Cults and Creativity Do Not Mix

My sister's pet bird sitting on my shoulder, I played music halfheartedly on a summer day circa 1994. Having this creative streak was rough growing up. I had to keep it leashed; under strict control. I was always being watched, monitored by the cult in which I was being raised. Everything was a fucking ordeal. The music I wanted to play, the shows I wanted to watch... even certain Disney movies were off limits. Anything that featured "magic" or "witches" was forbidden. The ironic part? I was permitted to watch "The Wizard of Oz" every single year that it aired on television. It took everything that I had to not become a teen runaway. The repressed household where my parents reared me in included being in one of the most elitist religions with a penchant for excommunicating their adherents for leaving.

At the age of 18 and the day after graduation, in June of 1996, I walked out of my parents' home and fled. The farthest I ever made it was only a 3 hour drive away. I was stalked by telephone and harassed by mail. The church officials wanted to have a "meeting" with their "lost sheep." I was done with the absurd rules and rigid lifestyle. I wanted to be able to have a telephone conversation with a boy without being accused of committing "fornication." I wanted to be able to go on a normal date, walk the mall, see a movie or have dinner with friends without being followed by my mother.

At 18, I didn't know what emotional blackmail was and I was only out of the cult for 4 short years. At 22, I wearily went back only to have the affections of my family. Eight more years passed and I still didn't know exactly what was wrong but I knew that something had to change or I was going to die. I was already dead inside. My creativity had almost completely perished. I had stopped playing my music. I had stopped taking pictures. I was becoming a robotic drone without an outlet for my artistic nature. This cult wanted to extinguish my individuality and use me for its own ends. I couldn't let that happen. Still, I remained. I knew if I left I'd lose everyone forever.

And so, only 5 1/2 short years ago, I finally broke free.

I lost my entire family. I have no relationship with my aging parents or siblings. I am the youngest of 3 and I do not exist to any of them.

I have gained much more than I lost, though. I have the most amazing fiance. I have amazing friends. I have an amazing surrogate family in which I have found love and support and they are ex-cult members, too. I also found long lost cousins thanks to Facebook that I hadn't seen in over 20 years.

Best of all, I've regained my creativity. The creativity that almost died when I thought I could no longer go on.

And that is something that I will NEVER allow anyone to stifle or restrict again. The fire burns within and will go on as long as I do.