This is Who I Am
Who are YOU?
This year, I celebrated my 74th birthday. Not bad for a gal who thought she’d never live past the age of thirty. I was raised to believe that the world would soon end. My parents anticipated being raptured. But they’re now gone from this life, and I’m still here. Nothing turned out the way they told me it would.
Much of my early life was spent trying to figure out the cultural expectations of the civilian world.
That’s what I called American life outside the cult. Once I left home, I soon discovered that the rest of the country also had many, many rules — both unwritten and written. To adhere to them was as important as it was for me to be an obedient child in a religious cult. If I wanted to belong, I needed to conform as quickly as possible.
I wasn’t comfortable with many of the cultural expectations of the civilian world.
They didn’t align with my authentic self. You know what I mean? That piece of me that was and will always be me is a vaguely persistent feeling. As far back as I can remember, it would cause discomfort whenever I tried to be someone I wasn’t cut out to be. I didn’t choose these bits and pieces of myself, and I wasn’t always fully aware that they even existed. But my earliest memories are often attached to the feelings that being “me” produced.
Cults are often harsher versions of the civilian world.
There’s an abundance of rules with little opportunity for free thought, creativity, exploration, and individuality. The main task is to conform without question to the will of the cult leader. Some people are drawn to this way of life. They long to be part of a tight-knit group of harshly controlled followers. They get really excited when introduced to a charismatic person who claims to have all the answers to life’s problems.
Whether it’s political or religious leaders, many people need a hero.
These fully grown adults willingly sign their lives over to their chosen one. They put him in power over their lives, and he can say or do no wrong. I don’t understand the psychology behind these bizarre decisions. Why would anyone choose oppression over freedom? All I know is that I didn’t get to choose. Unlike the grown-ups who became cult converts, I was raised in it.
I was very disadvantaged.
I had to figure it all out on my own without any role models. Thankfully, I eventually realized that cult life was completely incompatible with my authentic self. I was forced to live in discomfort and pain for the bulk of my childhood. Trust me, I tried to be what they wanted me to be, but in the end, the me that was meant to be couldn’t do it. I would have died a slow, internal death. So I left.
Thus began the second part of my journey, sorting through the crap that the civilian world insisted I do.
All cultures restrict individuality to a greater or lesser degree. Being different isn’t tolerated and definitely not celebrated. New ideas and change are resisted. If you want to belong, you must dress the same, live in identical houses, enjoy the same pastimes, value the same things, and strive to conform. Most people don’t even know they have choices. Cultural expectations are more effective than laws at getting people to behave. They honestly believe, without question, that there’s only one way to do things.
If you dare to do things differently or even question the status quo, you risk being ostracized.
Who will be your friend, marry you, love you, or hire you for a job? Every culturally created myth modeled as truth by our parents, teachers, ministers, and politicians should be accepted without question, even if it makes you feel uncomfortable, even if it ruins your life.
Having lived outside the “norm” as a child, I already knew that I could be different and survive.
As a member of the cult, I dressed differently than the civilian world and did not partake in the rewards of civilian culture. I was not only comfortable looking like an oddball wherever I went, but I was also well-versed in self-sacrifice and self-denial. The cult took great pride in being separated from the outside world.
I knew I could survive being different.
Soon, I also realized that I really didn’t want to be just like my new civilian “friends.” Their lives seemed shallow compared to the way I was raised. And although I had few role models, I was still able to compare and contrast my former lifestyle with that of the outside world. Slowly but surely, I decided to honor the real me that was meant to be. I couldn’t just conform in order to belong.
I had to figure out who I was meant to be and follow my inner compass.
Eventually, I became more and more comfortable with myself. It was an evolutionary process. Each new realization produced the next step forward in self-discovery. Many decades later, I’m still discovering things about myself. I’m now 74, and I’m happy to report the progress I’ve made since I left home, decades ago, as a confused but determined girl.
This is the me that I’ve grown to love and protect.
I’m an atheist, which makes some of my religious friends uncomfortable. I’m not a patriot, which makes even some of my atheist friends uncomfortable. I don’t believe in soul mates, “the one,” or romantic love, which makes just about everyone uncomfortable. I think too many people have babies for the wrong reasons and then mess up their own kids. I get really angry at those who justify hitting children. I’m a pacifist, which confuses peace lovers who carry guns and tends to infuriate religious people who think God is on our side. I’m an outspoken woman — a fact that annoys some people. I think marriage has not proven to be highly successful and that more people would be better off living alone but enjoying the company of a friend with benefits.
There’s more …
I’m not very materialistic, which stuns those who love stuff. I live debt-free with the lowest overhead possible, which bewilders those who are addicted to consumerism. I’m an introvert who enjoys small, intimate gatherings and one-on-one deep conversations, which amazes my outgoing extrovert friends. I travel so light that I would qualify for a prize in the over-70-hippie-backpacker competition, much to the disbelief of my shoe-loving friends.
I’m a pragmatist, so I never strive to get everything I desire but look for ways to get roughly 80% of what I want — much to the disappointment of my idealistic friends. I don’t see life as a gift but as an accident, where I wasn’t given a playbook or a map and must use my wits to get by — much to the concern of my friends who believe there is a reason for everything that happens.
It’s all about the journey.
I believe girls should be raised to be financially independent so they’ll never be forced to live with a man just for money. I value my independence and autonomy because I see myself as a sovereign being, not an extension of someone else’s dreams. I get bored with small talk. I don’t enjoy club memberships.
I hate cruelty of any kind, whether it’s directed toward animals or humans. I lose sleep over this one. That’s because I’m an empath, which means that I feel the pain of others as though it’s happening to me. There is so much cruelty in the world that I often feel physically ill and psychologically tortured.
Self care is so important …
I need to write, paint, make music, listen to music, and express myself creatively. Without these outlets, I would dry up and disappear into a state of hopelessness. Creativity is an antidote to the cruelty of the human species.
Curiosity is an added benefit …
I love new ideas and new experiences. That is what defines personal freedom for me. The diversity of this world is life itself. There is an absolute abundance of diversity, but it often goes unnoticed because we’re focused on being the same, on making each day just like the day before. With that cultural push for conformity, we lose a thousand possible solutions to problems. We end up with a limited gene pool, where everyone in the village is the same — a boring shade of gray with no contrasting colors, and life itself declines.
To this day, I have never been a card-carrying member of any club.
I left the cult behind at the tender age of 18 and forced my way into a world that would only accept me at a great cost. I looked at what was considered normal and decided to do it differently. It hasn’t been a perfect journey, but it has been a learning experience.
I am grateful for the opportunities I’ve had to try something new whenever I please.
With what’s left of my life, I intend to stay true to myself. That’s not easy, even at this stage of the game. Outside influences can rob us, even trick us into giving our freedom away. We must stay vigilant and in tune with our inner selves. No matter what they tell you, our brains thrive on new thoughts, new ideas, delving below the surface, and a wide variety of experiences. I don’t want to be part of a cult. I don’t want to conform just to belong to a group that will inevitably insist that I be just like everyone else in order to garner a few insignificant privileges. My inner compass is there to guide me. I will honor it above all else.
That’s where truth resides.
Teresa is an author and professional myth buster. You can find her books on Amazon.
