and his own desires. And yet, he himself is deceived into thinking that he’s doing the “will of God.” They have all the power, but they have been trained to think and to truly believe that this is what God wants them to do.

My personal brainwashing began when I was just a baby. I’ve written about how I was trained from a child with spankings that began before I learned to walk or talk. I was under the power of the preacher/father before I had any memory of my existence.

Growing up in this atmosphere, whether by nature or by early early training, I was extremely sensitive, eager to please, and tenderhearted. That left me wide-open to become the biggest clone of all. The model robot I became, and I was very skilled at doing everything I was asked to do. I never went through the rebellion that teenagers go through, for the most part, because I had been trained to be so sensitive to the slightest misbehavior that might throw me out of favor, “with God.”

I did it because I really wanted to please God. I did it because I was scared of what God would do to me if I didn’t measure up. I also did it because I love God. How could I love something I feared so much? I guess because I loved and feared my dad in the same way.

I was taught from early on to be sensitive to my dad’s moods and get out of his way if he seemed like he was tired and grouchy. I was trained not to talk to him if he was busy, because I would be bothering him. I was trained in so many other ways.

I loved his hugs and his cuddles, when they were given, and the rare approval that I saw in his eyes. Yet I feared him so much that I was scared to ask for anything that I wanted. I knew that I could approach him any time to tell him that I loved him or to give him a hug, but I knew that if he looked at me sternly, I was in huge trouble.

That’s the same way I looked at God. For the better part of my life, even as a grown adult, I was scared to make a move without the approval of the pastor. I was scared to think a thought that would be contrary to what was taught by the pastor. I was scared to make a choice on my own without seeking his advice. Many people, grown men and women, we’re afraid to make purchases, or move, or get a new job without consulting the pastor first to get his approval on those choices. The pastor’s approval was equated with God’s approval.

When one lives in this environment, without using their own brain, getting out can be very difficult…even scary. For the first time in your life you have no one else to blame for your mistakes. If anything goes wrong, you have to take responsibility for your choices. You’ve not had much practice making choices, so it’s a pretty sure thing that you’re going to make some wrong choices along the way. That could be terrifying, especially when people from the cult point their fingers at you and say “well you should’ve stayed in the church.. you should’ve asked pastor for advice and followed his advice.”

The thing is, we don’t learn how to make choices without making them. Our brains are like muscles. If they haven’t been exercised, they will buckle under weight. When other people were making small choices like what kind of clothes to wear for school, or whether or not they wanted to try out for the football team, we were not allowed to make those choices.

We couldn’t choose our friends, we couldn’t choose what activities we wanted to do, we couldn’t choose what music that we wanted to listen to, or what entertainment we enjoyed. We never learned to choose what clothing we wanted to wear, what hairstyle we enjoyed the most, or whether not we wanted to wear make up. We were given instructions to follow about all these personal things. We didn’t learn how to make choices.

When we finally break free from the cult and we start trying to make decisions and choices, we don’t really have any background information to use to make the wise decisions. We are in terror trying to decide and often it is difficult to make any decision at all. However not making a decision is a decision, and that’s where we get into trouble. That’s where things get difficult for us, because life gets a little harried.

I’ve had my own list of ‘bad choices’ to try to live with, once I got out on my own and could actually make these decisions for myself. However, I’m learning to make decisions. I’m learning how to balance my budget. I’m learning to make career choices, life choices, and of course wardrobe choices, hairstyle choices and even ‘how to raise my kids’ choices. Do I always make the right decisions? No, absolutely not! However, I learn more and more.

Each failure is only a step in the right direction, because I can take that information and use it for future choices.

Yes, I grew up in a cult. You talk about a dysfunctional family! It was a dysfunctional world where we were not allowed to fellowship with anyone else. I was homeschooled, and my entire life revolved around the cult.

Getting out brought such freedom! But, getting out also brought a lot of terror and fear.

Every day I still deal with the brainwashing. Every day I am filled with self-doubt. Every day I battle those little voices from the past who tell me that I’m “nothing but a worm,” that I don’t have a right to make my own decisions, that I need to lean on the words of someone else to try to understand what God wants of me. It’s the perfect recipe for codependency.

We were taught that we could not make it on our own without leaning on the church and the pastor. We were trained to not make it on our own without the direction and control of the pastor. I sometimes feel completely helpless, trapped, and very dysfunctional. However, I have to cut myself some slack when I stop and think about the years and years and years where I was not allowed to make choices, to think for myself, and where I was taught that I had to have someone else to lean on.

Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever be confident and independent from the past. I know those scars have affected me for life in many ways. However, every step I take to be more independent, and every choice that I make gets me just a little bit closer to being the individual that I really want to be.

Click to access the login or register cheese
YouTube
YouTube
Set Youtube Channel ID
x  Powerful Protection for WordPress, from Shield Security
This Site Is Protected By
ShieldPRO