12 ICSA TODAY
Editor’s Note: Names and situational details have been changed to
protect confidentiality.
My son’s involvement in a cult of one began with me. Some years
ago, I consulted with a gypsy. I was young, I wanted the magic, and
more than anything I wanted to know my future.
As Anastasia, the gypsy, tilted her head of thick, salt-and-pepper
hair pulled back into a tight bun that failed to fight her unruly curls, I
stared into her brown eyes that were fierce and yet kind at the same
time. Sitting in the living room of her railroad apartment, looking at
all her knickknacks, doing my best to get comfortable on the gold
velvet couch that was covered with plastic while her two sons smiled
at me with the same brown eyes, I felt excited because I had entered
their world. As she popped open a red can of Coca-Cola with her
large hands, I noticed her gold rings. There was a photo on her wall
of a famous actress who starred in a cult classic in which her attire
throughout was her bra and slip. Anastasia’s daughter-in-law came
in holding an infant girl with jet-black hair and said, glancing at the
photo, “She always gives Mama lots of jewelry because of all Mama
does for her.” The baby, with her doe eyes and white skin, would one
day become my son’s love.
Anastasia told me I was going to meet a man whose sign was Scorpio
and whose name would begin with the letter M. She told me I would
love his accent. Indeed, 3 weeks later I met Mark, a Scorpio who
came from London. I was hooked, and the story became legend in
my home. Our son heard it growing up looking back at it now, my
husband Mark and I realize just how deeply he was impressed.
I had been tricked. Psychic 101 tells us the most common letters in
the English language for a first name are J and M, the most common
Zodiac sign is Scorpio, and all American women love a British accent.
A few years later, when Anastasia died, I attended her funeral, and
people threw cans of Coca-Cola, dollars, some jewelry, and other
things she would like into her casket. I looked for the opal ring I had
given to her, the one she had told me was cursed, but it wasn’t on her
fingers.
Yes, the little baby with the black hair, doe-like brown eyes, and
porcelain skin grew up. And at the age of 18, when my son saw her,
he fell in love with her delicate beauty. I had moved on with my
life but periodically would attend barbecues and a random gypsy
birthday celebration. My son fell into their web, drawn in by the now
almost-20-year-old granddaughter of Anastasia. He became their link
to the outside world computer literate and cultured, he became their
aide, chauffer, and adopted son. He played guitar for the patrons
of the fortune-telling business, collecting jewelry and money they
willingly handed over to remove curses.
I began living with the harsh reality that Anastasia’s granddaughter
had complete control over my son. He had become entangled in
this band of gypsies who all heeded their new matriarch, Anastasia’s
daughter-in-law. He had run off, dropped out of college, and cut off
all family and friends. Anastasia’s daughter-in-law and granddaughter
had skillfully unraveled all that which bound our son to his family.
He was lured in. Stolen. Gone. I needed support. The pain was
unbearable, and the ache in my heart for what was once there was
replaced with a hollow feeling that did not stop.
Parents who have lost a child to cult involvement, and family
members who have had their spouses, siblings, or even parents
recruited into groups are often isolated, lonely, and in need of the
friendship and support of others in similar situations. The problem is
finding these friends of circumstance, and once found, creating a safe
place to bond, share information, and talk about events in their lives.
The Internet—more specifically, Facebook’s world of secret groups,
provides a supportive, economical, and most importantly, consistent
environment.
Looking for support, I joined a secret, online support group for
parents of estranged children. The group was not specific to cult
involvement, but the emotions of the members were similar: feelings
of loneliness, extreme sadness, frustration exemplified by the
common discussions of families being cut off, letters not read, texts
not answered, and the empty chair on holidays. Yet I found this group
not quite satisfying.
One day, a woman in the group posted about her daughter-in-law,
who had taken her son away from her. She ranted angrily about this
evil woman and mentioned “that stupid religion of hers, Jehovah’s
Witnesses.” Bells rang, a light turned on, and I realized, “I am not alone
here after all with a cult problem.” Indeed, there were others, and I
could connect. Little did I know that the initial private message I sent
her would lead to the formation of friendships and a second online
support group, specific to families who have loved ones in cults, that
has lasted almost three years now!
The group, still nameless at the time, soon became a haven where
resources were shared: books to read, exit counselors to reach out
to, and therapists to contact. The never-ending challenge of families
dealing with manipulative gurus, narcissists bent on subjugating
By Trudy Kendrick
families helping
families
Editor’s Note: Names and situational details have been changed to
protect confidentiality.
My son’s involvement in a cult of one began with me. Some years
ago, I consulted with a gypsy. I was young, I wanted the magic, and
more than anything I wanted to know my future.
As Anastasia, the gypsy, tilted her head of thick, salt-and-pepper
hair pulled back into a tight bun that failed to fight her unruly curls, I
stared into her brown eyes that were fierce and yet kind at the same
time. Sitting in the living room of her railroad apartment, looking at
all her knickknacks, doing my best to get comfortable on the gold
velvet couch that was covered with plastic while her two sons smiled
at me with the same brown eyes, I felt excited because I had entered
their world. As she popped open a red can of Coca-Cola with her
large hands, I noticed her gold rings. There was a photo on her wall
of a famous actress who starred in a cult classic in which her attire
throughout was her bra and slip. Anastasia’s daughter-in-law came
in holding an infant girl with jet-black hair and said, glancing at the
photo, “She always gives Mama lots of jewelry because of all Mama
does for her.” The baby, with her doe eyes and white skin, would one
day become my son’s love.
Anastasia told me I was going to meet a man whose sign was Scorpio
and whose name would begin with the letter M. She told me I would
love his accent. Indeed, 3 weeks later I met Mark, a Scorpio who
came from London. I was hooked, and the story became legend in
my home. Our son heard it growing up looking back at it now, my
husband Mark and I realize just how deeply he was impressed.
I had been tricked. Psychic 101 tells us the most common letters in
the English language for a first name are J and M, the most common
Zodiac sign is Scorpio, and all American women love a British accent.
A few years later, when Anastasia died, I attended her funeral, and
people threw cans of Coca-Cola, dollars, some jewelry, and other
things she would like into her casket. I looked for the opal ring I had
given to her, the one she had told me was cursed, but it wasn’t on her
fingers.
Yes, the little baby with the black hair, doe-like brown eyes, and
porcelain skin grew up. And at the age of 18, when my son saw her,
he fell in love with her delicate beauty. I had moved on with my
life but periodically would attend barbecues and a random gypsy
birthday celebration. My son fell into their web, drawn in by the now
almost-20-year-old granddaughter of Anastasia. He became their link
to the outside world computer literate and cultured, he became their
aide, chauffer, and adopted son. He played guitar for the patrons
of the fortune-telling business, collecting jewelry and money they
willingly handed over to remove curses.
I began living with the harsh reality that Anastasia’s granddaughter
had complete control over my son. He had become entangled in
this band of gypsies who all heeded their new matriarch, Anastasia’s
daughter-in-law. He had run off, dropped out of college, and cut off
all family and friends. Anastasia’s daughter-in-law and granddaughter
had skillfully unraveled all that which bound our son to his family.
He was lured in. Stolen. Gone. I needed support. The pain was
unbearable, and the ache in my heart for what was once there was
replaced with a hollow feeling that did not stop.
Parents who have lost a child to cult involvement, and family
members who have had their spouses, siblings, or even parents
recruited into groups are often isolated, lonely, and in need of the
friendship and support of others in similar situations. The problem is
finding these friends of circumstance, and once found, creating a safe
place to bond, share information, and talk about events in their lives.
The Internet—more specifically, Facebook’s world of secret groups,
provides a supportive, economical, and most importantly, consistent
environment.
Looking for support, I joined a secret, online support group for
parents of estranged children. The group was not specific to cult
involvement, but the emotions of the members were similar: feelings
of loneliness, extreme sadness, frustration exemplified by the
common discussions of families being cut off, letters not read, texts
not answered, and the empty chair on holidays. Yet I found this group
not quite satisfying.
One day, a woman in the group posted about her daughter-in-law,
who had taken her son away from her. She ranted angrily about this
evil woman and mentioned “that stupid religion of hers, Jehovah’s
Witnesses.” Bells rang, a light turned on, and I realized, “I am not alone
here after all with a cult problem.” Indeed, there were others, and I
could connect. Little did I know that the initial private message I sent
her would lead to the formation of friendships and a second online
support group, specific to families who have loved ones in cults, that
has lasted almost three years now!
The group, still nameless at the time, soon became a haven where
resources were shared: books to read, exit counselors to reach out
to, and therapists to contact. The never-ending challenge of families
dealing with manipulative gurus, narcissists bent on subjugating
By Trudy Kendrick
families helping
families
