The Day I Left The Cult

I have a small tattoo of a swallow on my back. A bird tattooed on the back often symbolizes freedom. One could say it’s a bit cliché but the story behind my bird tattoo is anything but cliché. You see; I was raised in a cult since the age of three.

While many children grow up learning about their ABCs and how to count, my earliest memories are centered around becoming an “End-time Warrior.” I learned how to read at 4-years old and while this was unique for a community where education was considered evil, I was taught how to read so I could read “God’s” word. This is an innocent reason, right?

In reality, God’s word was actually the writings of a crazed sex addict, who believed the end of the world was coming, and coming soon. He wrote about a sexy woman named “Heaven’s Girl” who fought the Antichrist and used her charms to escape the "evil men" and as a young girl, I thought that’s what I had to aspire to be.

To say that my upbringing was dark in many ways would be an understatement but the story behind my tattoo isn’t a sad one. At the age of 25, I was finally able to leave the cult, alone and in a foreign country, but determined for my life to be everything I wanted it to be and to find my way in a world that I didn’t know or understand. Growing up in secluded communes all of my life, I didn’t know much about how things work in the real world, but as I made my way, teaching myself everything I needed to know, I found freedom.

I found that I could be myself “out here.” I found that my purpose wasn’t to serve a higher power who was about to strike humans down any day while I also striving to be some erotic “Heaven’s girl.” My life was all mine now and I could be anything I wanted to be.

Given the gift of reading and writing since such a young age was about the only good that came from the cult and through this medium, I found my voice. I found my life’s work. I found my way. The little swallow on my back may be “so girly” but in this small tattoo lies a meaning so deep, it’s huge for me. I was able to leave the only life I ever knew, even after having been indoctrinated all my life that if I left, God would turn his back on me and my life would fall to shambles.

I found freedom when I walked out the front door of the commune, with little to my name. I had to go get my first job at 25 as a server to make money to pay rent for the first time. I studied Algebra to be able to pass my GED test and get my diploma at 25. I went hungry for the first two months because what I was making when I started a teaching job in Mexico was barely enough to pay rent, so I'd only eat one very small meal a day.

Can you picture having to leave your secluded life, never having gone to school, knowing nothing about the secular world, having lived a life at hands of people who weren’t always good people? Can you imagine being taught that to be blessed by God, you had to be intimate with people you didn’t want to be intimate with? Can you imagine fighting through your fear of the unknown to find your freedom? My freedom was found in blood, sweat, and tears but it was worth it. It was so worth it! So, when people see my small tattoo on the upper right corner of my back, they may see something a bit “basic” but what I see is something that symbolizes and reminds me of how I fought to be free and made it.