The church was really big with tons of people crammed into the auditorium. I don’t remember too much about the particulars. I just remember at some point looking down the aisle at my family and friends all lined up side by side. Every face was pinched. Every shoulder tight. Every back stiff. I don’t even remember what we all said afterward about the experience. I just remember that one moment.

A few of us have gone back to church on a regular basis. Some have officially joined congregations and are very happy with the community of believers they are connected with. Some of us go to church every so often– maybe still looking for a good fit, only wanting small doses of organized religion, or being unable/unwilling to delve any deeper than surface level. Some of us do not go to church at all. Haven’t gone for years now. Have no desire whatsoever to go again.

At this point in the game, I am in category B. We have only been to church once in the last 9 months (maybe that puts me in B1/2 – closer to C than I realized). I don’t know. I just don’t get much out of it. Maybe if “The Ultimate Church!” were near us, things would be different. But, as it is, we have to drive an hour one way just to get to where any churches are, so seriously, unless that church is really amazing, it’s not worth it to me.

I used to feel so strongly about finding a really great church that I would have moved anywhere in the world just to be a part of that. With that mind set, I ended up in a cult. I think I will take a more relaxed approach toward the subject now. So, I am not totally closed to the idea of church. I just don’t feel like it is an essential part of life.

I probably should not bring the subject up. At all. Ever. But, I have not figured out how to avoid the topic yet. That could be because I am only 29 years old and a very large portion of my adult life (age 19-26) was monopolized by the event. So, there are not very many things to refer to in my adult life outside the circumstances of the cult. The problem could also lie in the fact that I tend to wear my heart on my sleeve. That’s a nice way of saying I have no filter between my brain and my mouth. I think it, I say it. Not the best way of communicating, but we all have our faults.

I’ve heard from some of the families that were in the cult that they have been told time and again by various significant individuals (like school guidance counselors, therapists, etc.) to not tell anyone about their cult experience. They believe it will ostracize them and cause more harm than good. Sounds like good advice.

So far, none of my friends (even new ones) have run screaming away from me, though. Nor has anyone recommended a long vacation at the local loony bin. People are just too reserved for that. No, seriously, outside the initial reaction, my cultic history has yet to adversely affect my personal relationships. I guess, my shining personality wins in the end!

People who don’t know me personally, however, are another story. For instance, some people who have seen the movie or heard our story but don’t actually know me seem to hang on tight to their initial reactions of disgust, pity, and suspicion. That makes sense though. They don’t know me or anyone else who has been through this type of experience to be able to relate.