Want to be a part of that world… Cult & Childhood Ramblings
“Maybe he’s right. Maybe there is something the matter with me. I just don’t see how a world that makes such wonderful things could be bad…
Look at this stuff, isn’t it neat? Wouldn’t you think my collections complete? Wouldn’t you think I’m the girl, the girl who has everything?
I wanna be where the people are…
Wandering free. Wish I could be. Part of that world…”
I’m sure I’ve wrote about this before. Yet, it’s playing over and over in my head again today. So I’m writing again. Sharing the thoughts stuck in my head.
The above is lyrics from The Little Mermaid. This song occasionally and randomly plays on and on in my head. In a circle. Over and over.
When I was a little girl this was my favorite movie. When I played pretend I always wanted to be Ariel or my dolls were named Ariel. I loved her so much. I was a kid. I never really thought of “why” it was my favorite movie. It just was.
Now, 30 years later… A lot of soul searching on this topic… I understand. At least partially.
Religious Trauma is real. Why did I love The Little Mermaid and Ariel so much as that young girl? She was me. Literally. Because I felt like Ariel, I could relate to her, I felt the same. I wanted to be a part of that world so fucking badly. I was trapped though and Ariel got to be free. I looked up to her. Dreamed of the day I found my prince to sweep me away and become part of the world.
Maybe that’s why I feel like a “prince” is needed in my life. I thought I needed him to save me. To introduce me to the world I wasn’t part of. The moment I thought I was old enough to date I desperately searched for someone, anyone, that would whisk me away to the Disney fairytale world, to the world in general. I never realized I could whisk myself away and create my own world. Ariel needed the prince to join the world. Hell, all Disney movies needed the Prince to save them for their often shitty life and to give them a “good” life. Disney set us all up for failure. For real.
As a child I grew up a Jehovah’s Witness. I was raised hardcore in this religion which I now call a cult as an adult. We went to “meeting” 3 days a week. We went “out in service” (aka knocking on doors) 5-6 days a week, 5-8 hours each day. This was my life from infancy. There was no youth group or children activities. From birth onwards we were expected to sit silently like the adults, follow along, answer questions, etc.
It was engrained into us as children that the “world” was bad. The only good were other JW’s. Everyone and everything else was bad. We needed to stay away from “worldly” people. They’d corrupt us. Ruin us. We’d die in Armageddon if we associated with them. Guilty by association. Jehovah would strike us down for disobeying.
Holidays were the same. Bad. Awful. We’d die if we celebrated. My Grandma would tell me all the bad things that would happen if I did them. I remember as a child watching my classmates make cute holiday crafts while I sat and did homework or extra reading. Practice for the Christmas play while I sat, alone, in the washroom or hall. Class holiday parties that my classmates talked about while I was picked up early so I wouldn’t be exposed.
I spent my childhood thinking my classmates were all going to be killed by an unforgiving God. Spent years feeling guilty because I played with “worldly” people on the playground.
The girl who has everything… My Grandpa made up for my lack of friends and holidays with gifts. I don’t think he really believed either but wanted to make my Grandma happy. Every single Saturday we went to the store and he’d buy me a new toy. I really was the girl who had “everything”. Every Barbie and all the accessories. The coolest new baby dolls and toys. Tents. Bikes. Water toys. I had a couple fellow JW friends and they always loved the “everything” I had. I spent hours playing alone.
I didn’t really have everything though. Materialistically I had it all. Every little girls dream. Yet, I wanted more. I wanted friends. I wanted to be able to see Erica or Stephanie outside of school. Play dates. The birthday parties all the kids gushed about Monday morning that I missed. Going to the movies with my friends. Staying down the holiday parties. Making the arts & crafts.
Really, I just wanted to be… A part of that world.
I couldn’t be though. Early on I doubted “the truth”. I was a smart kid. I was able to think for myself pretty young. I doubted it. I questioned it. I challenged it. By 13 I started to rebel. I started trying to join their world. I started babysitting for “worldly” people. I started trying to find a boyfriend. Because 13 year old me was dumb enough to think some teen boy could rescue me from my religious hell of a life. I was skeptical and so naive that I believed things I shouldn’t.
Then one day the Elders came. They told me I couldn’t babysit for worldly people. They told me I was making my Grandma look bad. I had to choose. 14 year old me had to make a choice… I could quit my worldly associations. I could walk away from that. No more babysitting. No friends. No choir. Just Jehovah and repenting and studying his word. Or I could leave and live somewhere else. I could lose the few friends I had in the JW world because they couldn’t be my friend if I didn’t follow Jehovah. The only friends I’d ever had. I could lose my grandparents. If I didn’t quit I had to leave.
I’ll never forget that moment. It’s a core memory. I was a child. Acting like a child. I didn’t deserve to be given this ultimatum. Yet, I was. My Grandpa wasn’t there. He’d of never made me choose and I’m sure this wasn’t of agreement to him. My grandma just sat quietly crying. The Elders did all the talking and when they were done… they told me I had a choice to make.
I remember looking at them. Looking at her. Standing up. Holding my head up high. Announcing that babysitting wasn’t against the “rules” and I’d just find somewhere else to live and I walked out without looking back. I remember walking down the street thinking WTF – what God tells you to kick out a kid? Stopping and sitting on the school steps because now I was 14 and homeless. Way to go Jehovah. Now I was officially abandoned by the only people I ever had consistently in my life. My alcoholic, depressed, narcissistic, partying mother then let me move in. Let me. Yay for me.
I was now a part of their world. Naive. Sheltered. Unleashed into a society I knew little about. With pretty much no supervision. I will forever believe this was a massive turning point in my life. I was drinking within just a few weeks, smoking pot within a year, doing meth within 3 years. Pregnant at 15. I knew nothing. I had nobody. Renting my own house by 17 and working my ass off to pay bills and graduate.
Thus, this is where my obsession with men began. With males I should say. I wanted someone to love me. To save me like they do in Disney movies. In my head if I could just find a boy to seriously latch on to I’d be loved and taken care of. I’d have someone that finally cared about me. Pregnancy wasn’t the biggest accident. I wasn’t careful but I also didn’t care… I just wanted someone to love me. My own baby would love me. Right? (Yeah, it was way harder than that. My baby loved me but boy was it a lot of work for a 16 year old to care for a tiny human, work full time, attend high school full time and try to keep my own house clean. All while still trying to be a part of the world I didn’t know and partying like a rockstar.)
In the end, I’ve succeeded. I graduated high school a semester early. I graduated with an Associates and Bachelors Degree. I had 3 babies by 20 and raised them to be productive adults, graduate high school, go to college or enter a trade. Bought a beautiful house in the best neighborhood. Got an amazing career. I did it. We beat the statistics. We grew up together essentially.
Yet, emotionally I’ve never been fulfilled. I’ve always been left wishing to be a part of the world I never knew well. I’ve made poor decisions trying to fit in. I’ve desperately tried to find a man to build the life I was left feeling like I wanted and needed a man for. I truly believe this is why I latch on like I do. It’s all I’ve ever known. Rejection from my parents by 1. Rejection by my Grandma and the church by 14. Rejection from numerous males by 15 and numerous friends because I was socially always and never fit in anywhere.
The cult always left me wanting more. Needing more. Feeling alone. Now my Grandpa, the one person who never abandoned me, has left this world and I’m feeling all the feels and abandoned again. (After my Grandma kicked me out my Grandpa still gave me money, rides, food. He was always a call away and the best man ever.) Now I’m doubly latching on for a man to love me and feel the need of being loved and replacing the only healthy male relationship I’ve probably ever had in my life.
In the end, it’s all the cult. I’ve always wanted to be a part of the world. Never wanted to believe worldly associations were deadly. I’ve just never knew how to be a part of the world really. Not in a healthy way. That’s what I need to learn now. How to survive in the world healthily. Without always feeling like I need someone to survive or emotionally support and fill me.
This is why I love The Little Mermaid and look up to Ariel. Now I just need to accept I don’t need a Prince Eric to be okay.
Amazingly, I’ve briefly talked to Cody today. Just by text but it’s better than nothing. I quit texting last night after he apologized. Simply told him not to apologize, I knew he was busy and I just overthink. I’m slightly mad at myself today – I did deserve the apology because going pure silent is not okay. He could have texted me a thanks or I’m busy or I don’t want to talk. So yeah, he did owe me the apology and it wasn’t okay. Typical me, always telling people it’s fine to hurt me. Don’t apologize. It’s okay. It’s like in the cult, as a girl, you learned to take the blame – if bad stuff happened it was because of your sins or you did something bad. You deserved it. Women were less and not worthy of much of anything. We were meant to be compliant, quiet, followers. That sure got engrained in me.
Anyways, I texted this morning and simply asked if he wanted to go for a hike at straight up 5 pm for one hour. I’m realizing I think he doesn’t want to come to my house. At least my overthinking brain feels like he doesn’t and maybe it’s because we’re totally having sex if he does and he doesn’t want sex or maybe it’s because it’s harder to leave when there isn’t a clear cut ending to a date. So I thought I’d try an actual plan with an end date.
Incredibly, he texted back right away he couldn’t as he has to work. Fair enough.
I gave it a bit and asked if he wanted to go on a roadtrip tomorrow (2 hours round trip) as I need to buy Halloween Candy at Walmart. He again quickly responded that he had to work in the morning for A as A went to jail but he probably could go after if I wanted. Of course I replied… First I mentioned I was sad A went to jail as I love the guy. A lot. Addiction is a bitch. Then simply said, Sounds good on going. Just let me know when you’re off and ready. He replied with “Ok”. That’s it but I’ll take that too.
Now I’m going to not text him the remainder of the day… Okay, that’s a lie, I’m totally texting him a picture of my hike. It’s going to be beautiful as I should reach the top in time for sunset. That’s it tho and I’m not texting him tomorrow until he’s off work. I feel like maybe I overwhelm him with my clinginess and neediness and I need to quit being so needy anyways. I don’t need constant communication. Less is more. I’d rather have quality over quantity.
I’m slightly fearful he’ll back out on me tomorrow but we will see. So far he’s mostly done what he said he will – minus while his mom died but that obviously shouldn’t count. I’m just used to the rejection and always expect everyone to fail me. After writing this entry tho – I was failed since childhood. My mom and dad failed me by ditching me for alcohol and drugs before I was even a year or two old. My grandma and the church failed me by kicking me out and literally abandoning me at 14. My mom failed me again by not being able to parent or step it up at 14. Teachers that thought I was a lost cause failed me. (Thank God for the 3 teachers that believed in me, supported me and got me to that finish line even on the honor roll.). My daughter’s father failed me by being way too old and impregnating a minor then not helping. My probation officer at 15 failed me by doing nothing with me. I honestly just anticipate failure, rejection and abandonment. It’s “normal”. I was taught as a child it was normal.
A child should never feel that way or be taught that. Ugh. Nearly every adult in my life really sucked.
Anyways, we’ll see how tomorrow goes. My latest training is over and I better go do a meeting with my new hire. I do think I need to write far more on childhood, the cult, etc and really address the child in me that was hurt. Thats where the healing needs to begin.