When mom arrived at the hotel, she was reserved but not angry. Matter of fact. She didn’t overwhelm me with any strong emotion. She hugged me but didn’t fuss over me too much. Most important was she wasn’t angry or accusatory at all. I cried a lot, I remember that. She cried a little, but mostly was just a calm presence. She also called the Players, and the next day she flew herself, Jordan and I to Virginia to meet up with his parents. Again, something Jordan tried to spin to his advantage, while I mostly just rode alongside.
So, this one might get a little wall-of-text-y. Immediately after posting my Questions from a DAYDian post I got more questions from the same anonymous reader. And again, I think it deserves a reply, especially since I know there are plenty of Wankas out there with similar questions. Lucky for you the time change means my toddler fell asleep an hour early and I actually have a little time. If you don’t already know the back-story of Bit of Earth, Tentmoot, Project Elanor and so on, you should probably just skip this post. I’ll get to real posts about them eventually – given how many new readers I have, probably sooner than later. But this post is just a quick and dirty one. I’m just going to answer the questions as best I can and go to bed. I’m only making a post of it so nobody has to go fishing through the comments for it.
Note for new readers: If you aren’t familiar with my cult experience, don’t know what a DAYDian is, or just need to catch up, this link will take you to all the related articles.
I received a very thoughtful comment from a “former casual DAYDian,” which really deserves its own post. Mostly because when I tried to reply in a comment, it turned into a giant wall of text. Plus, this person’s questions are reasonable and I think should be properly addressed. So, as I did in Pants On Fire, I am going to blockquote the comment and reply as I go. And of course, put in some snarky pictures so we don’t get us a teal deer.
Since things have gone so far with talking about my cult experience (and I haven’t even covered a fraction of the stuff that happened,) I’m going to talk about how I actually got out. Its hard, as always, to share my embarrassing past, but the incredible, supportive response I’ve gotten, the way people have shared their personal stories and really empathized with me, well…why stop now? Because it took a very specific set of circumstances to get out, at least for me.
Believe it or not, this series started out just being about Atheism. Someone in one of the groups I belong to asked a question along the lines of “How did you become an Atheist?” As I tried to type a reply, I realized I couldn’t really explain in just a few characters. I hadn’t really thought about how much it would take to reveal. I’ve always wanted to talk about my days in the cult, but when I started writing, I hadn’t really realized how deep it would go.
Well, here we are. The Chief Inquisitor, as I called her in this post, left me a comment. And posted a link to my blog on her blog. Just describing this chain of fuckery makes me want to put my head right through my keyboard. But wait, in case you thought we were beyond passing notes in gym class: the link was forwarded to her by a “former high school friend” of mine. Which is…weird. I’m not friends with that many people from high school. I’ll admit that I’m curious, although I’m not particularly angry about it. Though whoever you are? You can say it to my face. Really. You don’t need to be a creeper.
So, here we are, at the hardest entry in this series to write. I’ve been actively stalling, which is why the blogs have been a little more sporadic. Writing about this stuff is embarrassing. As much as I love
the person I am now, I don’t really like the person I was at that phase in my life. I do think that it was something I had to go through to become the woman I am today, but that doesn’t make it easy to talk about. It made me a better wife, mother, daughter and friend because it broke me completely and I had a chance to rebuild.
All of my “spiritual journey” to this point was reasonably normal. Various flavors of Christianity, followed by exploration into Wicca and assorted other Earth-based or Eastern-influenced faith paths that were not entertaining or enlightening enough to blog about. I was not ready to accept my own non-belief; the idea that there wasn’t a God felt too empty. Without an alternative, once I’d exhausted all the “normal” options, there was no choice but to go abnormal.
Religion stopped being of much importance around the time D stopped writing to me. I started actually dating, hanging out with friends, being a normal teenager. Even getting into trouble now and then. Nothing serious, mostly just sneaking around with my friends or breaking curfew.