Final Installment of My Story; A Heart Like Mine

 

 Closing the gate behind; leaving the suds in the bucket and the clothes hanging on the line.

     I thought that I would be writing the final installment of My Story; A Heart Like Mine from the singular perspective of leaving home many years ago. But I realized that in many ways I am only now finally leaving home and closing the gate behind me.

     I left home at eighteen, only returning once for a short while. I have still always been connected and rooted to home. The Saying is that you can't every go home again, perhaps that is true because none of us left to begin with. I know that I have been sorting through and untangling the negative influences of how I was raised and confronting both family and the dark secrets they've held. All of those memories and emotions are tied to home in both a literal and physical sense. And even though I will continue to sort through and heal the damage done, I will be shifting the focus away from my family. Engaging with them has been one of the things that has kept the gate open, but now I'm done.  I won't be connected to home anymore.

     The way I normally tell the story leading up to my first departure from home starts like this:

"When I was thirteen, Vaarsuvius told me they had made a mistake marrying Other Parent". 

I can remember where I was standing and that I had been reading an article about inventive teen engineers when Vaarsuvius found me and made their confession. I was not shocked, but surprised. I had known that we had a hard time as a family, that there was a lot of conflict, anger. Other Parent was controlling and often a source of tension. I wish I could go back and tell my naive younger self to put cotton balls in my ears right then and there, to ignore Vaarsuvius. Not because they were wrong but because they had no intention of finding ways to remedy the situation. Looking back I see their confession to me for what it was; a way to sever my relationship with Other Parent. They did not really want me all to themselves because they did not value me enough, but I was still an attention source and unlike Other Child I was very sympathetic and a great listener. 

     Vaarsuvius helped foster an anger and hatred of Other Parent. Now there was justification for the anger and hate out born out of frustration; Other Parent was an abuser. However I know now that Vaarsuvius was an abuser too. It wasn't really about recognizing Other Parents abuse and standing up to it, or leaving them for health and sanity. It was all about the game, and being a martyr victim was their favorite playing piece. Not only that but by shifting me away from the relationship with Other Parent Vaarsuvius accomplished something else; fixing a situation that made them feel vindictive and jealous. They saw me as competition for Other Parents attention, even if they didn't really want it. I was threatening to them and I had always been very much Other Parents little girl.  I had stayed Other Parent's little girl up until thirteen. Things had been that way even with the arrival of Other Child (the golden child). While they were inclined to treat Other Child as the golden child, there were times when they actually tried to spoil me and balance things out- even after I had been so mad at them.  Some of it was selfish on their part, they got to piss of Vaarsuvius, but at least I benefited a little. After Vaarsuvius confession I did spend a lot of time hating Other Parent and being much more aware of their abusive behaviors. Though I would also still spend time being pinged back and forth between them and Vaarsuvius based on who was in a good mood and who would support me.

     Vaarsuvius would continue to use me as a shoulder to cry on, and made me their full time therapist.I was told things that no teenager/kid should ever have to hear. I at many points begged them to leave Other Parent, but Vaarsuvius was not going to leave. I was told they were not going to leave because the golden child, Other Child needed both parents. Never mind me- I was not that important.  It was stressful, chaotic and intense living at home. There was not enough of the good and magical to wipe out the bad and stressful or even turn home into a somewhat healthy place to be. The summer I was eighteen I was coaxed out by Well meaning individual, they suggested I get a job so I had something else to think about aside from family problems. I tried to join the Armed Forces but when it did not work out I had to look for other options. I landed on a career as a Nanny at the suggestion of a friend. I found a position in another town, a few hours away form home. It was  my first real job position. I was up and gone from home in less than a week.

     Previous to my departure Vaarsuvius and Other Parent's relationship had deteriorated further. They had begun to live in different parts of the house with Vaarsuvius sleeping in the bottom bunk of Other Child's room, inflicting all the rest of their codependency on them. By the time I left they were in the middle of separation and divorce.
  Before I had left home I was still being pinged back and forth between my parents. At the time I left I was in Other Parents court, and In fact because of that Vaarsuvius was pissed. I had been communicating with them less because they had been so in-supportive of my attempts to be independent. They were pissed that I was communicating with Other Parent. They "were so hurt" by my withdrawal from them that when I moved out they wouldn't talk to me for a week.
Even after leaving I would continue to be back and forth  between my parents, primarily because them both being nincompoops meant that neither one was good company for long.

     My final separation from Other Parent was after writing them a letter confronting them about their bad behavior. We did not speak after that for a time, then I reached out when I got engaged to my now husband. What encountered was them being withholding and punitive. They said they did not feel my letter needed responding to. This and how they treated the news of my engagement was the end. They were not invited to my wedding. I messaged them once more about a family event, and heard from them only once more about coming home for a holiday- but there was never any acknowledgement of any issues and no apology. The final message I sent them was confronting them about my discovery of the other abuses, to which there has been no response.

     Vaarsuvius and I had many more trials before I found myself writing them a letter about the abuse by Other Parent. I also confronted the issues in our own relationship. I set up low contact and eventually no contact boundaries with them as I  tried to deal with everything. They had not responded well to my letters and attempts to communicate. I was met with defense after defense and empty apologies. They also would not support me about the sexual abuse by Other Parent. They tried to "support" me towards the end but it did not feel very sincere, it felt like an attempt to  hold onto me and keep things where they were at. It's always felt like a game with them, they think if they do all the right things, and say all the right words they will get a reward, and should get a reward. To them all those things they said were good and right, even though the sentiments felt completely empty. They will tell you like any Narcissist who thinks they are a victim- that they have no idea what went wrong or what they did. More than anything they don't want to be bad, and if losing a relationship means not having someone or being bad they will dig in their heels.

     The last time opening the gate; Vaarsuvius and I have been no contact for a while now. I recently opened up the lines of communication for practical reasons, getting any medical records they had to help explain an injury from childhood. There was no response.
       
      I find I am solid in my understanding of this history, and experience. Its conclusion is a very tangible scar that is left in its wake. This scar is not the first, it’s just the only one that is touchable and even visible on a CT scan.  There are way too many scars, way too much damage done. At some point the consequences catch up. Parents learn the hard and sad lesson that you cannot treat children in ways which hurt them and expect them to stay. Sometimes there is a point from which you can't return, a point where there is too much damage.

I’m done, I’m gone, wisp, poof, gone. 

I'll not ever be returning home again. 

A Year in Review

     I don't do a very good job of patting myself on the back. I also skip by moments of growth as I throw myself mercilessly down the path to self perfection. I can forget to just pause and really see my growth and accomplishments and actually feel some sense of joy about them. So this post is going to serve as a momentary pause, where I say to myself "oh my God, I actually did that!".

     I think the biggest thing about this year was that I actually feel better both mentally and psychically. Addressing the abuse and deciding I wanted to heal all those scars knocked the wind out of my sails. I became much more introverted, I felt  exhausted and I felt like I would never feel better, ever again. Each year that passed during that beginning stage of healing felt depressing because I would still feel like disengaging from the world entirely. It often seemed hopeless, that the scars were far to deep and that I would be in a permanent handicapped state. I could have choked all the people who always say things like "it will get better, blah blah blah". For one that kind of sentiment expressed to someone going through healing form abuse can feel discrediting. You want to say "but it is hopeless, and I am broken, and I may never feel 100 %". You can't just swallow hope like a happy pill. How you feel in those moments is real and valid. The healing process is difficult and feeling hopeless about it is normal. Being one with whatever feelings I had and not trying to change how I felt has actually become an antidote of sorts. Without judging whatever state I was in by comparing it with what "I was supposed to do" helped me to move through that state much faster and I came out the other side much more solid than I would have thought.
Feeling better is something that has crept up on me. I didn't immediately realize it, as it was so slow and gradual. Then one day it had been going on for a long enough period for me to see the shift and the change it made. I am finally in the place where I can honestly say it does get better, you do come out the other side of the dark tunnel.  Still I would never say this to make anyone else feel like they need to buck up and be hopeful. The dark tunnel, sorrow and strife are real, and even if there is an opening on the other side, the pain of getting there is also real. Trying to force yourself into feeling something else "because you should feel hopeful and happy" is totally counter intuitive to the process.

     The next biggest thing was for the first time this year there were things I was not sorry for. I have done a lot of worrying and guilt over the path I have taken with family and friends. I second guessed everything, I walked on eggshells trying to draw boundaries and express myself in a way that they would hear me, and not take offense. I wanted to do everything right, I didn't want to discount their feelings or not give them the opportunity to address issues I was facing as well as in the relationship.  I didn't want to do anything wrong, I wanted to be guiltless as possible in my actions because I did not want to feel that burden of failure and that if everything went wrong it was all my fault. I also strained myself trying to figure out what was the right thing to do, and did I have any right to do it? Family is everything, you have a duty to your family, blood is thicker than water and you are supposed to forgive and forget. All those things fenced me in. I thought I must be a truly hateful and evil child of parents who "just made mistakes". But of course this leaves all the burden and responsibility in the child's court and none for the parents. It was supposed to be my responsibility to forgive them, accept them as imperfect beings, and stay in that relationship no matter what they did because they were my parents. This idea holds a lot of power in our culture, not just in Christian culture. And if all your scars are invisible abuse scars you have and even harder time proving that you deserve to be free of the individuals who raised you. Even though there is Bible verses that speak to parents and how they treat their children, the belief system I grew up in largely ignored that in favor of "honor thy mother and father". Children were raised with the idea they had very little rights if any, and they must bend their will to that of their parents. This sets you up for a difficult adjustment into adulthood and almost certainly insures that even if you establish independence you will never break away from your parents being in your life.

     Despite all I tried I found at the end of the day the relationships were not working for me, and they still were not healthy. Even though family members expressed a desire to engage with me, even do therapy, at the core of things it wasn't really a change. Other child had originally supported me when I came to them about the sexual abuse by Other Parent, but as time went on they had their doubts and predominantly wished to leave the past in the past. They wanted to me to be their friend and focus on doing things that were light and fun and that our relationship be about focusing on the good. There is nothing wrong with this, and sometimes we do have those type of relationships in our lives, ones that we don't share things on a deep level but get together for a good time. However for someone closer to me, and as my Sibling maintaining that kind of relationship is hard when they are supposed to be someone who accepts all sides of you. That was the problem, it wasn't that they wanted to focus on the good and positive it was that as a person close to me they didn't want to accept or deal with the full spectrum. And at the time I did not have the energy to invest in a surface level relationship were I could not be myself. I was going through hell and to pretend I wasn't felt cruel and counter to what I really needed at the time. I was too tired to want to hide the mess from someone who was supposed to be a supportive person in my life. I had already spent a lifetime hiding the mess of the abuse to protect others feelings and to keep from rocking the family structure.

     Vaarsuvius I had told from the beginning where I was at and what I needed going forward. They continued to stay defensive and tell me they just didn't know how it was possible I had been sexually abused by Other Parent. They didn't cave into saying they believed me for a whole year + and this was by the time I was quite through with trying to engage with them. Of course no one will believe me that their motivations in wanting to maintain the relationship were grounded in co-dependency, narcissism and abuse. Also because they seem to do all the things they are supposed to, it would seem like my reason for deciding to move to a position of no contact was unreasonable. Anyone who has lived with abusers or narcissist however will know how perfectly they play games in which they come out the victor and their opponent looks like and insane person, or just simply hateful and unreasonable. You just have to gird yourself with the truth and all your good and wise instincts and shove cotton balls in your ears for the wailing and gnashing of teeth not only by them but by all those who think they have been victimized by you. I actually was going to try therapy with V, but when I disassociated the very first time and felt terror I realized that I couldn't do it and something was wrong. I learned to always look beyond "the veil" with this relationship. What they did not do or say was always as important as what they did say or do. The real truth with the narcissist abuser always lies in subtly and metaphor and likely only you will see it because you know them best. This can make cutting ties difficult because that is all you have to rely on unless you have others who can talk to who can see it for what it is and cut through the BS. Even if Vaarsuvius was less of an abuser or not at all, I also had to learn what felt like a painful lesson; and that was it it didn't matter. How I felt being in the relationship and my health were all that mattered, whether or not they were a saint or devastatingly evil. I didn't need any justification of abuse to decide that there needed to be boundaries or that I was done. I say this is a painful lesson because because having grown up in an environment in which you think you are crazy and you forced to have reasonable justification for everything it can feel like wrenching yourself in an unnatural direction, and there is a lot of fear involved in that, especially fear of being wrong and being punished.

     It has taken making boundaries in all those relationships and more to finally be in a place where I was no longer sorry. It has taken 2 years and then some, and only finally really happened for me before Christmas when I had to address a relationship that I had tried to keep. I looked back on all that was said and done and felt solid about my conclusions and decisions. I also voiced things I would normally be afraid to say in our last communication, it was honest and firm. I still am uncertain but I think this is one of those relationships that got a bit of poisoning from my family members. I was really well done with the gossip mill and this person potentially taking it all as truth without talking to me. I was also done with being stuck in a place where if I said anything it would just make me look reactive and crazy, and the gossip mill would get to live another day. I decided I was done with that and found a way to put my foot down without giving the family any more fodder at my expense. It felt wonderful to just do it and not worry about saying the perfect thing, what did I have to lose?! I did it, and instead of rolling right into guilt, worry and shame for being a horrible person, I wasn't sorry! It was a revolutionary feeling, to for once not be sorry, to for once not just simply accept my status as the scapegoat without saying something, and to not worry about feeling responsible for all their behaviors and feelings. It's the first halt in a program that has been fairly well ingrained, and it feels fantastic.

Here is to a New Year of healing, accomplishing things, and being free and not being sorry about it!

Packaged with modern flair

     They way I was raised, I understood  things as how they were supposed to be because my parents told me so. What I did not understand or know at the time was that these beliefs they had followed had a prescribed pattern. Some of the beliefs I slowly began to untangle, but others took reading blogs by other Spiritual abuse survivor's to see and understand. I think the reason is that the type of Evangelical Christian ideology my family followed was supposed to be more modern but the rigid traditional fundamentalism was hid beneath the surface. It wasn't straightforward, it was subtle. However when you look at some Evangelical's that are Quiverfull the beliefs are very straightforward and seem to be in plain view. They don't hide that they prescribe to a very traditional fundamentalist type of Evangelical Christianity. It is becoming more apparent to me that much of what I grew up with was Fundamentalist Christianity in sheep's clothing. I think this is why institutions like Focus on The Family embrace those such as the Duggar family, because at the root the beliefs are very similar. They are just dressed up, hidden and packaged with modern flair.

     Reading the blogs of other spiritual abuse survivors I was in awe. I had thought I was raised with more modern  Christian philosophies, but here were all these connections between fundamentalist christian beliefs and my own experiences. I saw that although I was raised Evangelical Christian I never understood what that meant outside of just being a Christian. It took reading Libby Anne's blog Love Joy Feminism to begin to see Evangelical Christianity from a new perspective and what exactly it is.  I think part of the reason for my lack of understanding aside from my parents forgoing a solid education on spirituality; is that in today's world of Christianity education about spirituality, discussion, research and other things that would raise young people to better understand their religion are almost non existent. Sure you are taught everything you are supposed to believe and all the bible stories and sermons on Sunday, but it is usually one dimensional and you are supposed to embrace it as truth. Even in bible studies "understanding scripture" is not really in depth or created to really ask hard questions. I have always felt that it was a surface study meant to solidify all the other teachings you were supposed to take at face value.

 I have always wondered where is the type of place that Jesus would have gone to, where he debated scripture and truths with the priests, where asking questions was encouraged and part of the faith? And most especially where is this type of place for women and girls? There are many women who are theology scholars and I am immensely thrilled at that, but education costs money and we are faced with an issue of only those with money or power are able to really educate themselves about their beliefs. That tends to lend itself to only a few controlling information in an academic bubble. In a way it is the same problem as with Christianity of the dark ages; where no one could read or write so they believed whatever the spiritual leaders told them.

     In the Evangelical Christian community I grew up in, it was like living in a cube. Except you didn't know you were in a cube because there was a virtual reality in place around you that gave you the illusion of being a somewhat free and independent modern individual. The only time you would realize that you were in the cube is if you began to question how things were or push the boundaries; only to find that you were contained by four walls. I was allowed to wear pants and be creatively fashionable. I had modern Christian music and even pop music that was deemed to be not morally bankrupt (And I somehow managed a Madonna Album). However self ownership did not go much farther than that. I was still owned by my parents, in particular by the head of the house Other Parent. Other Parent did not want me dating, or seeing boys. Vaarsuvius had gotten me I Kissed Dating Goodbye. The abuse was mixed in with the traditional Christianity, but in Other Parent's treatment of Vaarsuvius, Other Child and Myself  as a "harem" they owned was not just abuse, or sexual abuse, it was a very Christian philosophy. Certainly many Christians would say that they would never think or do that, or that they respect and honor women but at its roots that is a basic tenant of Christianity which is a patriarchal model. The illusion that women are not treated as "owned" objects is like my cube illustration. Only this time those that uphold the rules are lying to themselves about it and the benefits they receive from it.

     Despite supposedly being a thoroughly modern Christian girl, Other Parent would make jokes about marrying me off and getting a dowry from me. And if I did ever want to get married I would have to ask their permission and by all rights could be refused. They somewhat paraded me about for their friends as their object, and jokes were made by these church friends about how pretty I was getting and that Other Parent would have to watch out. One of these friends was a child molester themselves. If you think that this kind of behavior is only of that of truly evil people and not Christians then you have to go back and examine some of those basic beliefs.

     Yes Other Parent and the friend were child molesters, however their treatment of their children as objects in particular girls is ingrained in that set of beliefs. Parading me about as sexual object or good Christian parent parading about a child whom they have supreme ownership of, mind, body and soul really leaves only some distinction- the act of psychical violation. The complete ownership of another person is slavery and abuse; add biblical reasoning to sanctify it and you have spiritual abuse. This might seem like an extreme example and I know the comparison I am making is harsh. However christian parents are deemed to have supreme authority over their children in every facet. Those basic tenants are already there, and parents like Other Parent take it to another level.

    Other parents behavior was never questioned, part of this was because much of the abuse was behind closed doors but the other reason was the way our Christianity functioned. Other primary parents had an unspoken club they belonged to, one in which they respected the function of role as primary parent and authority in their individual families. Part of that respect meant never questioning each others supreme authority over their families or the decisions made. It was seriously wink, wink, nod, nod.
   
     I will never forget a day trip with another family (another abuser friend of Other Parent). This Primary Parent was engaged in a game of tag with their children and Other Child and I were about to join in, but Other Parent pulled us back to the sideline because we were part of their "unit" and not the other family so therefore we were not to engage in an activity that the other primary parent initiated. It was somehow this "respect" policy playing out over something minute. Other Parent was like "these over here are mine and those are yours, I respect your ownership". That is the only way I can describe what happened, and it sounds insane but that is exactly how it was. You could also add in the element of control and that it was not just respect but territorial. How could Other Parent herd us about and control our actions if we were running about playing tag with the other family? And while they respected the club code they didn't want their stock mixing with another "owner". Your seeing the cattle metaphors right? No they are not an exaggeration.

     Let's go back to the cube, and running into the walls. This did not just happen over things like freedom but also what to believe.  Children are to be seen, not heard and they are certainly not to question the families religious beliefs. I ran squarely into this wall when I was a teenager. I was tired of the problems with our small church and I no longer wanted to go to church. This was met with the full force of Other Parent, who was not going to have it. I was to obey and love God, respect my family and attend church as part of the family unit. Oddly Vaarsuvius in one of their moments of clarity intervened and I stayed home. Not all the time of course, and I eventually got them to let me go to another church with friends. That ended when our two churches merged. I later would still try attending another local church to escape but it was toward the end of my parent's marriage. Other Parent would have never permitted the whole family to switch churches. This control over where you could worship is a continuation of spiritual abuse as is being told what to believe, what that belief must look like, and fear as a weapon to enforce belief.

   This fear to "enforce belief" was how Vaarsuvius understood our faith. I was told I must be either hot or cold for God or he would "spit me out", I would be exiled. This terrified me as a child, how did I know I would be safe from this exile and eventual decent into hell that would await me? I didn't and in some ways I felt myself giving up, I thought I would never be good enough or believe hard enough to escape that fate. I did try even though part of me felt resigned, and I any time I felt like I was headed straight for hell I would say the "saved prayer" to myself, over and over. So many times. It never felt like it was enough, but not doing it could mean getting scorched. Even though this felt terrible I was taught that it was the only way, and the only definition of God and grace. Not being given any other options is being walled in, and living in a cube. Even though you are supposedly being give choices it is either to believe in the God defined by your parents and live in good faith while in the cube, or step outside those four walls into hell. I never understood how this was a choice? I never understood God supposedly defining these as true choices.

    The fear as enforcement tool was not just simply for whether or not I was saved (which was already really hard to define, because what really equals saved?) but in what manner I was saved. In other words baptism. I have always been shy in some regards about personal things like my faith and sharing it. So I loathed that in order to be a true Christian you would have to be willing to give testimony and worse yet get baptized in front of God and everyone. I did not want to, for me it felt like a circus of embarrassment. This made Vaarsuvius angry and frustrated. They themselves were poached by the Navigators in college. A wispy kid with no self esteem suddenly had found their path and they took to it determinedly. They felt our faith was black and white, it was absolute. They believed that there was only one way to do things and so when their child did not want to get baptized they not only felt my soul was in peril but they couldn't understand why I felt the way I did. They thought I showed a stubborn unwillingness to submit to God and obey him, by doing what he supposedly prescribed. They thought something must have been wrong with me, they didn't think I was really saved and what did it say about them that their child did not want to get baptized? A family friend finally intervened with a second opinion that baptism was optional and did not mean I would go to hell if I didn't do it. But for the longest while this was a huge battle, and Vaarsuvius took it very personally. It wasn't about my faith, it was about theirs and their interpretation of what is right.

     That interpretation was applied to child rearing philosophies. With a black and white, rigid interpretation of what it meant to be a child of God was seamlessly passed onto what it meant to be child to Christian parents. There was no gray area, it was heaven or hell, obey or disobey. I do think my parent's believed that children are born inherently bad and you have to teach them to be good, and beat out the stubborn or bad. There were plenty of books on how to do this, and while I could not be certain there was not a copy of the Pearls book To Train Up A Child I am strongly suspicious there was. And if there was not, my current understanding of Dr. James Dobson and his recommended child rearing practices means that I essentially was raised with the Pearls philosophy just dressed up a bit and made to seem legitimate by his Doctoral degree.  But there were other books equally concerning as far as healthy parenting advice goes, Cynthia Tobias and her books on strong willed children and, strong willed women.  If Vaarsuvius was not wining a parenting battle with any of the above at their disposal they could switch to an emotional manipulation and spiritual abuse tactic such as telling me that every time I was bad I was responsible for God's feelings and making him grieve over my defiant and ill willed behavior. Other Parent was less for doling out spiritual punishment because our faith had already given them supreme authority, they had no need for the guilt trips they had a horse quirt!

     One of my final encounters of running into one of those four walls was dating, and the rigid fundamentalism applied to it. I dated a Navigator missionary in training. There is not enough information out there on what the Navigators can really be like. Among its members you will hear the occasional story about leaders breaking up a dating couple because "it was not God's will they be together", or in my parents case they pushed them into getting engaged and defining the relationship so there wouldn't be anything impure. But those were just horror stories, until I experienced it firsthand.
     Now the boyfriend in question turned out to be of weak character, but at the time I had not figured that out yet. He got into the relationship with me and confessed right off the bat to having slept with a married women in the local Navigator group. I figured this was past stupidity and not that he wasn't past stupidity so I went with it. I was also underage, but the relationship was sanctioned by my parents so no big deal. We were going to get married as soon as I turned eighteen. He wanted me to be the missionary wife and I quote that "when we run out of money you can nag me to go drum up support". He was broke but Vaarsuvius said we could live in our home basement. He wanted six kids, a Saturn SUV and a wife who would ride on the back of his motor bike. I happily followed along with this, after all I was essentially raised to be a traditional christian woman.
     Then his past transgression caught up with him, and the Navigators essentially made him attend workshops to address and punish his behavior. He was also told to break up with me, and could not touch me, hand hold etc. We were simply to be as brother and sister in Christ during his punishment. This brought out the inner jerk in him, he started being rude and grumpy with me, as if all of this was my fault. It continued downhill from there. He was angry when I did not want to do an activity he was pushing me to do, he defended Other Parent's reprehensible behaviors, and finally he told me that I needed to start wearing skirts and covering myself up, Apparently I was too tempting for him. That was when the inner feminist in me had it. Goodbye Mr. Navigator Jr.

     After that began my slow but steady revolution in how I thought about my faith, dating and everything else. I would make my escape from those four cube walls when I turned eighteen and I eventually never went back. I now question they way things are supposed to be and through reading more of others experiences I can really come to terms with my own.I can see not only the abuse, but the spiritual abuse as well. This is like a light turning on for me, and I am starting to feel more free. I can also feel really angry at the beliefs I was subjected to. I feel lucky to be on the other side now, but also feel it is important to create and engage in discussion about fundamentalism and how it can slip under the radar, and that it is not just an isolated experience of Evangelical Christianity.

What little girls are made of; Speaking out

"My mama’s phone started ringin’ off the hook

I can hear her now sayin’ she ain’t gonna have it

Don’t matter how you feel, it only matters how you look

Go and fix your make up, girl, (...)

Run and hide your crazy (...)

'Cause I raised you better, gotta keep it together

Even when you fall apart

(...)

Wish I could be just a little less dramatic

Like a Kennedy when Camelot went down in flames

Leave it to me to be holdin’ the matches

When the fire trucks show up and there’s nobody else to blame"

When you grow up in an abusive home, there is a primary importance placed on keeping things behind closed doors and saving face by your abusers. You are taught this from such an early age, and in such subtle ways that you don't think about it; yet unconsciously you fear ever embarrassing your family or airing any dirty laundry. The outcome of a slip up could go from mild  consequences to much worse punishment from your abusers. 

I had a hard time with this. I was in many ways outspoken when I was younger, not enough to garner any attention to my abuse but enough to make people think I should behave better. I always got the impression they felt I was over emotional and dramatic. And as I have written before there is a system in place which determined that I should not be taken seriously. So when I acted out against some injustice it seemed I was always left holding the matches and no one else to blame.

This helped my abusers because because it looked like I was reacting to something when it looked to  others that there was nothing there. It also instilled in me that despite having very real reasons to, my doing so was a selfish dramatic display that was unnecessary. Writing this blog I can still feel like I am that angry, over dramatic little girl who should just keep things to herself because I am making an unnecessary scene and fool of myself. There is also still a very real fear of getting into trouble. Even though I am far away from my parents there is always a small part of me that still feels like they have super powers and could descend upon me in an instant to punish me for speaking out. 

This is why abuse often remains hidden and enclosed in silence. If I still have these fears as an adult can you imagine what it might be like to be a child in an abusive situation? If you speak out you are going to get in trouble, your parents might be taken away, or you are hurting your family.

The lie about hurting your family is strong one. My family in particular believes on some level that I have convinced myself in a delusional manner that I was abused and that the truth is by confronting them and drawing boundaries I am really being abusive and hurtful to them. Please see Dr. Henry Cloud & Townsend's book on Boundaries for myths about "boundaries hurting others". I think Vaarsuvius in particular has convinced themselves that I have a kind of disease that I caught and that it has nothing to do with the abusive home I grew up in or the way they parented me. I feel they think this is my disease I made up and convinced myself I have and they are just going to pat me on the head and humor me about it.  In fact I received a note in the mail that seemed to say as much (turns out you cannot block postal senders).

I flip between being terrified at breaking the silence to angry that the abuse happened. Recently it has been Vaarsuvius's actions that have compelled me to start speaking out. The more stories they spun about me for others the more I felt infuriated. I knew I couldn't convince any of the people they were telling their side to, but I didn't have to let theirs be the only side told. I could have a voice and not let them speak for me ever again. I could take away that power and stop the things they were saying from being the only isolated accounting of the abuse.

What finally really pushed me into speaking out further;  I found out I could not ask for any financial compensation for the abuse suffered. Some state laws have a statute of limitations and I could not sue. My abusers had left a substantial amount of damage in my life and yet they would be able to walk away with no consequences. I couldn't touch them. That broke me a little inside. I had always fantasized that I would have the law on my side, that I could have a dynamic team of lawyers who would seek justice for me while protecting me from the potential assault my family might launch. That's when I stopped caring as much about getting in trouble for talking about the abuse. What did I have to lose? My family has kept the truth tucked away in a vacuum of space and I wanted to change that. Silence is how abuse continues to thrive and I wanted to take away the nurturing environment. I also know that speaking out helps others speak out and allows us to dismantle the cultural taboo on the subject. Having a voice does not let my family keep me in a corner with no power and it allows me to seek justice on my terms and air all that dirty laundry they told me not to.

I plan on showing them here on out, even when I am still a little terrified, what little girls are truly made of.

My Story; A Heart Like Mine P2 (edited & updated)

    I was raised as a “modern” Evangelical Christian. But the more I read the more subtle the distinction I find between how I was raised and Fundamentalist beliefs (such as Quiverfull).
     I didn't wear long dresses/or skirts like the women and girls of the Duggar family, however I still had fashion specifications I was required to follow. I was still in many ways made to be lady like and modest, even if it was in pants. I rebelled and pushed this boundary as best I could and with dramatic flair. I even won my battles with mini skirts eventually. Probably due to my parents crumbling relationship; there was something else to distract them from my fashion rebellion. Similar to more fundamentalist beliefs I had little or no ownership over my body. What I did with it including cutting my hair was controlled or hindered by Vaarsuvius and Other Parent. I had to beg for permission to get my ears pierced when Other Parent did not want me piercing any part of my body, even for age appropriate earrings. Some of these things seem small or normal to parent child relationships; but the subtleties and the battles fought daily to be my own person were not small even if they were lumped in with what people considered "normal".

     There was nothing good or normal about how in our Evangelical patriarchal household Other Parent owned us, including our bodies. This was evidenced by their treatment of Vaarsuvius and the fact that they told them once they had made a commitment to on another that Vaarsuvius's body was now theirs and it was founded in Biblical principals. The structure we lived with supported these ideas and passed them off as normal, it hid the insidious dark underside. Body ownership also meant that I was Other Parent's object to do with as they willed; they did. I was sexually abused and I am strongly suspicious that Other Child was as well. But even at times this horrific act can be and has been defended by wielding the umbrella of the Bible. If Vaarsuvius was not sexually satisfying and upholding their spousal duty to Other Parent, child sexual abuse could be seen as a natural consequence. In some cases it has.  Please reference Christina Enevoldsen and her blog Confessions of a Child Molesters Wife.

    

      Quiverfull is based on the idea of having many children and raising them Godly to be released into the world like a quiver full of arrows to proselytize and convert others to following Christ. Modern Evangelical Christians similarly believe in raising Godly children to be a light in the world, and both sets of ideologies focus on training children to be soldiers of Christ. My family held those beliefs (close to that of Quiverfull) and this was evidenced by their association with the Christian Organization known as the Navigators. This organization focuses on recruitment, training and deployment. They have bases of operation in Colleges to seek out young people who are in the midst of identity upheaval. They preach salvation, identity and purpose. They are are also focused on our Military and have ministries on base. Ideally they recruit and then deploy missionaries across the nation and all over the world. Meet the Missionary Marines Corps. Hoorah.

     

     The only reason that my family was not large had less to do with my parents beliefs and more with circumstances. Other Parent wanted more children and liked the idea of a traditional large family. Vaarsuvius was pushed by Other Parent to follow this more traditional path, but ended up being saved from it due to Other Parents health issues. Somehow they convinced Other Parent that there physical health meant that they could not be a fully supportive parent to a large family and that Vaarsuvius could not do it alone if something happened to them.     

     The lack of extended numbers of siblings did not stop Vaarsuvius from making me responsible for Other child or throwing me into the role of a caretaker at an early age. Vaarsuvius was a member of a Christian parent preschool group, but I was too old to do any of the programs. So instead of finding someone to watch me they enlisted me to help serve all the children groups their snacks, as well as being additional help as a caretaker for the toddler class or any other class that needed help. I have been taking care of babies and children since I was seven. It didn't help that I had a natural affinity for connecting with toddlers and infants, this also meant I had to help Vaarsuvius and Other Parent during their Nursery duty at church and when they taught Sunday school to younger children. I didn't have to be in a family of nineteen and counting to be roped into being a little mother.    

      This led to the assumption that I would grow up to be a mother. I remember being around the age of ten when Vaarsuvius finally sorted through all of our baby clothes, and had Other Child and I pick out which ones we wanted to keep for our future children. We also picked things that they wanted to pass onto us, and it was neatly packed away in boxes, our stand in hope chests. Eventually we had our own hope chests as well as these boxes stored away for us, beautiful hand crafted family air looms that smelled of cedar and future dreams. Vaarsuvius always assumed that without a doubt I would be married and pregnant someday, and that it is something I would want. I did get married, and the cedar chest is in my home. But it's a different kind of hope chest now. It stores my favorite personal things, and is my office filing cabinet. And I won't be passing it down to any children with a wedding trousseau stuffed into it.    

      I was always fairly quiet, due to nature and the expectation that I be a dutiful child. I cannot remember if I ever saw a copy of To Train Up a Child in our home, but like other christian families we knew that type of philosophy was pervasive. These too were supposedly modern Christians who would probably tell you that they believe themselves to be very different from Fundamentalists. But like my parents they were firm subscribers to Dobson and Focus on the Family. The ideals and philosophies from that ministry are not very different from fundamentalist ones. The idea that a child should be bent to the will of the parent and to God is not different from that of the Pearls.   

     Other child and I were to be seen and not heard. We were expected to obey, and do it with a smile. Any hint of an attitude on our part was seen as defiance and resulted in consequences. This was true if you did not behave as expected and embarrassed our parents. I was once punished because Vaarsuvius wanted to introduce me to someone, but I was shy and hid behind them. This was seen as being unruly and embarrassing them and I was duly punished. We were fairly well behaved due to the fear of what would happen to us if we weren't. This power dynamic did not change much even when we were teens, I was very nearly punished for being ten minutes late for curfew, and almost spanked by Vaarsuvius at sixteen for having an attitude. In fact this power dynamic did not change until recently. As an adult planning my wedding I snipped at Vaarsuvius who was being stubborn and unhelpful and was told "don't you take the tone with me".   

       Vaarsuvius has always called me their compliant child, as Other Child began to show their stripes and distaste for the way we were raised earlier on and in a more vocal fashion. I wasn't though, I did what I need to do to survive and if that meant playing at being the compliant child so I did not get my butt beat, so be it. But inside I was constantly rebelling, I acutely felt a sense of injustice and was well aware that the way I was raised was often wrong. Being a good little country girl saved me, it was a face I wore to protect the "Nora" part of me. This blog, and my pen name is named for that part of me. The compliant country girl saved me until I turned eighteen and could walk away.

Stay tuned for the final post in this series My Story; A Heart Like Mine P3

My story; A Heart Like Mine

 They say you can take the girl out of the country, but not the country out of the girl. I was a country girl once.

     I grew up in rural America among farm fields and livestock. I was in both 4-H and FFA. I attended church, was patriotic and knew how to shoot a gun. My Family was Republican, Evangelical Christian, and I was home schooled due to my families belief the public school system was failing. Both my parents came from agriculture backgrounds so it seemed natural to pass that on to their children. My life revolved around livestock projects and my families love of horses. I was never as good with horses but I had a myriad of my own animal projects to tend to and was kept quiet busy. The church we attended was a start up Evangelical church with a small congregation, under two hundred people. I don't remember my parents specific reasons for choosing the church, but the larger church they had formerly attended had split due to differentiating beliefs. I can no longer recall any joy I might have had going to church. Much of it is marred by the control and abuse of my parents and the difficulties socializing with my own age group. I was bullied and picked on; frankly i was never fast enough or witty enough at comebacks. I was also alienated somewhat due to being home schooled. There were other home school families in the church but despite that there never seemed to be enough common ground between myself and my peers. And it wasn't just my peers, there were adults, public school teachers who would tease about my education. It didn't help that I was not diagnosed with ADD until years later, or that I had learning disabilities. I was also under educated by my primary home school parent. So not only was I the odd kid, but the dumb kid.

     My thoughts about home school are fairly critical, and rightly so. I had a parent teacher who was unable to provide a good foundation in education. They were also experiencing spousal abuse and were more often than not abusive themselves. This made for a difficult parent/teacher and child relationship. I think home schooling already makes the distinction between those relationships difficult and adding abuse makes for no winners. Teaching is a gift that not everyone possess, and my Parent eventually gave up because I had learning difficulties. Instead of seeking help they left me on my own to educate myself. Thankfully I was eventually enrolled in running start.

      My grandparents were occasionally very concerned about my parents home schooling me, but this was met by a defensive wall from my parents who only perceived it as an attack on their choice of home schooling. This is a common problem that can occur in the Christian home school community. Families believe that government agencies will try to take away their rights to teach their children as they see fit. Any criticism of their methods is an attack upon them, their beliefs and rights. Quite often with that being the focus; a child's needs can become a last priority. And in their defensiveness parents like mine are well armed to deal with opposing opinions. Like with their religious beliefs there were a standard set of arguments memorized to defeat any non believers they encountered. And these are the type of arguments that come with a mindset that anyone opposing is trying to manipulate and convert you to false beliefs. So the defense statements are girded to deflect any truly open conversation and minds are closed.

I was raised in a traditional Evangelical Christian home, two kids and nearly white picked fence. For the sake of my safety, and emotional well being and not being met with any lawsuits over slander I will refer to my parents asVaarsuvius and Other Parent as seen in the order of the stick Comic ( a gender neutral couple).

     Other parent wanted the white picket fence dream; barefoot, pregnant, and to be Godly missionaries to the Godless. Vaarsuvius seemed to go along with this fairly willingly. They both deferred to a patriarchal model of Christianity with one of them being the primary household leader and the other submitter (or is that BDSM?)

Unfortunately and as is too often the case, this model of household is the perfect incubator for abuse and is a favored environment for abusers. Adhering to patriarchal Christianity is often a tool used to perpetrate abuse because it assumes that married partners are equal but one more so than the other. It assumes this is because one of the partners is thought to be weaker (even in a gender neutral situation).

      Being the weaker of the partnership comes with all kinds of assumptions in Evangelical Christianity (Patriarchal). First accepting the role as secondary partner means that you are not as intelligent. Second this lack of intelligence affects you ability to reason. Third this lack of reasoning means that you are not able to discern things logically only emotionally. Your sole reliance on emotions to direct you means that they can be erratic and unreasonable and therefore should not be trusted by yourself or others around you. This naturally extends to children who are also presumed to be weaker by the nature of childhood. As weaker parts of the family unit your human rights are assigned accordingly. The secondary parent has supreme rights over the children but not over the primary parent. Children have no rights. Children may be given some rights by virtue of proving that they are not bad, compliant, submissive, godly and that the inherent badness they were born with has been adequately stamped out. But these rights are very small.

     When it comes to a conservative church and community everyone looks to the primary partner as the individual family leader. These primary partners often become church leaders. They are seen as a pinnacle of Godliness; anyone who tries to contradict this image by presenting issues of abuse is only seen as trying to maliciously tear down a good person. And if it is the secondary parent or children speaking out about abuse please see above section about being unintelligent and only ruled by emotions- why should anyone believe you? Again abusers (Other Parent in my case) will use this traditional and religious structure to their benefit. They are pleasing charmers and shining church leaders who can behave how they will behind closed doors at home. No one else will see the behavior and no one would believe that they are anything than how they present themselves to be to the outside world. No one believed myself or Vaarsuvius that Other Parent was an abuser behind closed doors.     Because of the nature of this structure it allows for further abuse, but this time from the secondary "weaker" partner. Either because they were always somewhat abusive themselves or because the damage they take from the primary partner causes them to lash out and transfer the abuse to those lowest in the hierarchy- the children. Vaarsuvius was often equally abusive in our family unit. Add to that each parent tried to pit myself and Other child against one another; it was chaotic and you couldn't really decide who was the worst parent. Survival dictated you pick the one that was going to be nice to your for that day or even for that moment. You constantly had to switch sides. It was incredibly confusing.

     No one had a clue in our little church about the abuse, or if they did they brushed it aside in disbelief. Partly I also think this was due to the nature of the patriarchal christian structure. It is hard to distinguish between those traditional values and abuse. So what if the primary parent is a little controlling. In this structure that is easily dismissed as part of their God defined role. These blurred lines occur in how children are raised as well. I was spanked with wooden spoons and horse quirts and my parents believed that I was to be punished until I submitted, my will was to be bent to theirs and Gods. So child abuse or traditional family values? For the record if you hadn't guessed that is child abuse! Traditional "family values" are also a cover for the parents who take discipline even farther into the abuse spectrum, as is evidenced by the death of children subjected to Michael and Debbie Pearls To Train Up A Child philosophy. Even beloved psychologist, (I say Psychologist in the very loosest sense) Dr. Dobson also advocates similar philosophies. The problem with these philosophies is not that people are wrong for “not wanting to raise bratty children”. Nor is it simply because a minority of abusive parents misuse their teachings. It is the root of those teachings which are inherently problematic. Even when used by non abusive parents these teachings are harmful when applied to children.

      Quiverfull home school Christians and Evangelical home school Christians both frequently adhere to a set of beliefs about child rearing and government interference. I have talked about their ready defense of their home school beliefs, but the second part of these beliefs relates to parenting and child abuse. They quite often believe that the government will snatch their children away from them, and that they will be reported to CPS if their child trips and shows up with a bruise. They believe that CPS is anti parent and is out to get good Godly parents because CPS is the devil and hates Parents especially Christian ones. Parents who abuse their children tend to be even more afraid of the big bad wolf CPS, and for obvious reasons. However Parents like mine convinced themselves they were not abusive parents but that it was CPS and the system that were abusive.

      Children like myself are raised with gnarly fairy tales of children being snatched away and that we had to be careful what we said or the government would take them away and lock them up forever. I received this terrifying lecture once when I had commented out loud about my home environment and that I thought my parents enjoyed spanking me. Other Parent did in fact enjoy doling out punishment.      These lectures were also focused to prepare us for any doctor visits. We were trained what to do, what to say or not say if they doctor said they wanted to talk to us alone. So the very people who might have caught on to abuse issues would be ignorant of what was actually going on. Abusers wield the tool of Christianity well. If if the Secondary partner objects or someone questions their decisions or authority, they can solidly refer to the Bible to back them up. This is of course when spiritual abuse enters the situation, but it's not made out that way. From a traditional patriarchal christian perspective this is just the natural way of things, and a Godly way of life.

My story; A Heart like Mine continued in a follow up post.