Cultic Studies Review, Vol. 5, No. 1, 2006, Page 13
baton twirling) or simply hang out with friends. When she did spend time on noncult
activities or with friends, her commitment to God was harshly questioned. Dating boys was
not allowed. People outside the church were seen as ―worldly and hypocritical.‖ Sue started
to believe that she had to be the perfect representative of the cult: Her father was
depending on her.
Her father, who was an elder in the church, and her mother, who resentfully followed her
husband‘s lead, focused less on Sue and more on the demands of the minister.
Subsequently, Sue felt emotionally abandoned by her parents at this difficult stage of life.5
She learned to hide her own resentments because to protest turned her into a bad person in
the group‘s eyes. She learned to look like a perfect adolescent but secretly rebelled by
smoking cigarettes when she was alone. She learned to play two roles: the perfect,
committed cult teenager and the typical, fun-loving, high-school adolescent. Within the cult
world, Sue was ashamed of her teenage attitudes and her continuing desire to have a
normal teenage life. However, when she was with her girlfriends at school, she attempted to
hide her newly learned condemning cultic attitudes so she would not lose her friends and
would be able to survive the high-school years. Despite her attempts to hide this ―double
life,‖ her friends saw a change. She seemed more emotionally distant. At times, she found
she was setting herself up as an ―example‖ to her friends, and she suspected that she had
become somewhat self-righteous. She reflected in therapy about how her personality lost its
sparkle. She felt that she became colorless, and that she was playing a role.
In Sue‘s words,
I can picture it all so clearly: when this caving in of sorts first happened.
Going into the summer before my freshman year of high school, I remember
so well that feeling of being hopeful and excited and unhesitant about life. I
had worked really hard on my baton routine that spring and practiced all the
time for majorette tryouts. I was so determined and focused. I wore this
yellow and white terry cloth shorts set to the try-out. I was ecstatic when I
learned that I made it as an incoming freshman. I felt really proud and
complete and hopeful.
I‘ve felt proud about some things since that time, but it‘s never been that
same kind of clean pride. In the cult, it was a shameful pride. After the cult, it
was basically muddied and regretful pride over my sporadic accomplishments.
For many years, I felt no pride at all. Over the past two years, it‘s been a
catching-up pride. All of this has left me feeling incomplete.
I remember the minister coming to my house to visit my Dad that summer.
He was friendly and interested in me. Later my Dad told me that he was
impressed with me: my enthusiasm, my spunk, my brightness. I remember
feeling flattered. Who wouldn‘t be? Thinking back on it, it all looks so
different. I see him as a dirty, pimp-like man who saw a pretty little girl and
liked what he saw, showered me with gifts and attention, and then turned
around and raped me. Then he sent me out on the streets to work for him
and turned his attention to someone else.
But that‘s not how it seemed that day. I was still my own person then—
completely. It took a little while for me to get the big picture that my life
wasn‘t mine anymore. But once I did, there was a big change on the inside
that went along with what must have looked like a small change on the
outside.
With the minister‘s visit to her home, Sue moved from seeing her parents as the authorities
in her life to seeing the minister and later the group‘s teen leaders in that role. This
baton twirling) or simply hang out with friends. When she did spend time on noncult
activities or with friends, her commitment to God was harshly questioned. Dating boys was
not allowed. People outside the church were seen as ―worldly and hypocritical.‖ Sue started
to believe that she had to be the perfect representative of the cult: Her father was
depending on her.
Her father, who was an elder in the church, and her mother, who resentfully followed her
husband‘s lead, focused less on Sue and more on the demands of the minister.
Subsequently, Sue felt emotionally abandoned by her parents at this difficult stage of life.5
She learned to hide her own resentments because to protest turned her into a bad person in
the group‘s eyes. She learned to look like a perfect adolescent but secretly rebelled by
smoking cigarettes when she was alone. She learned to play two roles: the perfect,
committed cult teenager and the typical, fun-loving, high-school adolescent. Within the cult
world, Sue was ashamed of her teenage attitudes and her continuing desire to have a
normal teenage life. However, when she was with her girlfriends at school, she attempted to
hide her newly learned condemning cultic attitudes so she would not lose her friends and
would be able to survive the high-school years. Despite her attempts to hide this ―double
life,‖ her friends saw a change. She seemed more emotionally distant. At times, she found
she was setting herself up as an ―example‖ to her friends, and she suspected that she had
become somewhat self-righteous. She reflected in therapy about how her personality lost its
sparkle. She felt that she became colorless, and that she was playing a role.
In Sue‘s words,
I can picture it all so clearly: when this caving in of sorts first happened.
Going into the summer before my freshman year of high school, I remember
so well that feeling of being hopeful and excited and unhesitant about life. I
had worked really hard on my baton routine that spring and practiced all the
time for majorette tryouts. I was so determined and focused. I wore this
yellow and white terry cloth shorts set to the try-out. I was ecstatic when I
learned that I made it as an incoming freshman. I felt really proud and
complete and hopeful.
I‘ve felt proud about some things since that time, but it‘s never been that
same kind of clean pride. In the cult, it was a shameful pride. After the cult, it
was basically muddied and regretful pride over my sporadic accomplishments.
For many years, I felt no pride at all. Over the past two years, it‘s been a
catching-up pride. All of this has left me feeling incomplete.
I remember the minister coming to my house to visit my Dad that summer.
He was friendly and interested in me. Later my Dad told me that he was
impressed with me: my enthusiasm, my spunk, my brightness. I remember
feeling flattered. Who wouldn‘t be? Thinking back on it, it all looks so
different. I see him as a dirty, pimp-like man who saw a pretty little girl and
liked what he saw, showered me with gifts and attention, and then turned
around and raped me. Then he sent me out on the streets to work for him
and turned his attention to someone else.
But that‘s not how it seemed that day. I was still my own person then—
completely. It took a little while for me to get the big picture that my life
wasn‘t mine anymore. But once I did, there was a big change on the inside
that went along with what must have looked like a small change on the
outside.
With the minister‘s visit to her home, Sue moved from seeing her parents as the authorities
in her life to seeing the minister and later the group‘s teen leaders in that role. This
