• Abuse,  Patriarchy,  Religious Abuse

    I Lived Through Project 2025. I almost didn’t.

    I almost didn’t survive. Many don’t.

    Living in a Christian fundamentalist bubble was pure hell. When you’re kept isolated from the real world and under extremely high control, it’s very difficult to imagine any other way of being. It’s all you know. By happenstance, I found a way out, but I could have been one of the hundreds of my childhood peers who are still back there. And if political conservatives have their way, there will no longer be any escape. There will be no in versus out. No options. That dystopian nightmare will be the only world available.

    Christian fundamentalism almost destroyed me and even a decade after getting out, I still rarely feel truly safe. Now I know why. They’re still coming after me – after all of us. And they won’t be satisfied until they have taken over the entire nation, even the world. If that feels far-fetched, look up “Dominion Theology”. It’s a foundational aspect of most branches of Christianity.

    While in the church I wanted to die every day, but I thought that was normal. Ingrained messages starting in infancy taught me I was dirty and broken because of sin. Misogyny showed me every day I was inferior, incapable and insignificant. Religiosity tightened my restrictions further every year I grew closer to becoming a woman. The church-to-abusive-marriage pipeline pulled me closer every day toward dangerous men. I would have died; if not physically, then inside.

    Depression from my apparent worthlessness tempted me to end my life multiple times. Christian judgment, shame and self-loathing kept me from genuinely smiling or laughing for over a year. Out of pure hatred for myself I purposefully hit my head and wrote poetry about death. I could have easily died.

    Anxiety and PTSD kept my body in constant fight-or-flight, wreaking havoc on my health. My muscles atrophied, I felt weak and lightheaded every day, my body was too stressed to absorb enough energy and nutrients from my food. My blood pressure dropped dangerously low and I suffered from chronic dehydration that landed me in the hospital three times. I experienced firsthand how trauma lives in our bodies and slowly kills us. If this had continued on much longer, I likely would have developed a disabling chronic condition as so many survivors do, maybe even died.

    As a young woman exploring my desires for companionship and pleasure, I was groomed and pressured to marry so I didn’t sin and make my family look bad or cheapen my worth. I ended up married to a charismatic narcissist who pushed me to the brink of insanity with his mind games. He chipped away at my confidence, and made me do what he said. He weaponized forgiveness and compassion. He spent my money and threatened my well-being if I didn’t submit. By random chance the dominoes fell where I was able to escape before I no longer cared if I lived or died.

    As a minor, I wasn’t allowed access to sex education. I was prohibited from getting the HPV vaccine because it might “encourage me to have sex” and “remove the consequences of sin”. So later when my abusive Christian husband cheated on me and exposed me to STI’s, I contracted HPV. It wasn’t discovered until years later when I had to have an emergency surgery to remove the mutated cells. If it wasn’t discovered when it was, I could have died. I know another woman raised in the church who wasn’t so lucky. She lived to be 29.

    I wasn’t given access to women’s healthcare because if I was “following God” I shouldn’t have any conditions that needed treating. When I had a miscarriage, I was lucky I had recently left the church and lived in a blue state, or I could have died.

    Christian fundamentalism is inherently life-threatening; especially to women, people with disabilities, queer folks, and people of color, but it harms all people – both inside and outside its church walls. The impending possibility of Project 2025 is a matter not only of freedom and happiness, but also literally of life and death.

    Christian fundamentalists don’t believe in human rights for anyone who can’t fit inside their narrow roles and expectations. In fact, to them human rights as a concept doesn’t exist – only God’s blessing or God’s wrath. We have no “rights” to anything, but can only accept what God ordains. Thus a queer couple shouldn’t expect to have the right to marry – they are breaking God’s rules for families and don’t deserve God’s blessing. They should receive wrath and discipline for their sin. Lower income families shouldn’t feel entitled to the resources and money they need to thrive. After all, you reap what you sow. Women shouldn’t be eligible to vote or have a career – if they express a different opinion than their husbands or build an independent life, they are challenging the sacred design of headship and stepping outside of God’s protection. They shouldn’t think they have rights over their bodies – that’s countering a scripture that says “your body is not your own”. Breaking God’s rules leads to punishment, not blessing. And yes, Christian fundamentalists are eager to punish anyone they believe has broken their rules. That’s why they don’t care when women die as a result of abortion bans. They see it merely as cause and effect. Anyone suffering must have brought it upon themselves.

    A terrifying fact in the current climate crisis is that Christian fundamentalists don’t care about the environment. They view natural resources as theirs for the taking. They welcome the end times and look forward to the burning of the earth as a precursor to the establishment of the Kingdom of Heaven. Because Jesus is coming soon, it’s pointless to invest in “earthly things” or plan many years ahead. Besides, God will supernaturally stop the earth from being destroyed before “his perfect timing”. But the fact remains that the eventual destruction of the whole world is a pillar of their theology and they see no reason to try to stop it. Doing so is blasphemous, “worshipping creation instead of creator”. Besides, the environmental suffering hasn’t yet affected their elite Christian circles enough to give it a second thought.

    Christian fundamentalists believe it is their God-given calling and command to dominate and rule the world, transforming it into a religious theocracy where all people live in compliance. They view themselves as “God’s hands and feet” whose job it is to carry out divine justice as they see fit. This sets up a superiority complex with Christians at the top and everyone else under their thumb. Anyone who dares to challenge Christian leadership should expect to be conquered and forced into obedience. Christian fundamentalists believe they will be rewarded with riches and happiness both on earth and in heaven if they do this. And believe me, they are working hard toward that goal right now.

    The Republican Party and the Christian Nationalist movement are well aware that religious brainwashing and the fear of God produces the most loyal and passionate followers. Working hand-in-hand to climb to the top of a government and weaken a democracy, these groups know they need a lot of people on their side, and what better way than using religion? Conservative power mongers have been laying the groundwork behind the scenes for decades now by infiltrating American homes with extreme doctrines and curriculums like Bill Gothard’s Institute of Basic Life Principles, James Dobson’s Focus on the Family and Gary Ezzo’s Growing Kids God’s Way. They have a long history of influencing politics in their favor using Christianity as a distraction and disguise and are now making unprecedented headway. A few examples of current events they laid the groundwork for is the overturning Roe v Wade and “Don’t Say Gay” laws. The upcoming November 2024 election is one of the most critical steps in their grand plan.

    If religious conservatives and the GOP continue to be successful placing their proponents in crucial roles from local government all the way up to the federal level and elect a man who has openly supported attempts at overthrowing a democracy, the United States and the entire globe will be in a very dangerous place. Donald Trump is a felon and a rapist. He waves the Bible around for his political gain. He has been recorded publicly saying when he becomes president it won’t be necessary to vote anymore and he proudly promises he will replace thousands of government employees with his own picks. He incites violence toward women and people of color and he is the chosen one of the extremist Christian Nationalist movement. Trump is the kingpin for putting Project 2025 firmly in pace and his name is mentioned more than 300 times in the official document. If successful, millions of people will suffer, experience trauma and die. The “outside world” won’t exist anymore. Christian extremism will be the only reality. They’ve already told us their plans – demolish no-fault divorce, abolish IVF and contraceptives, remove a woman’s right to vote by establishing “head of family” laws, lower the age of consent for marriage, strip away the government’s ability to establish environmental protections and much more. Their plan is power and they don’t care who it hurts. This is only the beginning – we need to believe them when they tell us who they are. We must stop this.

    Vote Blue on every ticket this November. Elect Harris Walz 2024.

  • Parenting,  Patriarchy,  Poetry

    I see… They see…

    I see innocent blue eyes. They see dollar signs.

    I see a child full of wonder. They see a future cult member.

    I see a strong woman in the making. They see free labor for the taking.

    I see a toddler communicating her needs. They see a rebel committing sinful deeds.

    I see a confident little girl – the life of the party. They see a will to be broken, a threat to the patriarchy.

    I will never take my daughter to church. Why? I like who I see better.

  • Mental Health,  Religious Abuse,  Religious Trauma

    Imposter

    Me: “So often I don’t feel like a real person. It’s as if my life is just watching a movie. It’s like I’m some sort of alien or imposter trying to figure out how to fit in and play the part.”

    Therapist: “That’s common with trauma. It’s because your authentic self was squashed and not allowed to flourish and thrive.”

    How messed up is that?

    Religion allowed me no room for individuality or self-expression. Black and white thinking, always dying to self, submitting to others, looking outside of myself to know how to be or feel or act.

    In an effort to banish anything that wasn’t absolute truth, they destroyed the only thing that is absolute – the validity of our existence and the certainty of our worth. They took away everything tangible for subjective ideologies. They stole my personhood, as if stealing my innocence wasn’t enough.

    They shredded the very fabric of reality.

    One comes out the other side of that a ghost, floating in a sea of uncertainty, always glancing around frantically for something solid to hold on to.

    Mass control becomes easy when followers are desperate for a lifeboat, looking to their leader to validate their opinions, emotions, experiences, even their existence. It’s easy to manipulate people who become so unsure of themselves it’s difficult to know what they want if no one has told them. It’s easier to assimilate.

    It’s not always obvious to the outsider, but yes, this is a common experience for those coming out of religion. It just takes a lot of self-awareness and education to understand where the nervousness and uncertainty is coming from.

    Taking power is easy when your victims don’t even feel real. As someone who spent 26 years on the inside, I can tell you this is normal in those circles. It just isn’t talked about because most of us have so little sense of self we can’t piece together how our experiences have affected us. We don’t call out what we think is normal.

    These soul-thieves and spirit-crushers cannot be allowed to leech any further into society, taking what is not theirs. Enough is enough.

  • Empowered Womanhood,  Gender Trauma,  Parenting,  Patriarchy,  Religious Trauma

    Goddess Mother

    I almost didn’t become a mother.

    Why would I, when the church told me that motherhood was my duty, without which I was a shadow of a person who could never be fulfilled? Why would I choose to be a “selfless” mother when it was clear there wouldn’t be anything of myself left?

    Throughout my two and a half decades in the Evangelical church, I witnessed countless women sacrifice themselves on the altar of Christian motherhood. I observed that a mother dissolves and vanishes behind her list of chores and the people she serves and the house she maintains. As women, motherhood was nothing more than an obligatory martyrdom that came along with the bodies we were born with. It was a limiting factor in planning our futures. It was a reinforcement that our lives were not our own. It was a mask hiding whatever identity we once had. It was a reminder of our place and how we had better stay there.

    So I almost left it all behind. Why wouldn’t I?

    But I’ve always been a rebel and there remained a small part of me that hadn’t yet died. This part decided I didn’t want to let them take this choice from me. What if I wanted motherhood, deep down? I couldn’t yet tell. I hadn’t been allowed to get to know myself, let alone my desires.

    Exploring the possibility of wanting children was a terrifying leap, but I wanted to know whatever choice I made was mine, and not a reactionary pendulum swing.

    So I ran as far as I could, and when I finally looked back and felt I had come far enough, I explored motherhood on my own terms and in my own power.

    Creating a brand new life was healing – not only my child’s but also my own. Resurrection came through my strong-willed refusal to be shrunken down, caged or erased.

    I do not allow my sacred femininity to be weaponized against me any longer.

    Today, I hardly recognize the hostage they held for so long. Instead, I am in touch with my inner goddess-mother, the divine feminine. I am a life-bringer, protector and sustainer. I perform miracles with my body, creating life from scratch and nourishing it. My empathy and compassion and care for this little human has no bounds. I am powerful and kind, fierce and gentle. I am her Life Source. I dip into my well to give to my baby, but I do not destroy myself as I was taught a mother does. My wellspring overflows.

    I understand now how a god-figure is supposed to parent their beloved children, and it does not resemble Evangelicals’ god-the-father in any way.

    I have finally met face-to-face with Sophia, the God-Spirit from Proverbs, and I know why the church repeatedly tries to deny her presence in Scripture. She threatens their grip on power. Addressing God with feminine pronouns resurrects a long-dead deity and breathes life back into a god cut in half. At last, I am held by Sacred Mother – the strong arms of loving embrace I longed for my whole life.

    Those wolves-in-sheep’s-clothing tried to scare me with my own superpower but no longer. There is nothing more terrifying to those predators than an empowered mother who knows who she is. I struggled free and I have become what they fear.

  • Reflections,  Spirituality

    To Believe or Not to Believe…

    I stopped believing in God long before I stopped believing in Christianity.

    Though I didn’t possess the self-awareness at the time, I no longer believed God was good, or that God believed in me.

    It wasn’t a choice as much as a natural consequence of what I experienced, and it came to fruition some years before I fully left.

    To believe, or not to believe… honestly, it’s an easy question.

    Safety in the church had only ever been possible through extreme hypervigilance and precise showmanship.

    It had been consistently demonstrated to me that God was someone to fear, to appease, to flatter even, in hopes of being spared.

    After all, the very foundation of Christianity is built on the idea of being undeservingly saved from the wrath of God.

    For two and a half decades my prayers were carefully crafted and recrafted, fervently offered and recanted. My prayer life was ruled by the terror of having said the wrong thing, or the right thing the wrong way. Or maybe I said it too many times or not enough.

    I agonized over finding the sweet spot between praying faithfully with the persistence of the widow, and babbling on like the pagan. Pray without ceasing – I had better intercede once more. But what if I seemed desperate and cynical? What if my motives were wrong? Did I have to want something purely out of selfless altruism? Did I have to prove my request a noble cause? Or was it okay to want something just because it made me happy? What if a fleeting thought angered God and I was given the opposite of what I asked for, as a punishment?

    Spiraling into panic became a spiritual rite, a holy ritual.

    My faith mentor in college once asked me during a season of particular desperation: “Do you believe God wants to give you good things?”

    I think she meant it more as a rhetorical question, an attempt to help ground me in a place of trust.

    Praying fervently through a vulnerable housing situation with terrifying potential outcomes had worked me into quite the frenzy.

    “Do you believe God wants to give you a good things?”

    Suddenly, that’s when I knew.

    “No. I don’t believe God wants to give me good things. At least not reliably.”

    Why would he? Out of some cosmic goodwill? On a whim? Feeling particularly chummy today? Why would I believe God wants to give me good things, when I don’t have the track record to show for it? Why would God want to give me good things when his people were stingy users who made me earn my right to exist? Why would I believe God wants to give me a safe, stable and affordable housing situation where I can thrive, if I’m so sinful, bad and broken that I don’t even deserve love?

    If I’m just filthy rags, why would I deserve anything more than mere survival? Actually, why would I even deserve that? Apparently I am entitled to only death and torture in hell. Why should God give me good things while turning a deaf ear to the grieving mother whose child is dying? Why should God give me a nice place to live but ignore the pleas of families who are starving? No, I really don’t believe God wants to give me good things. I think the best I can do is hope my prayers somehow hit the magic combination, because as an evangelical that’s all I know how to do.

    My mentor seemed very surprised by my response, but thankfully gracious. She urged me to choose to trust that God wants to give good gifts to his children and to rest in that reassurance.

    But it was too late at that point. I couldn’t undo my epiphany. However, in obedience I mustered up my courage to believe anyway. Interestingly, my prayed-over housing situation ended very poorly despite my due diligence in every place I had agency, and the consequences still negatively affect me financially today – a decade later.

    I was beaten down by the adversity, but not shocked. As a faithful congregant I learned long ago I don’t deserve good things. God gives and God takes away – seemingly nonsensically – and I need to be grateful regardless. God uses extreme suffering to make us more submissive and loyal, so logically good gifts aren’t in line with that goal. “Blessings” make a lot more sense as a result of chance and privilege than divine favor, unless God is an asshole playing favorites.

    As a good Christian girl I dutifully accepted I am nothing apart from God. I’m damaged and worthless, I don’t deserve love or mercy or to live in ease. God chooses my fate based on my holiness not my happiness. This was drilled into me incessantly since infancy.

    If I don’t deserve heaven, why should I have an abundant life on earth? If I don’t deserve God’s love why would I deserve a person’s love? Why would I expect to be adored by a partner or valued as a friend? Abuse makes way more sense. Why should I expect to receive respect in the workplace? Standing up for myself seems silly in that context. If God brings hard times to make us more like him, why would I ever expect to be given joy and good things? Wouldn’t that undermine the cause? With so many millions of people suffering and dying in the world, why would I expect God to hear my prayers and not theirs? And if God did, is that something I could really feel good about?

    Oh wait, that’s right, “God works in mysterious ways” and supposedly that solves everything.

    In the 10 years that have passed since that fateful conversation with my mentor, I have been seriously abused by a partner, gone through a devastating divorce, been abandoned by the community I poured my blood, sweat and tears into, been used and then tossed aside when my volunteer labor was no longer needed. I fell in love with the most amazing person only to have him snatched away from me shortly after when he was killed in a tragic accident. I have been harassed and mistreated by the church yet again during the vulnerability of my grief, I was refused help when newly widowed because I wasn’t the “right” kind of Christian, large sums of money were stolen from me by Christians, I’ve experienced multiple serious health scares, slogged through anxiety and depression and PTSD. I was illegally retaliated against at my job, sexually harassed by another boss, betrayed by my closest friends one after another… After so much heartbreak I found a beautiful partnership with a fellow widow but we’ve had to work hard for our happiness, fought for survival in an unfair economy, lost our first child due to miscarriage… Oh, but God wants to give me good things! Great news! What’s the hold up, I wonder?!

    My husband recently pointed out to me that whenever we go hiking together, I always walk on the side of the trail, almost in the bushes or rocks or whatever obstacles are there. When he asked me about it, I just shrugged and said it was natural for me to try to get out of the way so I didn’t block the view. After we processed it together, I realized that my opinion of myself is so low I don’t even believe I deserve the physical space my body takes up. Walking on the side of the trail is just a subtle manifestation of the mindset the church has trained into me, one that seemed so normal I didn’t even notice. I’m always stepping out of the way and making myself small and quiet and compliant. I’ve been trained to always anticipate other people’s needs and be quick to meet them and make them happy. I am very unfamiliar with my own needs, let alone confident in meeting them. It’s my purpose in life to always be grateful even if my prayers are met with stubborn silence or “NO” or I receive something dreadful. My duty is to praise God and be thankful and smile even when I am worn down over and over and slowly dying inside.

    The short of it is I don’t matter.

    Oh, but have you heard? God wants to give me good things! And apparently he is all-powerful and nothing is stopping him. So I guess he is just choosing not to. Apparently this merciful God turned a blind eye when my soulmate lost his life. Apparently the Great Gift-Giver took a vacation day when a pandemic swept our world killing millions and destroying the livelihoods of millions more. Apparently the Almighty Heavenly Father felt ambivalent about whether or not my baby ever got to see the light of day or meet her father.

    So yes, while the indoctrination took a while to fully unravel, the first tug of a string was the shift to believing in God’s existence but not in his goodness.

    I realize now I stopped believing in God long before I stopped believing in Christianity, and giving up the latter was more about coming to terms with the former.

    To believe, or not to believe… Unfortunately, to me that’s an easy question.

    Can you blame me?