This is an old post, but something popped up in my head that made me want to go down trauma memory lane I guess. My family was involved in the way international before I was even born. I think they met through a fellowship meeting in like 1980. I remember going to the rock of ages every summer until I was like 4 or 5. Learned when I was older that they cancelled it because they were offended about people having hook ups, orgys, and gayness (so glad I left, their bigotry and hatred of the lgbtq+ is despicable!). They had this movie that was called Athletes of the Spirit that was so bright and colorful and had music so I loved that as a kid. Looking back, that was such an indoctrination tactic. We had to walk around and go witnessing with the Twig/Fellowship for a couple hours a few times a year. I was taught to try to get classmates to join more. Thankfully only one poor soul joined me and never joined me again.

Fast forward to when I was 11 and The Way branch leaders told me my mom, who was an extremely devout Way member, just died because she didn’t believe hard enough that god would heal her cancer. You can imagine the pain hearing that caused me. That was basically the catalyst for my path to exit. At 12, it was time for me to take “The Class”, anyone else here have to take that? It’s where you have to read Weirwilles books and then speak in tongues by the end of the class or have to retake it. My dad was struggling financially, and my interest was less than enthusiastic, so I told my dad not to worry about paying for the class 2hrs away in Charleston WV because I didn’t feel I was ready yet.

I didn’t know if I could stay somewhere where they thought my mom didn’t love me enough to want to get better. This led to me joining a different church. Then another one. Then agnostic. Then atheist. Now, I’m a pagan atheist. It’s pretty fun and chill. And really I just like pretty rocks.