Cultic Studies Review, Vol. 9, No. 1, 2010, Page 117
programs. However, Miscavige micromanaged every word in the scripts, every line in the
speeches, every piece of text in the magazine, and every target in the programs. Nothing
was ever good enough or correct enough. The demands always led to sleep deprivation to
repeatedly redo the work, and endless disciplinary measures. After nine months, I resigned
the post. Within an hour after my resignation, two security guards escorted me to a work
site at our property‘s drainage canal. I hauled rocks in the desert heat for two weeks to
build up the canal‘s retaining walls. Compared to the abuse I had experienced, hauling rocks
was a welcome relief.
My third and final phase began in late 1996 when I requested to return to my Uniform
Project In-Charge post, starting with Miscavige‘s favorite organization in Clearwater, Florida.
For six months I developed a new image for the Flag Land Base staff, creating everything
from new hair styles and make-up to an intricate uniform program. I went on to design
clothing for the senior levels of Scientology management. Miscavige twice labeled me the
most productive staff member on the base. This validated my identity as a creative
individual, and brought me ethics protection and a promotion to an officer rank.
I lived within an ongoing dichotomy—my sCS that desired to survive as a creative individual
free to communicate without suppression, and the commitment I had made to my husband
to be in the Sea Org. This conflict was fueled by my disagreement with management‘s
suppressive treatment of staff, which tore the utopian veil shrouding my eyes. In my travels
through the Scientology world, I had seen staff subject to slave-labor working conditions
and degraded living conditions worse than my own, which had obliterated their self-esteem
and ability to create on their eight dynamics while at International Management, we were
making about $7 million per week. I lost my naivety about the artist‘s role in Scientology‘s
peaceful revolution. I shared this awareness with my husband, but otherwise kept my
critical thoughts secret to avoid discipline.
My desire to be creative again in life finally surpassed the suppressive sovereignty of
leadership in 1998. Without my sCS, I could have gone completely insane or attempted
suicide, like some did. I failed in my final effort to get my husband to leave, realizing I had
been in denial about losing Peter to Scientology groupthink and power dynamics. Peter had
relinquished all self-sovereignty to the Scientology leadership, and exerted no mental effort
to think independently or to question the status quo of the Int Base milieu. I made my final
escape August 1, 1998. Miscavige controlled our divorce process, which resulted in the loss
of my husband of 21 years and my identity as a creative artist in the world Peter and I had
created together.
Thanks to my rebellion against Scientology sovereignty, my sCS was free to emerge. I
developed a strong, highly creative self resistant to power dynamics. After I left,
Scientology authorities made attempts to threaten, influence, or otherwise control my life,
but I had become impervious to them. Overcoming this battle served to strengthen my
resilience against power dynamics in general, despite Hubbard‘s label that people who leave
the Sea Org are degraded beings who would never make it outside of Scientology.
I had to rediscover the world without the Scientology polemic, and form a new identity.
Using my design talent to support Scientology had killed my desire to design. Instead, as a
fierce defender of freedom of speech, I found that other creative urges surged in my life. I
tapped into a network of organizations who wanted to hear about my Scientology
experiences. Ignoring ―advice‖ from new associates that I needed professional speaker
training before I took speaking engagements, I have since spoken at nearly 100
conferences and have lectured in numerous academic settings. Others told me that I
shouldn‘t speak out about Scientology at all, to avoid becoming ―fair game‖ for their
suppressive tactics against me as a critic. Nevertheless, I‘ve been interviewed by dozens of
radio talk-show hosts, television shows, and newspapers and magazines, including CBS
programs. However, Miscavige micromanaged every word in the scripts, every line in the
speeches, every piece of text in the magazine, and every target in the programs. Nothing
was ever good enough or correct enough. The demands always led to sleep deprivation to
repeatedly redo the work, and endless disciplinary measures. After nine months, I resigned
the post. Within an hour after my resignation, two security guards escorted me to a work
site at our property‘s drainage canal. I hauled rocks in the desert heat for two weeks to
build up the canal‘s retaining walls. Compared to the abuse I had experienced, hauling rocks
was a welcome relief.
My third and final phase began in late 1996 when I requested to return to my Uniform
Project In-Charge post, starting with Miscavige‘s favorite organization in Clearwater, Florida.
For six months I developed a new image for the Flag Land Base staff, creating everything
from new hair styles and make-up to an intricate uniform program. I went on to design
clothing for the senior levels of Scientology management. Miscavige twice labeled me the
most productive staff member on the base. This validated my identity as a creative
individual, and brought me ethics protection and a promotion to an officer rank.
I lived within an ongoing dichotomy—my sCS that desired to survive as a creative individual
free to communicate without suppression, and the commitment I had made to my husband
to be in the Sea Org. This conflict was fueled by my disagreement with management‘s
suppressive treatment of staff, which tore the utopian veil shrouding my eyes. In my travels
through the Scientology world, I had seen staff subject to slave-labor working conditions
and degraded living conditions worse than my own, which had obliterated their self-esteem
and ability to create on their eight dynamics while at International Management, we were
making about $7 million per week. I lost my naivety about the artist‘s role in Scientology‘s
peaceful revolution. I shared this awareness with my husband, but otherwise kept my
critical thoughts secret to avoid discipline.
My desire to be creative again in life finally surpassed the suppressive sovereignty of
leadership in 1998. Without my sCS, I could have gone completely insane or attempted
suicide, like some did. I failed in my final effort to get my husband to leave, realizing I had
been in denial about losing Peter to Scientology groupthink and power dynamics. Peter had
relinquished all self-sovereignty to the Scientology leadership, and exerted no mental effort
to think independently or to question the status quo of the Int Base milieu. I made my final
escape August 1, 1998. Miscavige controlled our divorce process, which resulted in the loss
of my husband of 21 years and my identity as a creative artist in the world Peter and I had
created together.
Thanks to my rebellion against Scientology sovereignty, my sCS was free to emerge. I
developed a strong, highly creative self resistant to power dynamics. After I left,
Scientology authorities made attempts to threaten, influence, or otherwise control my life,
but I had become impervious to them. Overcoming this battle served to strengthen my
resilience against power dynamics in general, despite Hubbard‘s label that people who leave
the Sea Org are degraded beings who would never make it outside of Scientology.
I had to rediscover the world without the Scientology polemic, and form a new identity.
Using my design talent to support Scientology had killed my desire to design. Instead, as a
fierce defender of freedom of speech, I found that other creative urges surged in my life. I
tapped into a network of organizations who wanted to hear about my Scientology
experiences. Ignoring ―advice‖ from new associates that I needed professional speaker
training before I took speaking engagements, I have since spoken at nearly 100
conferences and have lectured in numerous academic settings. Others told me that I
shouldn‘t speak out about Scientology at all, to avoid becoming ―fair game‖ for their
suppressive tactics against me as a critic. Nevertheless, I‘ve been interviewed by dozens of
radio talk-show hosts, television shows, and newspapers and magazines, including CBS
