Due to bad camera issues, I re-shot this video! I am happier with the results this time. I am hopeful that this series brings to light in a very open-hearted way the dark history & history surrounding one of the most mainstream influential conservative churches.
Thanks for viewing!
Showing posts with label Calvary Chapel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Calvary Chapel. Show all posts
Friday, June 27, 2025
Thursday, August 3, 2023
I did it! (Not God.) #exfundie #religoustrauma
Stayed down 'til I came up
I did it, I did it, I did it
Ten toes and never changed up
I did it, I did it, I did it
Got my hands in the air right now 'cause I always wanna be here right now
I did it, I did it, I did it, I did it (Ayy), I did it, I did it, I did it
As a fundie Christian, specifically in Calvary Chapel, I was taught that there was no good in me apart from Jesus Christ, who came to save me, cleanse me white as snow with his blood shed upon the cross. Furthermore, that all that I ever did that was positive was of the work of God within me. Anything I did on my own, out of sinful indulgences of which were varied such as the gluttony craving of over or under eating indulgence, an angry thought, to the sexual sin of premarital union, were not sanctified by God. After such involvement, I needed to then confess to Jesus, get right with the Lord, in order to once again be on fire and filled with the spirit to do good works, led by, orchestrated, and fulfilled by God. Furthermore, to God alone be the glory, any fulfillment or gratitude towards me was to be humbly reflected back on to me. Added to such, weekly I was told that the world had a vitriolic hatred for Jesus himself, Jesus in me, thus regularly I digested the world's hatred of me, for no specific cause or action.
Thus, entering Christian religion with an already shaky sense of self worth, I was an easy target. With a smiling warm welcome they proclaim there is no condemnation or legalism, yet indeed there is but couched in the manipulation of wording and conditional love. Leaving the church, I was more a shell of a soul since entering, with little to no regard for anything that I could do or achieve in the world. Even after leaving and slowly attempting to make my way through the world, I still tried to maintain a connection to a higher power through the main organized religion of the USA, hoping to look past the toxic to find the good once more. In marriage and without, I struggled always on the brink of poverty and felt an almost inward duty to maintain that suffering with gratitude for what Jesus will work through me. Anything I did to survive in this early shaky years of deconstruction, from finding financial assistance to food assistance, was done with the reasoning that God provided, no effort of my own was inwardly celebrated.
A few years later, separated, then divorced from my abusive husband, deconstruction fully in process, I still felt unworthy of successful thriving and such was trapped in the continuous struggle of survival and poverty mindset. My life was in a constant state of imbalance and lack mindset. With every project I completed in financial lack and without a budget of any sort, I never stopped to praise myself and fully receive such without a caveat. Never did I take the time to rest and fully appreciate what had been done. Until now.
I planned each charted course
Each careful step along the byway
And more, much more than this
I did it my way
Frank Sinatra, My Way, With Lyrics
In 2019, I experienced what was the beginning of the cleanse. At my most extreme suffering of lack while clinging to a one day vision of prosperity, those relations in my life that I once viewed with a sense of duty and with hopes of good, one by one began to exit out of my life. Whether from a wellspring of strength within myself yet unknown I placed a boundary or from choices of their own, I found myself suddenly without what I once felt was lasting. Upon entering the great Covid lockdown of 2020, I found the opportunity to be still, at last, time to process, to heal, to reset. Actively, I made the decision to continue working and reach my financial goals despite the difficulties of the world shutting down. Through this as well the daily determination to heal, I began to realize with pride all that I had accomplished in years previous instilling in me a new desire of continuance. Slowly, I began to discover the beauty of creating art for art's sake, for the healing of the soul, and thus the pathway of truly thriving was open to me. Through the steadfast work and focus, I began to climb out of poverty to lower middle class, worked to reduce my debt, raise my credit score, and continuously reach my short and long term intentions. Furthermore, without the toxic element of a not healthy relation, I was made aware of the positive forces of love about me, a steadfast loyalty of a long-held friend to those only newly arrived, I could finally recognize authentic love for me. Their love coming from without helped me find the belief that I was worthy of love from others and, most importantly, from myself.
Today, I no longer view myself through the lens of lack, the Christian context of an evil heart I relinquish, and now fully I recognize my worth, my ability to achieve, accomplish, and make happen step by step. Not God, but myself realized.
I did it! Not God.
Thursday, July 6, 2023
Purity Culture Survivor to Life Model Thriver #exvangelical #exfundie #purityculture #artmodel
First, I find it important to express that the society of the United States has long been one governed by a patriarchal and even a puritanical worldview, stemming from the country's origins and history. It is a battle continuously fought against this day by feminist and allies alike. However, this underlying theme has influenced one of the most popular of world religions to manifest in ways, although on the surface seem positive, hold a controlling element of demeaning toxicity. I speak that of the Fundamentalist Christian or Mainstream Christian Right's emphasis on 'purity' in all things, such as modesty in clothing and attire, guarding one's virginity towards marriage, and remaining pure in one's overall conduct so as to be 'above reproach'.
Although a long held belief by Christian Extremists, the Purity Culture truly took root and began to flourish in the 1990s. With the backdrop of the AIDs epidemic, Christian leaders and parents saw that as an opportunity to sharply condemn sex outside of marriage as a reasoning for the reality of sin's destruction. As I type, I find myself wanting to share something positive about the overall Purity Culture, in order to not to seem bias. Yet, all I can recognize is that the need to protect one's children from the horrors of disease or other outside troubles is at its core understandably noble in its own way. But, as the years went by, the AIDs epidemic became less of a threat, yet the Purity Culture and the Christian leadership ramped up its vitriolic control, in the guise of love, the effect of which left those taught with an ample supply of body and sexual fear, shame, and guilt.
And, thus was I. This is my story.
I wasn't raised Christian, or of any faith, for that matter. Although in my early years of childhood, I had some belief of 'God', like the cartoons pictured him in a long white bearded dude, in a white gown, floating around in the clouds. Later on, in high school, I spent summers pouring through books on Buddhism and most notably Wiccan and Paganism. My pathway towards Christianity was marked with an overall interest in being a seeker of 'something else' coupled with an increasing degree of unresolved pain from lifelong abuse and feelings of neglect. Constantly seeking outside for some connection, a savior to rescue whether a boyfriend or something else, I found myself falling into the organized religion of Christianity in the brand of my college's town local branch of 'Calvary Chapel'. On par with my need for outward protection and love, my not good at all college boyfriend dragged me to the church and then proudly proclaimed how he 'led me to the lord' to all we knew. I don't want to give an overall 'testimony' of the highs and lows of my journey through Calvary's form of Christianity and its effects, I have done so in previous blog entries, but I do feel it of import for this entry to state that as much as I sought outwardly for some rescuer, I pushed all authentic connection far from me out of my own fearful insecurities of letting others into an already damaged heart.
In short, I was ripe for the teachings of the 'purity culture' and its weaponized usage of the teachings of Jesus. And, thus it did. When I became a Christian at age 22, give or take, I had already committed the act of premarital sex a few times, rather, I was not a virgin. Indeed, the not good at all college boyfriend and I continued to have a sex during the time while he professed outward purity to his Christian friends, in addition to his rampant alcohol and drug abuse, inability to hold a job, manipulation, emotional abuse and control, etc, etc, etc. Furthermore, my dress was that of what was popular in society at the time for young ladies my age, not over all sexual or immodest, but short shirts, shorts, skirts that showed just the slightest bit of skin or even cleavage and was hitherto seen as scandalous. I must add, that since the development of puberty my body has always been that of 'Barbie-Doll like', large breasts, no waist, nothing else. Increasingly, I was taught that my body was a trap for men and boys, that I had to be responsible for their weakness, and that they could not control themselves.
A few years into this, I attended a Purity Conference with a high/middle school youth group of which I was a counselor. At one point, the boys were ushered off to another room while the girls and women were lectured by a twentysomething junior pastor about why they should dress modestly, comparing our cleavage to a boy's loose pants signifiying how his butt crack seemingly would be as distracting as our revealing shirts. We all laughed together as much as I cringe today. Later, back together, we all bowed in prayer, asking God for help to remain pure for ourselves but mostly for others. As the years tumbled forth and I became deeper in my mental health woes, my body felt like a weapon against my battle to remain pure, I at fault for every time a man 'stumbled' into sexual sin or lust. As I progressed I developed body dysmorphia and anorexia, I began dieting and exercising excessively with the attempt to stem off the pain and reduce my body to a size more like a child then a sexual object, for my protection as well as the men of whom I had become a Jezebel.
Added to that, I continuously found myself engaging in relationships with men that were controlling, thus enter my husband, he of the worst of abusive past relationships. Breaking up with him, kicking him out of my life, was the first brick to crumble away from those that sought to minimize and control. During my marriage and then increasingly after, I began my long held dream of 'nude modeling'. It was a dare at first, could I do it?
In the early days of modeling, I faced a bit of a backlash, not just from the former Fundie world I had newly emerged, but from society at large. Nudity and posing nude in our society at large is likened to 'sex-work', although being an art model is so far removed from anything related to sex that they are all barely in the same category. The reality that a 'nude' art model whether for fine art or photography is seen as sexual or even scandalous is a mark against this country. With the Hollywood enforced ideal 'beauty', shame is felt for those who don't measure up, whether realized outward or felt inward, and thus the inability to feel comfortable in one's skin, let alone nude in front of an artist and random assortment of strangers in an art class. (I ask you, how do you think the women in the paintings you love to view at a museum even got there, did they just come out of the painter's imagination?)
Thus, in the early days of my modeling career alongside my deconstructing from fundamentalist Christianity and the effects of such, I doubled down against those who scandalized and sexualized art modeling. Buying clothing that were too revealing or sexual, for no other reason, than both that I liked it and that it could be possibly used for this career, the latter having no use for such attire. Yet, as I continued to work, I began to find joy in hearing how the art is crafted, see the similarity of a fine artist preparation and that of an actor or writer, and along the way I built some special connections and friendships between the students and the teachers.
Re-entering therapy during the time of quarantine, I began taking the space to heal, to prioritize, and found myself diving deep into my own art therapy journey. Purchasing all sorts of paints, crafts, brushes, markers, crayons, colored pencils, a sketch book, and canvases, I began playing around with art for my own self. Additionally, the modeling work began to flourish as my loyalty to the job had paid off in my relationship with the teachers. Exercising and eating right became not about striving towards some unattainable perfection but more about being able to have stamina and longtivity in holding positions, as well as a myriad of other health benefits. In class, I began to listen intently to the ways art was taught and think about how I could apply it in my own learning. I started thinking about past models in history, who where they, and why weren't there any art history classes about models. This led to a web search wherein a plethora of art models from the 1800s onward came flooding into my life, followed by reading book after book about them and their lives.
Through all of this, I have realized that in and of itself nudity is not scandalous or sexual and that art is necessary for healing and connection for us all. My desire to try out 'nude modeling' led me into the career I was meant to occupy, which led to my deepest of healing from the damages of toxic purity culture and society's implied beauty rules to feeling healthy and secure, positive about who I am within and without.
Friday, June 16, 2023
For A Friend Becoming #Fundie
I have shared often through this blog as well on other facets of social media and in my personal life about my past experience involved with what I believe to be a fundamentalist church (cult-lite), Calvary Chapel, how and why I left, and the ways I found myself deconstructing from the effects of spiritual abuse and manipulation. When I left in 2010, (See: https://artistthriving.blogspot.com/2016/08/on-day-i-left-calvary-chapel.html), I had a lot of pain and anger to sift through, waylaid by my falling headfirst into another disastrous toxic relationship with my now ex-husband, followed by years of toxic friendships to disentangle, but within all of that timeframe, after 6 years of being 'out and away' from the clutching control of Calvary Chapel, I felt my mind becoming fully free. No longer did I fear the condemnation if I was not attending regularly the multitude of weekly services of Calvary, studying the Bible, the word as they refer to it, based on their teachings, and maintaining an identity that confirms to their will. Even so much as my morning quiet time, devotionals as its called, if I had failed to do such, even after 6 years of leaving, if something occurred wrong, something as simple as a car break-down, would at one point derail me into fears of what I should have done to prevent.
I recall the day of an actual car breakdown, the moment I finally felt free from the clutches. It was another bad experience with the PT Cruiser, which I now unlovingly refer to as a "Piece Of Crapper", and upon returning after a dog walk and trying to start, it would not. Anger at first at the once again of a regularly repeated occurrence, then the heart sinking feeling of the prescribed fear base teachings whispering "if only you had been obedient" came rushing upwards. But, this time, at that particular moment, reason took over brought in by the love of other former fundie friends whose laughter had brought healing and the lack of not being a part of the control for then 6 years made it also possible, to fully and finally achieve grace. Looking down in the car console, I saw my friend's toy sonic screwdriver left there from a few days ago filming. Happily, I picked it up and gleefully sat playing with it while waiting for the tow truck. On that moment, I was fully and finally free from the fundamentalist toxic control of Calvary Chapel.
As the days and years progressed, there were other avenues and connections of abuse to disentangle and heal, but my religious abuse was relieved. No longer did I feel the anger, the heart-break, the need to rescue those still involved. Instead, I felt the warmth of gratitude for their season in my life and the overall experience, both positive and negative, it taught me in my soul's evolution. No longer do I feel the need to comment to correct or am triggered by something they post that no longer aligns with my socio-political or spiritual beliefs. If I feel the need to address something, I reach out to them privately. I no longer feel the need to 'save the saved from being saved'.
In my spirituality now, as born-again wiccan (I lightly practiced such in high school and college) and agnostic, I no longer feel this pressing need to convert anyone to any ways of my personal thought or belief (unless it pertains to Night Court being the best TV show ever, obviously I am compelled to do that).
All that to say, recently a sweet friend started posting about her conversion experience to Christianity. In her early twenties, this dear friend found her way into the confines of a local Calvary Chapel in recent years, seems to become heavily to lightly to then heavily involved, seemingly based around personal life troubles and adjustments. Her story and connection to Calvary Chapel is all too familiar to mine. Like her, I discovered Calvary Chapel's brand of Christianity in my early twenties when a boyfriend dragged me to church, the same boyfriend who was emotionally abusive and controlling, during the early days of my mental illness breakdown. Similarly, my friend has shared with me and others her struggles with a very toxic and abusive familial upbringing. I relate hard to this and can fully understand how on the surface, of which I, too, experienced in the early days of my Calvary life, seem in direct opposition to that of the abusive.
But, that which will eventually become an abuser does not first come out as abusive, rather, there are tactics that are taken to instigate and ensnare, the first being that of 'love-bombing'. What seemingly feels as authentic friendship and positive attention, and sometimes is, takes on a sinister meaning when the reasoning behind is to eventually control. Now, I must admit that there were for me connections within Calvary that were positive, and most likely for my friend, however, there was and is an element that the purposes for overwhelming positive attention falls into a area increasingly more toxic. Coming from a shaky place of instability of emotion, trauma in early life and mental illness, makes one more susceptible to anything that appears, at least, on the surface to be an antithesis of that.
All this to say, I cannot openly and directly share this with my friend or anyone else involved with Calvary or another high control religious organization, nor do I desire to spend my time trying to convince, for it will fall on deaf ears and be meant with an offense. Furthermore, I hold no anger towards belief in any form of spirituality. Rather, everyone has their path to lead in life, their journey to take, for the reasons based on the circumstances and lessons to be learned. Furthermore, in the early stages of the love-bombing within any toxic relationship, the abused will not have the ability to see the flaws, the cracks, the disturbances that will eventually lead to despair.
But, for my friend as well as others involved, I can continue to be present when needed as a friend, to offer a listening ear sans judgment, advice if wanted. I can show that authenticity of love and friendship does exist outside of the confines of the church. And, I can make myself available when and if this person needs to make the traumatic decision to break away, as I did, and hold space as they navigate the painful process of deconstruction.
Tuesday, July 26, 2022
So, who wants to kill some babies?
The answer: No one.
That was a mind blowing reality that was brought to me early in the relationship I am now, when back in about 2014, my partner and I were discussing the then active Roe V. Wade, the discussion and controversy that surrounds it. As we were chatting, he stated, "Well, no one WANTS an abortion!"
My jaw dropped, my brain exploded. Wait, really? (It was very close to the moment I was talking to a guy at a bar one night, early days of my deconstruction, and mentioned the name of the church I attended. "Calvary Chapel, ever heard of it?" I asked. He shook his head no. Man, I wish I was him, I thought.)
Back to the abortion and no one wanting one, really?!? My mind was blown because those of us trapped in the mind control element of fundamentalism were taught a variety of such: that the world is completely wicked, no one loves God, all do want they want lewdly and without care for another, just sinning all day every day the whole live long day, and that, in fact, the world HATES Jesus and Jesus in you. So, basically anything that you stand for in opposition, their teachings about what Jesus stood for (in their heads, not necessarily the reality of what Jesus stood for), is contrary to the world. Armed with that in mind, it was believed that those who were Pro-Choice were not only pro-abortion but also anti-Jesus and Christian haters.
So, yeah, that mindset is what you deal with when you come up against someone who opposes Roe V. Wade and other court cases of its like. Due to the heavy influence of their church leadership and higher-ups, they are coming forth with an emotional insecure mindset not allowing them to think clearly or be able to communicate reasonably. Right, I don't think that's accidental on the part of the fundie church leadership or lawmakers, no indeed I don't. In that regard, I don't think its accidental that the lawmakers of the progressive left, so called, are using emotional rhetoric to steer up their constitutents and followers. Emotional upset is a viable tool but is a weapon used both on all sides of a situation. It can be used to enact change but also can become a stumbling block that builds walls between and interferes with forward movement. On both sides, mind you, both sides.
So, what if any is the reason for having legal and safe abortions? My friends, I tell you, it's about choice and autonomy over one's own body. The philosophic undertones of the Roe V. Wade and Pro-Life/Pro-Choice debate will never be truly resolved. Does life begin at conception or does it not? But, the import of having laws on the books such as Roe V. Wade allows women, those with uteruses, and girls the freedom to decide for themselves what they need and want to do with their body no matter the situation.
In June of 1969, then twenty one year old Norma McCorvey discovered that she was pregnant with her third child. Earlier that year, a woman named Sarah Weddington recruited lawyer, Linda Coffee, to assist her with abortion litigation. Their first plantiffs were a married couple in which the woman had child bearing difficulties and thus wanted the right to terminate the pregnancy. However, the fact that the woman was not pregnant at the time was of concern, Weddington thought it would be best to find a pregnant woman. Thus, they were connected with Norma McCorvey. As stated by McCorvey in 2003, her whiteness and low income status were beneficial in the legal fight of Weddington and Coffee. In addition, McCorvey was uncertain whether she wanted to terminate, imbibing in illegal substances and alcohol to forget her troubles, and was finally convinced by Weddington who informed her that "it's just a piece of tissue, you just missed your period."
In 1970, Coffee and Weddingtion filed "Roe V. Wade" on behalf of McCorvey using the pseudynym "Jane Roe" and "Does V. Wade" on behalf of the married couple. They were up against the defendant, Henry Wade, representing the state of Texas. On June 17, 1970, the three judges presiding over the case ruled in favor of Roe stating that the Texas law was unconstitutional in violation with the ninth amendment. However, the court declined to file an injunction against the enforcement of the law, ruled against the married couple stating that they lacked standing, and thus Roe was not allowed to obtain an abortion. In addition, Henry Wade, still continued to prosecute those who performed abortions. Some weeks previous to the resolution of the case, Norma McCorvey, Jane Roe, had given birth to a daughter which she gave up for adoption.
It was not until January 22, 1973, after a lengthy battle in the Supreme Court, the findings ruled in favor 7-2 for Roe V. Wade, holding that women have a fundamental right to choose and the Texas law was unconstitutional.
We need not resolve the difficult question of when life begins. When those trained in the respective disciplines of medicine, philosophy, and theology are unable to arrive at any consensus, the judiciary, in this point in the development of man's knowledge, is not in a position to speculate as to the answer.— Roe, 410 U.S. at 159.
On June 24, 2022, The Supreme Court overruled Roe V. Wade on the grounds that the right to abortion was not deeply rooted in Nation's history or tradition nor continued a right when the Due Process Clause was ratified in 1868. Many argued against this ruling stating that other rights, such as contraception, interracial marriage, same-sex marriage, also did not exist upon the ratification of the Due Process Clause in 1868. By this logic are these also unconstitutional? Therein, lies the threat of what the Supreme Court may be planning to roll out, as many believe now that Roe V. Wade has fallen, what will be next?
For more information on the history of Roe V. Wade: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Roe_v._Wade
Wednesday, June 29, 2022
Losing Our Religion #deconstruction #stagesofdeathanddying #kublerross
That's me in the corner
That's me in the spot-light
Losing my religion
Trying to keep up with you
And I don't know if I can do it
In my mid-twenties, during the height of my fundie experience when all was still rosy, I spent a scant amount of time as a youth counselor for my church's youth group. In that, I met with, got to know, and became close with several young teenage girls and boys as we traveled and fellowshiped together. For a short season of my life, that little group was of high import to me and one that now, after fully deconstruction, I look back with fondness at the inside jokes, cherished memories, and experiences we shared. Of recent, I have had the good fortunate to re-connect with several of them via the famous Facebook and am rather pleased to see that the majority have made the difficult but empowering decision to separate themselves and leave the fundamentalist religion of which they were forced to comply. Through the leaving, I am now seeing them define and discover their own selves apart from what was forced upon them with much celebration and encouragement on my part.
Thus, as one that will always hold in my heart that of big sisterly affection for them and because a social media post or direct message never seems to fully impart what I wish to say, I decided to write this blog sharing the journey I have taken in my deconstruction path. Now, I must clarify, that these individuals have not remained 15, 16, 17, but rather are all fully grown adults in their thirties, maybe forties, and thus I do not clearly know where exactly they are in their deconstruction and healing. However, be that as it may, I feel strongly that I must share my story to help not just my once upon a time "youth group younger siblings" but perhaps a reader who discovers this entry may find it useful for their own journeys.
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Officially and also unofficially, I left Calvary Chapel on a Sunday in 2010, as described in this entry, On The Day I Left Calvary Chapel, not ready to admit fully to myself, feeling the freedom within to have the ability to realize, that I was actually walking away. Those first early years stumbling away were fraught with their own struggles, mostly due to an abusive, undiagnosed schizophrenic (most likely) husband, who I finally got the wherewithall to kick out in 2013. After that, I was finally able to start the process of deconstructing, not just from Calvary, but from the myriad of abusers that had bull-dozed their way into my life and taken control. For whatever reason, throughout 2013 and 2014, it was then and only then, that I was finally able to find people online sharing their stories of leaving Calvary Chapel and the abuse from such they had experienced. My search led me to a website titled, "Calvary Chapel Abuse Recovery" where I poured through stories upon stories of those sharing their truths about what they had experienced, most seemed worse than I had experienced, tales of child abuse, sexual assault, and more. With tears streaming down my face, I felt both vindicated but also guilty. Yes, I had been a victim of Calvary Chapel, but, at least what I could see at the time, I had not experienced anything of such paramount. This caused me to lessen my degree of suffering and not want to share my story, my voice, at first. Through this website, I was led to the podcast, Drunk Ex-Pastors, (hosted by two former pastors of Calvary Chapel), and through that was able to connect with others whose experiences were less drastic and similar to mine. Finding these like-minded kindred spirits helped me to finally share my truth and find healing in my journey.
As I traveled through this journey, something I found on the Calvary Chapel Abuse Recovery website stuck with me, that of the stages of death and dying put forth by Elizabeth Kubler-Ross, something I had been exposed to during college. But, as I looked through it with eyes of a struggling, deconstructing lonely ex-Calvary Chapelite, I found new power to the truths therein. Physical death is not merely the only thing pertinent in Kubler-Ross's stages, but also the death of other such losses, such as belief, relationship, or career. Before I set forth, I want to express that the process of these stages does not fall in a linear fashion during healing, but rather the road through is one full of ups and downs, backwards and forwards.
Because of you
I never stray too far from the sidewalk
Because of you
I learned to play on the safe side, so I don't get hurt
Because of you
I find it hard to trust not only me, but everyone around me
Because of you
I am afraid
I lose my way
And it's not too long before you point it out
I cannot cry
Because I know that's weakness in your eyes
I'm forced to fake a smile, a laugh
Every day of my life
My heart can't possibly break
When it wasn't even whole to start with
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Denial: For my part, this phase wasn't formulating because of anything political, but rather closer to the core of my being. As I walked the walk of a Christian throughout the years of 2008-2010, there were several red flags of warning that kept waving themselves in my face try as I might to squash and ignore. As early as 2004, the church seemingly began to, ever so slowly, decree what information and knowledge sources we, as believers of the Calvary Chapel god, should ascribe to, these were either conservative based Christian media, networks, and news-based, or even more insidious, consume only that material which is written and endorsed by Calvary Chapel leadership. Furthermore, I had church members warn me of reading and watching such content as what would be the classics of literature and film. I was made to feel shame for my favorite all time film, The Wizard of Oz, for that very reason! Lastly, due to my diagnosis of Bipolar, I was finally adventuring into the world of recovery, at the time both secular and religious, and as I grew in the depth of relationship with my variety of recovery friendships, my Calvary Chapel friendships were falling flat and feeling more and more empty. This, too, I did my best to shake off, by reminding my red flag waving self how blissfully pure it had been and was, I mean, yeah, it has its ups and downs...red-flag waving self, you can just be quiet, I'm not listening. However, my red flag waving self, having an advanced education and background in critical thinking, could not be silenced and finally I allowed her to align with myself again, which led me to that fateful Sunday in 2010.
Anger: Oh, my god, yes was I angry! Angry at the years wasted in my twenties following lies when I could have been enjoying the beauties that life fully offers outward, angry at the abuse that I and others had experienced, angry because I still felt silenced, unheard, alone in my revelation. Like I shared, in those early years after departing, still trying to proclaim myself as Christian, yet feeling increasingly shame and anguish, struggling in an increasingly abusive marriage, I found no other sources online or in person that could concur with my assertion that, maybe just maybe, I had been involved with, gulp, a cult. (Technically, I wasn't, but yet I assert that the definition of cult needs to be updated in light of the reality of what the fundamentalist christianity has become, but that is a blog for another time, perhaps this entry may be sufficient: The Christian Right Needs To Die!!) The Exvangelism movement had yet to take root and my friends, Jason and Christian, had yet to begin their Drunk Ex-Pastors podcast journey. So, my anger was left unheard or explained away, I wanted so much to rescue my saved friends from being saved, for them to see the light too, and to have that sweet connection we once had shared. But alas, nothing doing, I was left alone in my heart-ache.
Bargaining: This one is a heavy load when it comes to my journey of deconstructing from fundamentalist Christianity. It contains everything from "This can't be reality, come on, let's just act like its as good as it once was" to the sufferings of one leaving and having to struggle over the guilt over not attending church, not reading their bible, not having their morning devotionals leading to worries that every bump in the road of life is based on their not being faithful in their Christian imposed duties. It's the place you find yourself when you first walk away and looking around, realizing you are all alone, well, maybe, maybe, it's not that bad, all my friends are still there, position. It's heavy, it's dark, and when also faced with the growing realization that your wedded bliss is anything but and you are quickly becoming the stereotypical battered wife, it leads to the depth of despair of the next stage.
Depression: The dark and lonely stage and for me had to be overlooked due to my more pressing reality of dealing with my often psychotic and abusive husband. It was not until I expelled him from my house and life on that fateful Oscar Sunday 2013, in a performance that should have received an academy award, that I was slowly able to start recognizing, admitting, and beginning the healing journey. It came slowly, through loving friendships(non-Christian) who came along side as I went through my divorce and supported me with laughter and a loving hand when I awoke screaming in terror, finally finding websites and a podcast that proclaimed a truth similar to mine, and others who shared similar stories shared over hours upon hours-long coffee dates. It came in quiet moments of my life, reading alternate spiritual books wherein I realized the sweetness of the Christian Holy Book, the Bible, as just that 'A spiritual text not THE', the moment when I realized it wasn't literal but figurative and actually heard a part of the mind controll break off and fall away "Crack", the moment when my PT Cruiser broke down yet again and I realized that this wasn't happening because of my sin, but merely because bad things and good things happen in life regardless of our actions or circumstances.
Acceptance: Finally, I found myself at this stage, through all the struggles of the last four, lots of laughter at the absurd craziness of the shared experiences of fundamentalism and, more so, Calvary Chapel, and the tears over realizing I am not alone. At last, as the tears fell away, a smile formed of peace. I look back now at those happy, gleaming faces of friendships of memory I shared in the golden moments of Calvary with gratitude. I hold in my heart those I called friends still a part of that worldview, even though I disagree and despise some of their understandings and practices, still, on my end, the love remains regardless of action. With that, I have peace and release them unto the journey they have been brought to this life to explore and behold.
Finally, once again, these steps weren't always linear, but were often mired in a mixture of one another, sometimes simultanously and other times overlapping, but continuing forth, healing was actualized.
As I write this, I don't want to presume to know fully what others have experienced or have suffered, specifically those I once counseled in our little youth group, those who were once pastor's kids (PKs), or youth group pastor's kids, or by parents' who just thought the whole fundie thing was swell. Even more so, I am a white, straight, cis-gender woman and cannot fully understand the suffering of one with another alternate identity. Yet, I do have empathy increasing based on my own experiences and sufferings. In that, I can say that there is hope, that whatever the path may lead, belief in the divine or not, real love and peace is found in such an increasingly abundance outside the confines of fundamentalist Christianity that the struggles of deconstructing are worthyof all the pain.
If you or someone you love has recently left a fundamentalist religious organization or is suffering in anyway, please feel free to reach out: cafegirlproductions@gmail.com or comment below.
Check out my buddies' podcast: Drunk Ex-Pastors
Do you have religious trauma disorder? https://woventraumatherapy.com/religious-trauma-quiz
Trying hard to reach out
But when I tried to speak out
Felt like no one could hear me
Wanted to belong here
But something felt so wrong here
So I prayed I could break away
I'll spread my wings and I'll learn how to fly
I'll do what it takes 'til I touch the sky
And I'll make a wish
Take a chance
Make a change
And breakaway
Out of the darkness and into the sun
But I won't forget all the ones that I love
I'll take a risk
Take a chance
Make a change
And breakaway
For more of my deconstruction journey: My Religious Trauma Story
Thursday, April 21, 2022
An Ex-Fundie On Easter Weekend
Last weekend, April 15th-April 17th, it was Easter Weekend, you know, the Christian holiday wherein they celebrate the raising from the dead of their beloved Jesus. In truth, I ain't got no beef with the J-Man, nor do I have any with his followers of any creed or following.
Because of this, last weekend went a lot more quiet and serene then years previous. Years where I professed openly my adoration of Jesus The Christ and all his teachings, where I hungrily read the bible at coffee shops, and dutifully trotted off to church (Calvary Chapel) every chance I could, hoping for some shred of friendship from that which I referred to as 'eternal family', all being blind to the fact that this lifestyle which I professed, this church which I hoped would be the answer to my aching heart, was swiftly becoming a cult. The years that tumbled after were fraught with the agony of deconstruction from such faith, as it can be called, shifting between that of anger, sadness, bargaining, betrayal, then, at last, a sense of acceptance for what was and what is, finally, appreciating the good memories and letting go of the bad, forgiving and venturing forth.
In that place, I ventured into the Easter Weekend 2022, choosing to focus on the child-like joys I enjoyed as a child, that of the fun of dying easter eggs, the wonderment of waking up on Easter Sunday to discover what treasures the Easter Bunny left behind, the delight of looking deep within my Easter basket for all the goodies, and the yummy scrumptiousness that is the Easter morning breakfast and Sunday night family dinner.
I chose that and in the peacefulness that flowed out from that joy, messages from whatever the divine may be, made their way into my heart, not enforced by the external but from an internal and eternal knowing within.
I began the weekend on Friday, April 15th, celebrating the birth of my beloved furbaby, the fabulous Leo Meister Meyer:
That weekend, I also spent some much needed time with my special friend, Ada, the american eskimo pup:
On that Friday night as well, I spent a delightful time with my "Facebook Room Party" family, painting my nails, eating dinner and sipping wine, and enjoying the chatter of catching up and loving these dear souls of who I have grown closer to during the craziness of pandemic life. Truly, throughout these last few years, I have found peace in finally choosing only to surround myself with and honor that which is uplifting and healthy in my personal connections.
The revelation of the true power of my intuition was the guiding light behind every choice made, from insisting on my worth of my right to raise my rates as an online model (okay, cam-model), from being led to the friend who would drive me to my surgery appointment, to watching a TV show I have yet to experience only to discover that the screenwriter was none other than Eva Anderson, the daughter to Harry Anderson, of whom I connect with as soul father.
In truth, these days, and perhaps all of my life mostly un-recognized, he seems to find his way into every facet, every life lesson, every evolution. In times of sadness for that which I never have or will ever, I feel him whispering, "Daddy's little girl" to strengthen and calm my broken heart.
Discovering thus about his daughter, Eva, this weekend was even more meaningful when I realized that Saturday, April 16th, was the fourth anniversary of his passing in 2018. It was, as if, in a strange way this was his gift for me, his guidance or, perhaps, my intuition guiding towards this connecting point.
In the same vein of the name, I began to read a biography I had picked up many years ago, that of the life of Evita, or Eva Peron. A woman I have always found of such interest, desiring to know the true reasoning behind her, why she was loved and adored, the nuance of her, both the good and the bad. Finally, the meaning of names began an insightful lesson of the weekend itself.
The meaning of Eva, then, is truly that of 'life, living one, and mother of life', to put it more succintly:
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Eva Peron orchestrated herself to be the mother of life and a very real 'refuge' for her beloved descamisados. Such then, the connection with Eva Anderson may be also a reminder of a refuge within. It is an interest to note that on the weekend wherein the religious look toward an eternal father, I, too, meditated and found value in the true power of what a real, loving father could have been for me and what my life could have become if I had such.
This led me finally to ponder and share the meaning both literally and spiritually of the personal identity and moniker I have chosen for myself: Why Me
Reflecting first on the name I was given at birth, "Julia" meaning "youthful one", I recognized how that shaped my sense of self to remain trapped in a personality that was pleasing to those who wanted to control and subdue me. Thus, Lia, who I always felt within, is that of a "bearer of good news, languid, relaxed, finally finding rest." In a very real sense, this sense of repose and rest were the most real in this personal 'vacay' of my own selected spiritual Easter weekend.
Then, the second part of my first name, Elizabeth, a long held deep connection that of is almost like an alternate universe identity (explained further in the above vlog), brings the meaning of 'abundance, royalty, promise, assurance, trust, comfort, and, at last, stability." My chosen middle name, Rose, long since one I find a spiritual connection to, means that of the "miraculous love at work in the world" My chosen surname, Dugal, is one of which I am still researching in many ways and will reveal when the time is right.
Thus, my name, as of now, becomes fully:
Lia Elizabeth Rose: the bearer of good news, that of abundance, promise, and stability, which is the miraculous love at work in the world.
To myself and to those who read, those I love, those I shall reach, the world may seem dark and foreboding, the evil may appear to be rising and prevailing, but from what I have discovered in my journey, love abides, guides, heals, and, finally resolves to success.
Love is you, you and meLove is knowing we can be
Friday, January 7, 2022
I was groomed. (TW: Pastoral Abuse)
I was groomed. By a pastor. Specifically, a Calvary Chapel pastor.
Once upon a time, a few mistakes ago
I was in your sights, you got me alone
You found me, you found me, you found me
I guess you didn't care, and I guess I liked that
And when I fell hard you took a step back
Without me, without me, without me
And he's long gone when he's next to me
And I realize the blame is on me
And the saddest fear comes creeping in
That you never loved me or her, or anyone, or anything, yeah
So, I set out this week to write a blog about my dealings with imposter syndrome and I shall do thus in the very near future. But, something else kept pressing hard on my heart, something which was brought into my clear focus after reading my friend, Amy Nordhues book, "Preyed Upon: Breaking Free From Therapist Abuse", which she details her account of being groomed, taken advantage of, controlled, and sexually molested by a spiritual elder and her therapist.
Personally, as I read Amy's accounts of the tactics used by her therapist, I suddenly was brought close and personal with the truth that I had been chosen by a pastor in his attempts to groom me, control me, for his own pleasure. Fortunately, I was able to release myself from under his sway in that it never went beyond the initial stages of manipulation and grooming, never became physical in any regard, but nevertheless the mind control tactics he utilized to silence and shame me have had longlasting effects. Even now, as I sit in a place fully deconstructed from the fundamentalist worldview I fell prey to, it stings to admit to myself that I was a victim of pastoral abuse, and that a huge part of my religious trauma stems from that yet unexamined or healed from fully.
Perhaps because it never went beyond the initial 'flirting' and special treatment he placed upon me, perhaps out of my own guilt from behaviors I fell into while in the midst of my early recovery, perhaps ultimately it is because I have utmost respect and love for his family, it is an issue that I have yet to fully comprehend, admit and release.
But it occured. And, I have no evidence to accuse nor do I want to, ultimately I want to move on from my life further and further into healthier relationships where I find peace, trust, and am fully valued, not used. But, there comes a time when that layer of pain needs to be peeled off, examined, understood, and healed. Many would say that I need to be able to forgive him for his behaviors, but first I need to forgive myself and in so doing come to understand how I became fodder for his ploys.
Many friends and acquaintances, even family members, that knew me during that time of life could point to my struggles with my mental health and actions of abuse that I perpetrated occured because of that as my fault alone and that this pastor was the caretaker who went above and beyond in assisting me towards health, longsuffering he seemed, while I was the abuser, he the victim of my manipulation. In all honesty, I admit my wrongdoings and as long as I live will strive to live in a way that redeems and seeks forgiveness for those I have wronged, as sure as I continue to move myself forward. As I continue in my healing journey in understanding and forgiving myself, I am fully able to release the anchors that weigh me down by past transgressions and move forward into making a more positive life for myself and those around me.
But, what I have come to realize is that all my life I have been traumatized by a variety of abusers and the more I realize this and separate myself from, the better my life becomes and the more I do not victimize or abuse others. Furthermore, the grooming and specialness this pastor poured upon started before ever I attributed signs of extreme mental illness. Rather, when he met me, he had yet to see any signs of dysfunction, even though I have experienced all of my life symptoms of bipolar mood disorder as well as have suffered life long with the effects of abuse. But, as I had been so aptly taught, I was fairly decent at masking and hiding my darknesses, until extreme stress brought the struggles to the forefront.
It is important for me to note that of the four pastors I had a friendship with of the three Calvary Chapels I once called home, only one victimized me in this regard. It is of extreme import that I impress that the manipulative tactics of this said pastor was ramped up during my early days of diagnosis, coming to my aid as prayer warrior, counselor, spiritual advisor, attempts to enable my reliance on him, through special allowances at times, as well as isolation from others, and as I derailed further into madness seemingly he looking like the victim aligning himself with others' in the church family who actually were, while still stirring my emotional pot to victimize me separately.
He did what he did to isolate me from others.
Once again, I must confess and openly admit that I was wrong in my behaviors, that at this point, I had suffered all of my life with emotional outbursts that had largely been either placated or, worse, ignored. So, it was in this time, that due to these emotional outbursts and irregularities, they were finally called to the carpet, whereas due to them I lost my teaching job, close friendships, church family, and boyfriend, as should be the consequences for toxic behavior, mine own or of another.
Yet, as I have mentioned above, my issues with anger and abuse were greatly magnetized by being the victim and abuse of another, however, that may be. It was only when marrying my husband and realizing that I was quickly heading into battered wife syndrome, then separating and divorcing him, that I began to see how far back the abuse and types of abusers had plagued me throughout my life, causing such harm within and without, nearly causing me to become incompetent to survival yet alone to truly thrive.
So, yes, he groomed me, out of his own desires. It hurts to say, I want to believe he is good at heart and has the best intentions, a loyal husband to his wife and a pious individual intent on leading others to the gospel of Jesus Christ. Perhaps part of him is such, but in the nuance of all people he is not alone in such. Furthermore, Calvary Chapel, as well as other fundamentalist churches of its ilk, do not condone mental health healing, rather any irregularity is attached to sin, being out of God's will, the attacks of satan himself, and thus all of these matters should be dealt in the confines of the church and through christian counseling. In addition, education beyond the simplest elementary training is looked down upon as satanic and a detraction from God's design for one's life. Thus, further education is discouraged and for the most part pastors, spiritual leaders, or christians in general rarely seek higher education or they are home-schooled with material that suits the purposes of their worldview. Then, a young man, at the tender age of 18, is told they are chosen by God, anointed by the most high, to lead a church of all ages, and all must submit to the authority of the senior pastor. No matter the good intentions, most men without any formal training or critical thinking skills would fall prey to abuse of power, cult of personality, or, yes, sexual misconduct. Pastors declare from the pulpit, "don't worship me, don't worship me, but worship God" to no avail. In addition, the purity culture mindset is firmly rooted upon and all are encouraged not to commit any sexual act before marriage, resulting in short term 'courtships' and then marriages to those they do not fully know or may not be fully compatible. Divorce, as well, is never an option.
In addition, one of the main teachings within Calvary Chapel christianity as well as others is that the root of evil and sin was brought about by Eve's discretion and disobedience. Thus, the woman is the cause and the stumbling block for men. So much of that is reinforced in purity conferences where young girls and women are separated from men and lectured on how we need to dress to conceal in order not to cause the men of the church to detract. A quick google or youtube search on "Calvary Chapel" and many articles and videos will emerge discussing this form of abuse of power from a variety of pastors. In this regard, Calvary Chapel is not the only victimizer, the Catholic Church has also been found at fault, as well as other mainstream christian churches, and perhaps other faiths, have perpetrated this abuse. Whenever a person is in a position of power and authority of another, there is probability that abuse can occur if the personality style and perhaps their own unhealed trauma abuse history is at play.
I reacted to this stance by diving deeper into my life-long struggle with body dysmorphia and developing anorexia nervosa. Perhaps, if I could lose my natural body features, become more child-like in frame, I would be less likely to cause a male church member to stumble. After all, I was like Eve, a female, and, furthermore, was I also a Jezebel?
So, yes, I was victimized and groomed by a Calvary Chapel pastor. His name I will not state because I have no evidence, but I will admit the denomination. This grooming and special treatment occured when he first met me, during my mental breakdown, and then the early stages of my recovery. He isolated me from the church family, which was yes, needed, due to my abusive actions, but these actions were perpetrated by his intentions. Once I was separated from them, he began to play 'serotonin games', or rather 'come alittle closer, no go away', whereas in private settings or even if we met at a cafe, he was all smiles and we had a close conversation, while other times when others were around, he would seem almost cold to me, telling me how he couldn't be my friend, I was becoming too involved with his life and needed to stop. Yet, later on he would once again, reinforce the interaction by pulling me towards him.
During a particular stressful time of my life and early recovery, after dealing with the loss of my favorite grandfather as well as breaking up with my boyfriend, and having not ever been able to feel any sort of intense 'negative' emotions all of my life, I came to the pastor who had groomed me to rely upon him solely, crying uncontrollably, he insisted that my tears were 'crocodile ploys of manipulation' (at times they were, but in this instance not), and later after heavy targetted prayers to reassure, encourage, and control, when I felt less weepy, and when walking out the door, I made a joke, he smiled sardonically, and said, "Lots of women I have ministered to have fallen in love with me'. *** Too shocked to say anything, I did not express, I was dumbfounded yet internalized that in wonders, was I in love with him? Yet, I kept coming back to the truth that I was not and after years of talking to other post fundies, of sharing this story, and deconstructing, I can attest this was a tactic of his to confuse and confound me, to get me to further need him, and once he got what he desired, if he ever did, to make it seem as if I was the Eve that had seduced.
***(Note: this pastor confided in myself and my boyfriend at the time that he had been molested by a youth counselor in junior high. In addition, when I was attending a christian based 12 step recovery program, Celebrate Recovery, this pastor had also been going through a similar accountability group with one man at his church, however, he jokingly laughed at how he had stopped halfway through, sighting "bad at his recovery". I strongly suspect it had something to do with not wanting to openly admit something that would not only lose him favor and sway over the parishner he was counseling but possibility cause him to lose his position and possibly face legal action. However, that is strongly conjecture. Furthermore, similar to that of, say, the Catholic church scandal, it is becoming increasingly widely known that many Calvary Chapels have dealt with a myriad of pastoral abuse regarding sexual mis-conduct whether with another adult or even towards a child. All too often, like the Catholic Church, the pastor is quietly moved to another part of the country or world without explanation, as a form of cover-up. The pastor that wounded me specifically had recently moved from serving first at one church, then moved to another, before moving to start his own church in another city. The three cities weren't that far apart from each other and I do not want to convict of something I know not with certainty, but upon looking at my experience as well as reading other materials of predatory behavior from religious leaders, a deeper look into the reasoning for those moves might be warranted. )
For the majority of my life, I have looked for a warm father figure to make me feel whole, whether it be through the television show, Night Court, in the person of Harry Anderson, from my favorite high school teacher, Fernando Nugent (the strongest and warmest father figure I ever have had), or even from romantic partners. Just a few years before attending this church and meeting this pastor, I had lost that favorite high school teacher and yet had not fully had grieved. Thus, I was in search of another to fill that role and being a newly minted believer I could look no further than a strong spiritual leader as this pastor, who was also seemingly a strong and deeply committed family man. That alone was what I was seeking and what I desired.
As I write this, it pains me to admit that I was not alone in his desires or attentions in this regard, that there were most likely others before me, as he seemed to admit, and most likely have been others after me. It both pains me to think that he could have gotten away with more in his attempts to groom, seduce, control but also there is some hold out on hope that whoever she or he is they could call him out and press charges. For me, I cannot do such as I have no actual proof of any misconduct, it never went that far. Even in my early stages of recovery, I was able to start breaking free from his grasp as I became increasingly aware of my own abilities discovering my own strength and was able to once again use my critical thinking skills to begin to see the flaws within Calvary Chapel, at first, being the emptiness and fakeness of the human interactions on a surface level. This caused me to walk out the door one Sunday after church, not knowing at the time that I would never return, yet once done, the Pandora's Box was open and out came all that I was seemingly condoning or making allowances for, that is what you call deconstruction, my friends, and it is not an easy process, although so very necessary and freeing.
Thus, my admitting of this pastor's abuse, seemingly mild, is one of the deepest faults to be revealed about Calvary Chapel. Yet, at this moment, it is for my own benefit and healing that I admit. In earlier years after initially leaving Calvary Chapel, I wondered why he was the first ever person I blocked on all my social media accounts, why I felt fear whenever I thought I could see him or did run into him, why I felt guilt where there was none even after I had worked through and absolved my own, but now I am realizing the reasons why and am proud of my younger self for taking those steps to break free, even though I didn't understand then.
No, I cannot call the cavalry to take down this Calvary pastor, however, I will share my story and work towards my own healing for my own good as well as the good of others who may have fallen prey to such type as pastoral or spiritual abuse, or who may be targetted in the future. By bringing light to such offense in my own past, I can help to raise awareness as a whole and begin to help others in their healing, deconstruction, and to truly, break free.
Trying hard to reach out
But when I tried to speak out
Felt like no one could hear me
Wanted to belong here
But something felt so wrong here
So I prayed (I would pray)
I could breakaway
I'll spread my wings and I'll learn how to fly
I'll do what it takes 'til I touch the sky
And I'll make a wish, take a chance, make a change
And breakaway
Out of the darkness and into the sun
But I won't forget all the ones that I love
I'll take a risk, take a chance, make a change
And breakaway
I used this article as reference when writing this blog entry: The Grooming Behavior of Pastoral Predators
If you have experienced any form of this, feel free to contact me: cafegirlproductions@gmail.com
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