And We'll Teach You How To Hate, Hate, Hate, Hate, Hate...

      If I ask you what the most common teaching and principles of Christian churches are based upon, many of you would probably list "Love one another" or "God is love" as some top answers. These are things I often heard growing up in church, and my mother probably has countless Sunday School craft projects of mine proclaiming these statements still in her basement (Mom, please feel free to toss those, I no longer need an empty toilet paper roll glued to tissue paper to tell me how to love). As I look back, I realize that I heard these statements over and over again, but this is not what I was taught. I learned that I should love the other members of the cult, whether ATI or my parents' church. It didn't matter if these members were guilty of crimes from car theft to child molestation, if they said that they had repented, that was good enough, and they should be welcomed into our homes.
     I can remember at least two men (a low number, but still above zero) who were close friends with my parents who would visit our home often. There was something about these men I didn't like, and while they never hurt me, I did not trust them. I would be told to be polite and give them hugs to greet them and bid them adieu, but I hated to do so. When I was a slightly older child, one of the men went to prison and was convicted of child molestation. This man continually testified how much he loved and wanted to serve God, so, regardless of his sex offender status, he was still a trusted friend of the family. We would write letters to him each week and he would write back. This went on for years, but I stopped writing to him after his trial and medical proof of guilt. Recently he sent my mother a letter actually confessing to the molestation, yet because he "loves God", it's ok.
The other man had become an active part of my parents' cult and he was recently investigated by the FBI for selling child pornography. He is also now in prison, but emotionally supported by my father and the cult because he is a "devout Christian". Those are just the two who were most often in my life and in my house. I can go on and on about all of the other criminals I know who are openly mentally ill and violent, (They need a great deal of help, but the cult does not encourage them to seek such help from a secular source, such as a Dr) but welcomed around 200+ church members and their children. But why shouldn't they be? We are told to love one another, and they claim to believe the same as the cult.

       Bill Gothard, the founder of ATI would send updates to ATI families each month. In his update from April 1997 he writes "Being an exhorter, I tend to overlook the negative and concentrate on the positive. This approach to life gives me continual energy and encouragement. In recent weeks, however, two events have stunned me sufficiently to realize that conditions in our country are far more desperate than I had realized...(The first event is about non-married heterosexual couples living in sin) The second incident also occurred in Chicago. The city council voted to extend medical insurance and other benefits to the live-in partners of sodomite city employees despite the outcry of many community groups. This horrendous decision was announced on the radio the next day along with ridicule for those who opposed it and a closing blasphemous statement: 'God was not available for comment.' The fact is that He has already given comment in both Scripture and history. Whenever a civilization accepts sodomy as a way of life, severe judgements follow." Didn't God also say to love one another?

        In 2005 when hurricane Katrina struck I was 17 and very, very involved in the cult's activities, and wanted nothing more than to be part of the team of young people who would go into ministry services through ATI. That was the only world I knew, and I wanted to be a big part of it. I trusted almost anything that I heard from the preacher or leaders. There were so many chances to donate to the people of New Orleans but I didn't give anything because I had been taught that Katrina was God's way of cleansing out the "horrendous" sin in their city and if I gave to them, I was only working against God's will and encouraging them to live in sodomy and practice their ungodly ways. Looking back, I can see how terrible of a person I was to think that over 2,000 people deserved to die and so many others lost all they had. I was brainwashed into being an asshole. Several years later I went to New Orleans with some friends. Many areas were still marked with signs of devastation. The people I met there were wonderful and  friendly. I felt so guilty for ever believing that these lovely people should be punished as a modern day Sodom and Gomorrah.

        You may have noticed from my other posts that the cult strongly believes that women are inferior to men. In another update from Sept. 1997, Bill Gothard introduced CharacterLink, an internet filter to block sinful websites at home and work. He decided ATI needed their own internet filter because "the world's" were still sinful. He writes: "We discovered that present systems try to block out bad sites, but with an estimated two hundred or more pornographic sites being added every day, this approach is ineffective. We further discovered that one of the most widely used protection services has, on its board of advisors, representatives from militant sodomite groups and NOW (National Organization of Women)."
 I looked up NOW and I see why ATI didn't want anything to do with them. From the NOW website: "The National Organization for Women Foundation (“NOW Foundation”) is a 501(c) (3) organization devoted to achieving full equality for women through education and litigation.
The Foundation focuses on a broad range of women’s rights issues, including economic justice, pay equity, racial discrimination, women’s health and body image, women with disabilities, reproductive rights and justice, family law, marriage and family formation rights of same-sex couples, representation of women in the media, and global feminist issues." Yes, it would be terrible to associate with a program who fights for the equal rights for women and would assist in any type of service that would allow a women to make a choice about her own fertility instead of letting God tell her husband that they need to have as many children as possible. Why on earth are we leaving these choices in the hands of emotional women who shouldn't even have jobs in the first place?! Professor Harold Hill would have no issue starting a boys' band at an ATI conference.

      The concept of loving one another is clearly not shown when a leader uses such hateful language towards those who are transgender or homosexual. But raping  children or your sisters gives you no label. Maybe if they got to click around on the internet a bit the incest wouldn't be as prevalent. There is an ATI song we all learned, "The Ten Unchangeables". One unchangeable was if you were a boy or girl. I later learned that you can change that, with the right amount of medical treatment. We were taught that people who are trans are much more blasphemous than homosexuals because those who were trans were rejecting the way that God made them. But they aren't. That IS who they are!  I was actually surprised when I got older and found out that there are a high percentage of homosexuals and transgender who actually go to church and are far better Christians than the ones I knew.

       I have recently become very close with a woman who was born a man. I have never met her in person, but we "met" and talk thanks to mutual family and friends. I "knew" her as a man at first, but we never really talked until she told everyone that she was going to become a woman. Now I talk to her almost every day and I am fascinated by her transition and her journey. 10 years ago I would have probably ignored and just prayed for her, which makes me sad and ashamed that I was ever like that. I was taught that I should hate what she is doing and who she is. I can't tell you how happy I am that I no longer think that way and I have the privilege of being a part of her life. She is such an amazing person. She is hilarious and we are able to compare stories of breaking away from who we were once told we should be. We compare outfits and tales of dating nightmares. I love her, she has become like a sister to me and I am excited to have her as a huge part of my girls' lives. She has been a huge support to me in overcoming the lies and hatred I was taught, and now I can't imagine my life without her.

        If I followed the teaching of the cult, I should forgive and trust my father for the physical and emotional harm he has inflicted on my family and me. He is active in church and reads the Bible every day. I should have no problem trusting someone who has an abusive nature, as long as they proclaim their love for God, and let him see my girls anytime, yet I am to keep the girls far from anyone who would partake in any act of "sodomy" (I am not a fan of that word, but I'm quoting)  among consenting adults that has no bearing on my life whatsoever.. I'm sure the cult will strongly disagree with my choice to limit the girls' time with their grandfather yet encourage their time with a girl who was not always such. Just because someone is different than you are doesn't mean they are wrong. It doesn't mean we should shut them out of our lives and rejoice when disaster befalls them. That is not love, that is a cult of malicious hatred.
       

A New Perspective

    It has been quite a bit since I have been blogging. I have missed it, and I must provide a few updates in order for this post to make sense. Life took some very interesting turns. As it turns out, when I wrote "We can't all have a full quiver" I was 5 weeks pregnant...with twins! This gave Dreamy Eyes and I the shock of our lives. So much for "Hooray NuvaRing". You may also have noticed that I have a new name. As many of you were assuming would happen, I am also now Mrs Dreamy Eyes. There, you should be just about caught up.

     A few days ago Dreamy Eyes showed me a video that he thought was just stupid, but from my perspective it was very, very real. Here is a link for you so you may follow along.
Terrifying, not funny video

       If you watch this from his perspective, you see a father of a newborn girl who is freaked that she will grow up to be hot. We are having identical girls, so he found this more amusing. As an X-ATIer this video provoked dozens of terrifying thoughts. If you watch this as an ATI girl you see all the things that the daughter is doing wrong. She is obviously wearing too short of a skirt, her shirt is much too small, and she is dressed to defraud and tempt men. She is doing nothing to bring attention to her countenance. It is not the fault of the brother or father at all that they find her attractive, and if either of them were to take action on their thoughts, it would be completely her fault for defrauding them. She is disobedient to her father when he says not to hug him. She has no business being a cheerleader and defrauding other men. Who knows why she even owns a bikini when everyone knows that she should be wearing a one piece, covered in a dark t-shirt and gym shorts. She tells her father that a body is nothing to be ashamed of, which means that she has not been reading her Bible. If she was, she would know that Adam and Eve had to cover their nakedness because they were ashamed. Her father and brother should have prayed about their feelings of lust towards her. According to Dreamy Eyes, the girl does nothing wrong. Her father should be helpful to her with her rash by getting some cream or considering her allergies. The idea that the father would be attracted to his daughter is preposterous to him, let alone the entire thing is imagined at her birth.
 
      He realized as soon as I watched it that I was about to start on a roller coaster of issues. Never once have I been worried that Dreamy Eyes would ever harm our girls or be less than the most caring, protective father that ever lived. However, some things are just drilled into my brain. Seeing as this vision of the hot daughter came to the father at her birth, I asked if Dreamy Eyes would be uncomfortable seeing the girls naked. He found this question ridiculous, but this is a very real concern for someone with my past. I asked if he would be comfortable bathing them and sometimes applying diaper cream, because he would actually need to touch them in sensitive areas. Some ATI fathers and brothers don't change daughters and sisters so that they avoid temptation, especially during the post partum recovery period when the wife can't fulfill her duties of pleasing her husband. Again, to be clear, I have no worries about him as a father, these are all just real issues from my cultish past.

     ATI girls must always be aware of how they are dressed, even at home. It baffled me that my worldly friends could lounge in sports bras or tank tops, when I wasn't even allowed to have bare feet. I have mentioned before that I hate being tickled. My father never bathed me, but I would always dread my walk from the bathroom to my room (I'm not sure why I never just brought my clothes with me) because he would always catch me, take away my towel and tickle me and pinch me while I was naked. I'm not sure how old I was when this stopped, but I remember it very well. I made it no secret that I hated it. Also, being wet, freezing, terrified, and tickled would sometimes make me pee, but then I would be spanked for knowing better. Being spanked naked definitely didn't spark any additional daddy issues of paranoia and flashbacks in my adult life...
Dreamy Eyes and I both agree that we want our girls to be comfortable in their bodies, and the very thought of a father doing that to a child outrages him.

      I have mentioned in my post about still being single that I don't like anyone else to be home when I need to be in the bathroom for more than 14 seconds. A few weeks ago I was sitting on the couch and I noticed that Dreamy Eyes walked up to the bathroom door a few times, then turned back. I asked why and then he said he had thought I was in there. I told him "That's silly. I would never try to use the bathroom when you are home!" He got stuck on the word "try" and asked what I meant. I didn't want to talk about it, but I told him how I used to be forbidden to go to the bathroom at night after I was put to bed, and the few times I did use the bathroom when my father was home I would be admonished for taking too long and told that if any man ever knew that a girl could smell like that, that I would never be loved or get married. This is why I've had GI bleeds and hemorrhoids since I was 12, and most times I "tried" were not successful. Add on pregnancy, and you end up on a schedule of about every 2 weeks with "threats" of disimpaction from your OB. About a year ago I started going to therapy. When things like this come up, it gets written on "The list of things to tell Andrea". So I mentioned this to her, even though I thought it was a non-issue since Dreamy Eyes is at work about 80 hours a week. Andrea likes to give me assignments to get over my issues. I do not like these as much. This was the week of Thanksgiving and I was planning on going to my parents' for dinner. My assignment was to attempt to use the bathroom there. Worst assignment yet. I would have rather tackled my fear of bats. I tried, but after about a minute I could hear my family (Mostly my very loud grandmother) asking each other "Where is Heather?" "Is she in the bathroom?" "She is never in there this long" "Maybe we should check on her" "Why is she still in there?" "Heather, what are you doing?". I couldn't handle it. Most of the time I spent trying to stop crying and even then I just pretended I took extra long because I was putting on more stretch mark cream. My father hardly spoke to me that day, but even now, I didn't want to hear about it.
Dreamy Eyes and I had a few more chats about future potty training, and while neither of us find bathroom humor funny, we don't want our girls to end up screwed up like I am and possibly very sick. Fathers can do so much more damage than they realize.

      Back to the terrible video, which gave me a non-zero number of nightmares, I had more concerns to address. What types of clothes would Dreamy Eyes forbid, not because you don't want your daughter to look trashy when she goes out, but so that he wouldn't be attracted to the girls. Again, he found this question ridiculous, but from my perspective it was completely valid. He said that if he found an outfit that his daughter wore to be attractive, that was his issue and not hers. This was not my life, nor the life of so many of my friends. As I have mentioned, I was "lucky" not to have a brother, because this spared me from incestuous rape. This was clearly the direction the video would have taken for any normal ATI family. It's only a matter of time before that brother takes his sister and she is blamed for it. I didn't have a brother, but I have a monster of a father. I think everyone has something that they like, bedroom-wise. Liking something does not mean you cannot control it. My father likes feet. I was never allowed to paint my toenails. No anklets. No toe rings. Absolutely no sandals, flip flops, nor open-toed shoes. No high heels. No boots other than snow boots. Socks were to be worn at all times, but could be removed for bed. I know that a bunch of people are into feet (I regretfully googled it), but I feel like one should be able to separate a fetish from projecting it onto your daughter. How little control must one have that they must make their child constantly wear socks in order not to be tempted or aroused? If I pushed the boundaries, he would become very angry at me instead of dealing with his lack of self control.

     I remember once we were staying at a hotel with family friends and one daughter was just dangling her feet into the water when were were all at the pool. When it was time to head back to the rooms, my father stayed back because apparently he enjoyed the foot dangling too much to get right out of the water. I knew what was happening and I was pissed. Of course this was my friend's fault and not his. Nothing is ever the fault of a man in ATI. It is always the girl who should have been more aware of how she was tempting him. If the brother in that video had raped his sister, it would have been her fault for owning a bikini.

     To "normal" people, the video is probably just funny or stupid. I am sure that a majority of my ATI friends will have a similar perspective as I do. It's a whole different view that we all need to overcome before we end up damaging our own kids. Dreamy Eyes wrote a lot of things on my Andrea list after showing me that video.

   

Don't stop! Beliiiiiiiiievin!

Note: I apparently wrote this after I was given an Ambien in the hospital. I woke up this morning with texts telling me to check my blog. I still think I will leave it though.


They say that. They tell you all the time in your little proverbial tower homeschool world that you should never doubt nor question what they tell you. Know what that gets you? Gets you nowhere. That much I'll tell you right now. Right now, ma'am. Gets you to the point where you have to stay in a hotel room with a nice quilt on the wall  and you wake up thinking you're back at the training center and you've got to get to the bread and jelly before the evil doers come and make you stay off the third floor, you brass polishing whore. WORTHLESS in the eyes of The Lord are thee!  Makes you say things like "my husband bought a science book! Maybe he will let me read it!" So close. So close. Buy your own books because you don't need a man's permission to learn!!!!!
They say you have to do everything just their way or you won't be happy. Well guess what Mr Goatheard, high on your hill, I'M HAPPY! And with every passing hour I'm so glad I left my tower! I know I left a life behind but I'm too relieved to grieve!
That damn blue fairy is back. I know it's her. I want to go investigate, like those classy reptiles, but the Debbi nurse keeps halting my plans. I'm pretty sure she is a wizard. She gave me a magical dream potion and was angry when she came in before and I was awake. I advised her that my handsome prince will still wake me with a kiss at dawn, but the fairytales never factored in how many times a princess has to wake up to pee every night. I think the Debbi wizard put the blue fairy in the drawer with the shadows, but I shall find her. It has been a markedly more challenging quest from my bed, but I shall prevail! The debbi said I was clearly not a tv person. I said NO debbi. I have a phone with good tv. Not the shit tv pawn stars you people expect me to watch here, sir! I will not be distracted by her wizardly tricks. I have to sleep with my socks on. I hate that. I usually keep them warm on the legs of the man with eyes so dreamy but not this eve. I forgot to pack more socks, but it's ok. This is a nice hospital, they have socks here.
The Debbi Wizard brought me ice for midgets, which is ok to say because I haven't to my knowledge angered a midget. But this palace seems to lack spoons. It's ok. I made a tongue bowl. Because that's what we do. We can either curl up in a ball and die like we thought Cindy did that time, or we can stand up and say we're the strong ones and you can't break us! I ate that midget ice, I did. Overcame that wizardly battle right quick.
Oh! Should you ever have the need, and you have a panda who is chilly, bring them here. They have things for that.
ATI is all "carbonated beverages are bad for you, sir". Yeah? Are they? ARE THEY WORSE FOR YOU THAN LOCKING UP YOUR KIDS WITH CHILDMOLESTERS? (Bee tea dubs, found out there were a few more from the local cult about whom I WAS RIGHT but nobody ever listens to me) but I digress. Ok. But sometimes when you can't eat for days and that is where your happiness flows and your Dreamy eyes brings you a pillow case full of root cellar beer and cheezits, you drink that like it was poured from Heaven. But bring the can nearer to your lips because from Heaven it may splatter a bit and I don't want to deal with how the Debbi feels about things being sticky. That much I'll tell you right now! She isn't a bad wizard. She just has secrets. I didn't die from her potion of dreams, and she was able to keep away any of my usual nightmares. Dreamy eyes even arranged for them to get me a bed that rocks which means BEST DAY EVER! You have to make sure you hold the rails though or it could go poorly. He also remembered to have me pack my thesaurus because they have dictionaries here. Mama Harvey and Bups didn't get to meet the Debbi Wizard, but they also scored some Root cellar beer from at least the ozone layer. That shit was pretty delicious.
Do you know what's terrifying?! The possibility that my daughters may think that princesses are stupid. I mean, I'll explain that not all the stories should have gone as they did. I don't know what Belle's problem was. Man, she is like my mother. "Oh, I don't have to marry that dude in my town so I guess I'll marry the one who freakin screams at me all the time and is kind of nice when he wants something, and that will be ok, because at least I'll be married" FALSE! Married doesn't make a princess happy. Married is a potential bonus but happily ever after is what you have to make for your damn self and if it involves a dreamy eyed prince who kisses your gorgeous dehydrated lips in the morning, bareing banana pancakes and songs you over your texts because he can't be next to you, then that is all a bonus! Just because any peasant on the street can call you Cinderella doesn't mean you are. You think I figured that out from believing those ATI lies? LIES I say! No. I stopped believing all non-vaccinating, anti thought through parenthood, science is fake and clouds are miracles, you are only pretty with long hair, always wear underwear lies,  and it's great. Never in ATI were there any wizards to fix my dreams. Blue fairy secret keepers or not, sometimes you've just gotta trust a bitch. Sometimes your pumpkin turns into a snail who wears shoes and your carpet driver is a Shells pants and not a genie or a dog. I'm good with that. Even is her party/rock and roll scheduling leave zero time for rest. She'll do what's best. Sometimes you try your hardest but people still hate you. It's ok. Miss Swift knows that haters gonna hate, and someday she will find love too. Or she won't, and that's gonna be alright.

The Demon of Depression

     I'm pretty sure that most of us have suffered some form of  depression at one time or another. Some much more severe than others. Some of my friends, and I'm sure yours as well have even tragically lost their battle. In ATI I was raised to believe that depression was a demon sent from the Devil himself. I am not exaggerating. We were all taught that depression was not a real thing and that the only people who suffered from it were those who were not following God's will for their lives and were allowing the Devil to take over their hearts.

      ATI never refers to depression as a disease, nor do they ever encourage their followers to seek professional help for psychiatric problems. PTSD, Post-partum depression (which was HUGE in a cult full of women who popped out babies constantly), suicidal thoughts or attempts, anxiety, all of it was from the pit of Hell and sometimes instead of getting help, we were punished instead. If anyone admitted that they had thought of suicide, they would either be turned over to the church, or sent to a "training center" until they gave their brain back to God. I don't think I have a single ATI friend who will tell me that they didn't struggle with depression, if not at least one serious incident of thoughts of suicide. We all grew up learning that murder was sin (I still kept that belief). Suicide however was a very fine line for us. On one hand, it was a murder which deserved Hell. On the other hand, if we were "saved" and already forgiven of all sin, perhaps  we were still covered and could still make our way into Heaven and no longer be stuck in the Hell on earth of molestations, beatings, shame, brainwashing, legalism, social isolation, and poor education which was ATI.

      For most of my childhood I accepted this as truth, that depression was a sin. I have taught lessons on this topic several times. Our Wisdom Booklets (the curriculum put out by ATI) did not teach that depression could be caused by a hormonal imbalance, but that one major cause came from sleeping too much, instead of recognizing that excessive sleep was a symptom, not a cause. The Wisdom Booklets recommend that one way to cure depression is to wake a subject often, not allowing them to fall into the R.E.M phase of the sleep cycle. While some therapists use this method, it is done in a very controlled environment,  by highly trained professionals, and for very short periods of time. Depriving a person from their natural sleep cycle, especially habitually for long periods of time is a technique often used for brainwashing. My father does this to my mother quite often. I don't think she has actually slept in years. ATI recommends also having the person listen to recordings of either scripture or sermons during times when they are allowed to sleep, in order for the ground that has been turned over to Satan to be reclaimed by God. If you spend any time searching the internet for similar methods, you will find this is also how many cults convert and keep people, and how terrorists are trained. I find it odd that people still ask me why I say that ATI is a cult. This method has been used on some of my friends who have been sent to the ATI "training centers" in attempts to break them of their "rebellious spirit".   Thankfully, for the most part, it has failed.

     This has probably been the most difficult post for me to write. I kept these thoughts a secret for years. I didn't want to be sent away. But lately I've been seeing so many of my friends struggle and after reconnecting with so many ATI friends who have also broken free, I realize that I was one of the majority, not one of the few. I told my mother I was writing this before I published it, so don't worry that any of this will surprise her. She also wanted me to note that I am not blaming her for any of this.

      A few days before I turned seven, my mother went into the hospital to have my sister. (We weren't in ATI yet then and didn't know about all the home birth stuff). I was staying with my Grandmother and my cousin, who was living there while attending college. I adore my sister more than anyone in the world, however, the weeks leading up to her birth were terrible for me (Yes, our mother was in labor for a week and all that, but this is not her blog). We didn't have cell phones then and I didn't get to talk to my mother very much. My grandmother didn't let my other set of grandparents or my "aunts" take me out and do things to distract me because this was her time with me. My cousin read "James and the giant peach" with me and I still hate that book. I knew my mother almost died when she had me, and James' parents dying in the book did not help with that. My mother was in the hospital for about a week and all I knew was that she was very sick. I was convinced that she, and my sister were going to die and that I would be left with my father. I also knew that my father would not be able to homeschool me so I would have to be sent to school. At six years old, that is a terrifying thought if all you had known was being with your mother 24/7, and that school was for bad kids. I knew that one of the teenagers at our church had killed himself by sitting in the car in the garage, and everyone at his funeral talked about him being in Heaven. If I killed myself, I wouldn't have to spend my life alone with my father, and I could go to Heaven, where my mother and sister would probably meet up with me in a few days.

      I made my bed and said goodbye to all of my stuffed animals and imaginary friends. I got the keys to my grandma's car and went out to the garage, got in the car, and sobbed while I waited for what seemed like forever to die. I went to sleep, figuring that I needed to be asleep to die. I knew verses such as "Many among you are weak and sick, and many sleep", and I knew that this meant they died, so it made sense to me. I woke up and that hadn't worked. It was January and I was getting cold, so eventually I just went back inside and just sat by myself in my Lamb Chop tent and read Mother Goose. Nobody came to look for me, and I'm not even sure that anyone noticed that I was crying for the rest of the night. A few days later my sister was born and my mother lived and got to come home. I didn't tell anyone what I had tried to do because I knew I would be in trouble, and probably upset my mom. Thankfully, no one at the boy's funeral had mentioned to me that the car needed to be running.

     I was fine for several years after that. My sister became my entire reason for living, and she is still the most important person in my life. I'm so glad that I didn't know to turn on the car.  I did pretty well until I turned 12 or so. I would get super emotional after the joyous festival which is puberty arrived, and the days before my period became a nightmare for me. I would cry all the time and my mother gave me these nasty vitamins to stabilize my mood, but they didn't help. I remember sitting on the floor in the kitchen looking at the oatmeal in the cabinet and thinking "What's the point? This is good for me, but who cares? We're just going to die anyway, why bother to eat this?" As soon as my period would come, I would feel better. None of my friends (who were actually allowed to talk about periods) understood this. They hated their periods, and I just wanted mine to start so I would be happy again. The ATI friends told me that this was normal and that since having a period was part of God's punishment to all womankind via Eve, PMS was a reminder that Satan wants to take over our lives, so this was just something I would need to learn to accept. At least that's what they said out loud because they had to. I felt no one actually understood though. I wasn't just cranky, weepy, and sore. I felt like I literally had to survive my own self for 3-4 days each month. It was more of a passive thought, where I didn't want to hurt myself, but if I happened to die, it would have been welcomed because I had no desire to live. This went on for years and I kept it to myself because I didn't want to be in trouble for wanting to waste a life or be sent away, or sent to my room to read the book of James (but with no peaches), which is what my father made me do whenever he wasn't sure what to do with me. I read a lot of Psalms though because there is a lot of lamenting taking place in there, David knew what was up.

     I went to many funerals as a kid. I am saddened by death, but I have always been oddly comfortable with it. I was always taught that Heaven was way better than here, so I should be happy for those who got to go there. I have never been afraid to die. I no longer want to, but it does not frighten me. I remember sitting in the bedroom with my grandfather's body the morning he died. I was sad, but not uncomfortable. I feel like this is part of what helps me do my job now.

     As most ATI girls do, I got married in my early 20's. I couldn't understand why I wasn't happy. All through the engagement, each few days before my period would be worse and worse. I couldn't figure out why I was so miserable, since on paper, everything was great. By this time I was a medic and was very used to dealing with "psychs". I would get so upset when people would dismiss those who complained of suicidal thoughts. I always thought that the only difference between me and the person on the stretcher was that they told someone how they felt. I was afraid that if I said something that I would be "just a psych" too and no one would take me seriously anymore. I still had the deep rooted thoughts that medicine wasn't for depression and all these people were just on placebos, like I had been taught all my life. After I was married for a bit the depression got worse. I don't blame anyone for this, it's just a thing that happened. As I've written, I've had several miscarriages. Although I didn't have a baby, my body didn't know that and I went full-on post-partum. I had been taught my entire life that God made me to have babies, and on top of that, I have wanted to be a mom more than anything pretty much since I can remember. If my babies kept dying, why shouldn't I? I still didn't tell anyone.

     One weekend I was sick with a fever and I was home alone. I still wasn't "actively" wanting to hurt myself, but death would have been welcomed. I took my cold medicine, and then couldn't remember when I needed to take more. I decided to take a bit more, along with several Tylenol PM because I was so sick of having nightmares and I just wanted my brain to shut off for at least a little while. If I didn't wake up, that was fine. I didn't care. I didn't have my babies, what did it matter? In the morning when my ex got home from work, he woke me up. I was very groggy and felt terrible physically. He asked what was wrong with me and I said what I had taken. He told me that was dumb and that he has to deal with patients like that at work all night, he didn't want to deal with it at home. So I spent the next day or so very aware of where my liver is and became even more quiet about how I felt. Until one day...

     I had put together a team for the March of Dimes and spent the day surrounded by babies. After the walk, a bunch of us were at a party where I completely broke down and lost it. Dreamy Eyes and Michelle found me hiding and spent the next several hours listening to me, and finally giving me the response I needed. Dreamy Eyes is a big fan of the blog Hyperbole and a Half and there are two wonderfully accurate chapters on depression. He remembered reading them and didn't tell me I was crazy, didn't tell me I was wrong, just said "That sounds stressful" and made sure that I went to see the doctors that I needed to see for years.

    I told my OB that I thought I had PMDD. He told me that only 3% of women actually have that, most just have severe PMS, and to keep a journal. I've been doing that since I was 7. I brought them to show him and he said he didn't think he would actually meet a patient who had it, but he did. He gave me some anti-depressants to take during those 3-4 days. It took a few tries to get the correct medication, but finally, I felt better. Poor Dreamy Eyes. If you rescue a damsel in distress, all you get is a distressed damsel, and he did. But if not for him and Michelle, who are the only ones who knew the extent of what was happening, I wouldn't be here today. I finally agreed to go to a counselor and a doc who could help me with all of this brainwashing and loss. My counselor is often in disbelief of how many TLC shows I could have at any given time. I was very afraid to tell a professional that I had these thoughts because I wanted them to know it was more of a failure to thrive than anything else. But I didn't get sent away. They told me that they were surprised that I lasted as long as I did without help.

     I wish I had been allowed to see these doctors years ago. When I was a teenager and I was in the hospital, they recommend that I see a counselor, but my father forbade it. That was the case with so many of my friends growing up in ATI. None of us ever told anyone how we felt, but I know of several who tried to hurt themselves at least once and never got the help they needed. I attempted to do some research for suicide rates among homeschoolers, but there is very little data. Public schools have numbers and records of kids who have had either an attempt or a completed suicide, but it is almost impossible to collect that information from a culture that stays hidden from the world. Some ATI parents had it happening right in front of them and they had no idea. Girls would try to starve to death but would say they were fasting for prayer. That was a common attempt. If you had a food allergy, you could make it look like an accident. Car crashes were an easy one, but that was harder for my Amish friends. I found several stories of "suspicious deaths" of homeschooled kids, but most fit the methods I just named. You couldn't make it look like it was on purpose or else they would know you sinned, and if you lived, that would be worse.

     It makes me so upset when I hear about people still in the cult who are made to feel that they are sinning or that they have a demon because they can't be joyful just by going to church more or by getting less sleep or by listening to Scripture constantly. You wouldn't treat cancer that way, and depression shouldn't be treated that way either. No, not everyone needs medicine, but some people do, and I am so happy that for the last year or so, I have been able to feel better than I thought I would ever feel. It's not a euphoric feeling, it's not something mystical. I just feel normal. I've learned how to think differently and get rid of a lot of the guilt and oppression that was driven into my brain for so many years. Even just going to a counselor can feel like a sin. I've learned that my happiness is not reliant on other's actions. I have people I love much more than myself, but I cannot base my reason for living on them. That isn't fair to them, nor to me. People shouldn't have to be afraid to say "Hey, I'm not ok". I learned that if there are people who respond negatively when you say you need help, you don't need those people in your life.

      To all my friends who escaped not only the cult, but who also survived their attempts, whether thoughts or actions, and finally got the help they needed, I am so proud of you and I love you. Just like any disease, it may flare up again, but that doesn't mean it has to win. You are far from alone.

   

      

 

We Can't All Have A Full Quiver

     As I'm sure you have guessed, ATI is really big on people having big families. If you have had a surgery to prevent having more children, ATI wants you to have this reversed before you are accepted. At the conferences each year they have what is called "The Reversal Choir" which is made up of children who were born after their parents had their surgeries reversed. It's a group of  "Lost Pearls" as ATI refers to them (Nowhere near as much fun as the Lost Boys) who never would have existed if God didn't change their parents' mind about letting God decide the size of their family. Psalm 127:3-5 is often referenced, "Lo, children are an heritage of the LORD: and the fruit of he womb is his reward. As arrows are in the hand of a mighty man; so are children of the youth. Happy is the man that hath his quiver full of them:..." I was going through the Wisdom Booklets (ATI's "school" books) lately and found a great deal of writing on this passage. ATI takes the Bible very literally and notes that the husband is seen as successful and strong if he has a small army at home. However, if there is not a small army at home, this is the fault of the wife. "The fruit of the womb is his (God's) reward." So the lack of a fertile womb is clearly a punishment for a sin committed by the wife. I have found no mention of the woman being seen as stronger for having her quiver full of arrows.

At least Disney gets it. 

     I have one sister. In ATI this was unheard of. I was often asked why my parents were going against ATI's teachings and not having more children. I am not sure if my parents used anything to avoid pregnancy, I just assumed they didn't like each other that much. We lived in a one bedroom apartment until I was 16. "Letting God decide the size of our family" would, in my opinion, have been very irresponsible. It was hard enough to make ends meet with 2 kids. If God decided the size of our family, that size would be "malnourished". My mother is not good at being pregnant. She was very close to death when having me. She was on bed rest for 6 months when she was pregnant with my sister. When I was a teenager my mother got very sick and had to have emergency surgery because my little brother was a really rude, stealthy little embryo who no one knew existed until my mother almost died from bleeding out during a miscarriage. There may only be two of us, but Hope and I are all the arrows our parents could handle. Besides, We like to be able to spread out in our quiver. 

This is when we decided to wear non-ATI approved skirts for Thanksgiving

     Many of the families in ATI have children who are severely disabled. Obviously terminating a pregnancy is a sin punishable by death, according to Mr Gothard. Many families are struggling to provide for the rest of their children because one child needs all the resources available. Now, I give all the credit in the world to parents and siblings who have a child in their family with disabilities. I cannot begin to understand the daily struggles and worries they experience, and many of the kids I have met who have grown up with a disabled sibling turn out to be some of the most responsible, caring people I have ever met. However, a few weeks into the pregnancy if it is discovered that something is not right, I feel that further action should be the choice of the parents, not of the cult. ATI is not going to raise your child, or pay your bills. 

    Several times throughout the Wisdom Booklets I have found examples of  women who are plagued with physical or mental illness because of "guilt" about having ended a pregnancy, or who have been unable to conceive due to past sin in their lives. These "case studies" have all been done by men and have not included factors such as nutrition, sleep, fitness, family history, abuse, or medication. Of course these women were not on medications for their mental illness, because mental problems are caused by the Devil, and couldn't possibly be from a hormonal imbalance. One case was about a woman who was deathly afraid to leave her house and ATI clearly traced this back to the time when, as a teenager, she secretly ended a pregnancy. The Wisdom Book claims that once she confessed her sin to God and got her heart right with Him again that she was miraculously cured of her agoraphobia. 

    The thing that infuriates me the most about this is that they use the word "guilt". Yes, perhaps this woman had feelings of guilt, but that word is used over and over in their writings when guilt is not indicated by the woman. There are many, many feelings associated with pregnancy, or the lack thereof. Infertility is devastating enough without being told that it is your fault. I have had 6 pregnancies, and I have no arrows. I miscarried 5 of those. Without being told that I was sinning, I had what I feel were natural pangs of guilt. Did I skip a prenatal vitamin? Did I lift something too heavy? Should I not have gone to work? Could I have done anything to prevent one of my patients from punching me in the stomach?  No. After a few weeks I settled down and realized that none of this was anything that I could have done or prevented. My doctor said I probably wouldn't have even known about some of them if I hadn't tested so early (some were only 4-5 weeks along) and I would have had a missed miscarriage, which happens way more often than you would think seeing as the bleeding from the early miscarriage is often just mistaken for a slightly late, but heavy period. I always tested early though because each time, I knew instantly. I am not one of those pretty, glowing pregnant women. I've never had to wait until I was late to know that I should test. I start vomiting the instant that swimmer breaks his way past the barrier. I smell everything. I pee constantly. If my gums start bleeding, I call my OB, not my dentist. I become absolutely exhausted. I have even been able to tell which ovary was the releasing one for that pregnancy (confirmed by my doctor). I told you, my body is a wonderland.  

    I handled the miscarriages "okay". I stopped getting excited when I saw that second blue line after I peed on a stick. I never told many people, or even started to look at baby stuff, because it got to the point where I was never surprised when I would start to bleed and feel like my insides were tearing. I went to the ER one of the times, and they didn't even do an exam. I got some fluids and was sent on my way. After that I just started handling them on my own. Drink lots of fluids to combat the blood loss, take some Advil for the tearing, and cry a little. I didn't even call out of work for the last 3.

      Pregnancy number 6 is what got me. I had started to feel some of the usual symptoms, but I had just miscarried a month before, so I figured I just still didn't feel great. I didn't test as early and didn't find out until week 6, when the baby was about the size of a lentil. This became my sister's name for the baby, Lentil. The only reason I even decided to test was to convince my brain that I truly did just have a new found taste for mayonnaise covered Butterfingers and that nothing else could possibly be happening. I was wrong.

Yep, the first thing I did was go get nachos. 

    I went for my ultrasound and Lentil was too small to be seen from the external ultrasound, so they had to do an internal one.  They said that based on my last period, Lentil was much smaller than he should be, but not to worry yet because it was possible that I just ovulated later than they would have expected. They scheduled me for another ultrasound in two weeks to see if it really was just a matter of late ovulation. I went home disappointed but not surprised. I tried not to worry, but that was nearly impossible. Some of my girlfriends have told me that sometimes they would forget that they were pregnant because nothing bothered them. Not me. I was reminded almost constantly. I had every symptom possible. I even hated the smell of water. After a very long two weeks it was time for the follow-up ultrasound. They were still not able to see Lentil on the external ultrasound, so they had to do another internal ultrasound. Before we saw Lentil on the screen I knew the news would be bad because by now he should have been big enough for the external one. There is a song called "The Piano Is Not Firewood Yet" and a line in that songs goes "the heart beats in threes, just like a waltz..." that got stuck in my head as we sat there and heard Lentil's heartbeat for the first time. We were now three heartbeats, but one was much, much slower than it should have been. They told me I would probably miscarry soon.

     Being pregnant is unpleasant as it is. I imagine that it is made slightly better by knowing that at the end of it all you will get a tiny little squishy (my word for babies. I got it from Finding Nemo). One night at work I had brought a man into the ER who was quite high. Before I could give report, I fainted. My patient was kind enough to help get me up and sit me on a stretcher. He then kept yelling "Hey! Medic lady! Are you pregnant? I know that's it! Medic lady! I told them you was gonna fall out but they didn't let me get you a chair! I got you, Medic lady!" He was sweet but I wanted him to stop giving my coworkers the idea of pregnancy. Most people don't announce a pregnancy for a while anyway. I had no desire to share my news only to follow it with the information that I was only waiting for the pregnancy to end any day.

     I went to the doctor a few weeks later and the pregnancy still hadn't been lost. Lentil was still so small that we couldn't see him on the external ultrasound. I was never able to find out officially if Lentil was a girl or boy, so I decided boy. I had also chosen a unisex name in case I was wrong, but I didn't get that far, and I don't like "it", so he's a boy because who is anyone to tell me otherwise?  If by some chance Lentil made it to birth, he would have been severely disabled, mentally and physically, and even making it to birth was a huge "IF". The bigger he got (he was growing, but just very slowly), the more difficult it would be to either deliver a stillborn, or have surgery to end the pregnancy after several more weeks of torture and heading down the path of possible sepsis. If I was an ATI follower, there would be nothing to think about. The plan would be to do all I could to bring a child into the world who had very little hope for a future, even if that meant huge risks to my health. That was not something I could do to my child.

      After many nights of tears, I made the Dr recommended (yes, with second opinion) choice to have the surgery to end the pregnancy. My Dr did not perform these surgeries, which is one of the reasons I went to him in the first place. He referred me to planned parenthood for the D&C. Never in my life would I have imagined I would find myself in that waiting room. I had one final ultrasound, which at 3 months still needed to be internal. I had been so upset until that point, until we saw that ultrasound photo. Lentil was so small and his heartbeat was so slow. It was surprising I had made it to 3 months. That was when I felt this was absolutely the right thing for us to do.  I had to go in for the surgery and prep alone because they don't want women feeling pressured by the fathers to do anything they don't want to do, which is perfectly understandable. So I went in for the surgery and he waited in the waiting room, holding the final picture.

Lentil's birthday is May 14th, and he is named Francis. 

      The surgery was fairly quick, and the staff was amazingly supportive and attentive. Anesthesia would have cost me $1000 out of pocket, so I opted for a localized pain killer. It didn't hurt any more than a spontaneous miscarriage, but there was a great deal more tearing this time. The sudden tearing feeling of Francis being separated from me is not one I will forget. If I could go back in time and change only one thing about my life, it would be to have spent that $1000.  My recovery went fairly well, mostly because I have an amazing support system of people who, no matter what their stance on the issue, told me that they agreed that I made the best choice for the three of us. 

     For anyone who has ever known me for longer than 40 seconds, you know that all I want is my own squishy. However, I want my squishy when the timing is best, and I want only what is best for my squishy. I did not desire to try to hold onto the hope of carrying Francis full term when that would not have been best for him. Another very meaningful line from a song has become "Love is watching someone die". At first this may seem morbid, but it is very, very true for us. Love is doing what is best for that person, even if it isn't the way you wanted things to happen. Guilt was never an emotion that I felt during this process. Sadness, helplessness, anger, but mostly love. Not guilt. 

     Since the surgery, my body has still not returned to normal and neither has my subconscious. When I was pregnant, I couldn't stand eggs, mint, or peanut butter. Now I have had to work very hard not to cry over being able to eat those things again. I am frequently nauseated because my body is a wonderland, and the first thing anyone ever asks is if I am pregnant. I understand that this is the most common response to a vomiting 27 year old woman, but I have become pretty good (depending on the day) at not breaking down in tears over an innocent question. The worst part is that I still have recurring dreams about the surgery. My most common dream is where I am holding a snow globe and tiny Francis is inside of it, but no matter what I do, I can't wake him up, and then suddenly, the snow globe shatters in my hands. That is only one among several, but I have that one most often. I am most comfortable sleeping on my stomach, and I have been known to wake up in a panic that I am crushing my squishy. In all of my dreams, I am still pregnant, but I also still have a broken ankle. My subconscious is not great at updating its files. Seeing a counselor has helped a great deal, as well as friends who understand and never offer me mints or peanut butter cups.  I went to the Dr for my follow up visits, and it seems that the surgery left me with some scarring. It now seems that the chance of getting pregnant is near impossible. If by some chance any little swimmers are actually able to get past the "initial tunnel", the chance of implantation is remarkably small (hence even IVF would be futile). That being said, I am not looking to try to have a squishy in the very near future, so even with the small, small chance of anything happening, hooray nuvaring! When I am ready again, I can always adopt, or I can borrow someone else's oven for my bun. 

A few months after all of this, I got this tattoo. "Even miracles take a little time" is one of my favorite Cinderella quotes, because eventually, in some way, I will have my squishy. In the scroll work you can see Francis' initials. 

(This photo was taken right after I got it done, hence the redness.)

     I adore all of the squishies  I get to borrow and snuggle. I love the twins I watch as if they were my own. I will barter almost anything for babysitting, and if there is a squishy at an event, I am going to find it and give it a whole bunch of love. I am grateful that I have understanding friends who know that I only want one person to tell me "Happy Mothers' Day", because no matter what, I was a mom, but I want to be ignored by everyone else. I have very sweet coworkers who know that I need to sob after doing a call for a 14 week home delivery, or that I get more angry than others who deal with squishy abuse cases while trying so hard not wonder why things are so unfair. I utterly despise anyone who, after learning of 6 lost pregnancies, asks "Did you try to figure out why that happens? Do you think it was stress? Did you ask a doctor? There has to be a reason that keeps happening". Those people end up regretting their words almost instantly.  I adore my friends who know what it's like to scroll through a facebook feed full of your friend's kids while you are still posting pictures of your latest night out, or who know that that bump you have is from too much pizza, and not from an adorable reason to loosen your pants. I love my best friend who will automatically squeeze my hand if we are watching TV and anything pregnancy or squishy related comes on. 

     Of all of the reasons I am thrilled to be free from ATI and the cult, this has been the one with the most impact for me. I am so glad that I don't have to hear that this all happened as a punishment for something I had done. I am not forced to feel guilty for committing no wrong. I love that I don't have to do things the way that ATI would want me to, and if in several years I decide that men are still terrible, I have options for making a squishy without a husband if I need to do so. (Yay, science!)  I may have a quiver of invisible arrows, and I may need to find a different way to acquire future arrows, but that doesn't make your quiver any more blessed than mine. 

      

      

Raise That Bar, Gorgeous!

    People tell me often that they are so proud of me for escaping the cult of ATI. Indeed, I have come so far from where I used to be, but I am still not completely free. Escaping a cult is much more than crawling out of my proverbial bunker into the sunlight. Part of me is still trapped in the way of thinking that immersed me for so many years. My sister and my mother are still very much in the cult at their church. I am constantly worried that my sister will end up marrying a guy from the cult and she will be subservient as our mother is and she will never reach her true potential. It is easier to worry about my sister than it is to worry about myself. I don't always see it right away, but I still subconsciously expect guys to treat me terribly.

     Over the last year or so I have been seeing just what is out there for options of guys, and the more I date, the more I realize that finding a prince is going to take kissing a lot more frogs!

      I was chatting with my mother today about how terribly stupid guys are and how they don't even realize when they are being rude. She told me that I am not the easiest person in the world to date either and if I don't stop being so critical, I am going to end up alone. I wonder, is that such a bad thing? 

       It was much easier to date when I was fresh out of the cult and naive, and before I met Dreamy Eyes. Dreamy Eyes spoiled all men for me forever by helping me to see that it's okay to say "no" to a guy and to tell them what I don't like. It's okay to expect respect and to leave a date if I don't feel like I am being treated as I want to be treated. I have a Tinder account, which is mostly just for entertainment because I love arguing with guys who are terrible and I will be posting some of those conversations for fun little side articles to show just how awful it is out there. Of the dozens of matches, I felt like a select few were not terrible, and I agreed to dinner. If I had gone on these dates fresh out of the cult, I would probably be married again by now. If all I wanted was a "good Christian man" who wanted to have a bunch of babies I'd be all set. In the cult you are taught not to argue with a man and that men are basically allowed to do whatever they want once you are in a relationship and that they are to be obeyed. 

     One of my first boyfriends had anger issues. I honestly started dating him because he asked me out and I didn't want to be rude. So I told my mother it would probably only last 2 weeks. It lasted 4 years. Once in a while when we would fight he would hold a knife to my stomach or my throat and I would have to remain very still. Sometimes he would press it harder and harder against my skin to test how much I trusted him. Each time this happened, he would apologize profusely the next day and promise that it would never happen again. I never asked for pity because I knew I was the one making the choice to trust him and give him yet another chance. Bill Gothard teaches that once you have slept with someone, you need to get married to make it right in God's eyes. So, I planned on marrying him, hoping that he would eventually not want to kill me. The benefit of having knives held to my neck was that I became very good at dealing with psychiatric patients and "talking them down" in hectic situations. I finally left for good one day and didn't look back. 

     I thought I was independent and strong when I got married. My ex-husband never hurt me, and I am not even sure that he knew this, but I don't like to mess around when I first wake up. I have very vivid dreams and sometimes I am not actually all the way awake when I start my day and I need a few minutes to adjust to reality. I often feel very vulnerable and embarrassed by being touched at all when I first wake up, depending on the dream I have just had, but I never said anything because a woman should never deny her husband something he wanted. I'm sure if I said I wanted some time he wouldn't have cared, but it never even crossed my mind to bring up the fact that I felt awkward. This was just what being married should be. It takes a lot of bleach to undo brain washing. 

     Since then I  have been learning more and more about what boundaries I have and lines that I will not allow to be crossed. Some guys find my boundaries odd and too picky, which at first made me think I should just get over it. No! I should only date a guy who is respectful of my comfort level. I was never allowed to be barefoot when I was young. I couldn't wear open toed shoes or paint my toenails. I wore socks to bed. My friends were also required to wear socks when visiting my house. It wasn't until I was older and came upon an unfortunate google search history on the family computer that I realized why my father didn't allow bare feet. It infuriates me that I was punished because as a girl, it is my fault that I caused a man to be tempted and not that my father would have to deal with controlling a fetish. If I happen to fall asleep wearing my socks, I have been told that I will rip them off and throw them across the room. If a guy so much as touches my feet, I get really nauseated. 

      I understand that tickling is a common flirtatious act and that spanking is a common action with couples in playful or passionate situations, but both will make me either cry or want to break your arm. When I was little and used to get out of the bath and be standing in my towel, my father would tickle me. I hated this because I was naked and if I dropped my towel I would have nothing there to protect myself. I was recently on a date and the guy simply forgot that I didn't like tickling. I instantly placed a death grip on his wrists and he said the look in my eyes was terrifying. I don't intend at all to be mean, but the instinct to protect myself has grown very strong. I got spanked a lot as a kid also. I get that parents spank, but I never found it as anything other than pure punishment. We had a variety of wooden spoons that were used for spanking. One was long and thin which made a very sharp sting. Another was round and flat and covered more area. If I had committed a terrible offense my father would call home from work every few hours to make sure that my mother spanked me some more. My mother was merciful though and found a pillow that was thick and sounded like muscle when hit (my father would insist on hearing the spanking happen) and I got good at wailing at the right moment so that it appeared my sentence had been served. Sometimes my father would hit when I had done nothing wrong but instead of apologize, he would tell me that I had probably done something wrong and not been punished for it, so I still deserved the punishment. Guys still think it's okay to push the issue though. Their calls no longer get answered. 

      When I got divorced I set myself up at Dreamy Eyes apartment and lived on his couch until I felt better.  (Don't tell him I feel better!) Since then he has spoiled me. If I stay over between work shifts, he will have my bed all set up with a top sheet (I have been really good about where I squeeze the toothpaste), the pillow cases with the openings facing out because I don't like those near my face, an extra pillow for snuggling, a heating pad already heated if it is winter, and my phone charger plugged into the nearest outlet. He thinks this is standard nice behavior. I think it is beyond what would be expected. I would be happy with a blanket on the couch. I mentioned that I like cucumbers in my water, and now there are bags of sliced cucumber in the fridge. I kept forgetting to grab a hairbrush, and one day this appeared on my shelf:

     Each time I go on a date and tell Dreamy Eyes about it, he gets increasingly frustrated that guys are terrible. I have lamented that I will end up needing to lower my expectations and each time I do, I hear a very encouraging and supportive "Raise that bar, Gorgeous!" 

     I have been working on raising that bar, but sometimes the bar gets heavy and exhausting. Do you know how hard it is to find a guy who isn't amused by his own farts? Why is it too much to ask for them to treat wait staff like people? Why must they get offended if I get annoyed when my level of comfort and safety is approaching its limits? I was out hiking on one date and it got dark. I had my phone with me but he had nothing. I used my phone for a flashlight and I wanted to keep my map page open so we could have the best route back to the car. We sat for a bit and seeing as I had tight pants, my phone wouldn't fit in my pocket, so I put it in my bra. My date was irritated that I put my phone there because he wanted to explore. I was not even a little bit interested in that and was happy with where I had placed my phone. He offered to put my phone in his pocket and got very offended when I refused. At this point I was ready to go home. I don't think he was a bad guy nor do I think he was trying to take my phone away on purpose, but it bothered me that he didn't respect that he was crossing my level of feeling safe. A few years ago I'm sure I would have politely handed over the phone. Now I am bold enough to insist on what I need to do to remain in my comfort zone. 

     I wish there was some way to decline a future date without being made to feel like the villain. It would be easier if guys would just accept "Thanks for dinner, it was lovely to meet you, but no thank you". They don't. They always ask why. Why if I want to date did I not want to date them? Why did I decide so much after one date instead of giving them more chances? I am not into wasting my time and then having it be worse by wasting their time also after 6 of 7 dates. Why if they insist on hearing my reasons for declining do they then get offended by the fact that I noticed bothersome flaws? 

After being spoiled by Dreamy Eyes I now find it unacceptable that if while driving I say "Hey look, Taco Bell is still open!" that they don't understand that this means "Get me a mommy fudging quesadilla".  I no longer feel like I need a prince to rescue me, because, as Dreamy Eyes says "If you rescue a damsel in distress, all you have is a distressed damsel".  I do however like to be doted upon and treated like a girly girl. None of the guys I've dated have bought me flowers. That is of course not a deal breaker, but flowers make me smile. Dreamy Eyes has gotten me several beautiful bouquets for no reason other than he says that he likes making me happy. Flowers make me REALLY happy.

      The other day I could not find my giant glass of cucumber water. I thought that Dreamy Eyes had thrown it away because I had done something annoying. I sighed and said "Well, I guess I deserved that" and he spent several minutes telling me that not only did he not throw out my drink, but that I would not have deserved it if he had. Another time we were having pasta and as I went to have some of his I dropped a noodle on the floor. He picked it up and ate it. I was shocked that HE ate it and didn't make me eat it, since I was the one who dropped and wasted it. It is just instinctual for me to think that if I have been remotely wrong, I deserve to be belittled and punished. I KNOW that I don't, and after a few moments I get back to reality, but it is buried deep into my brain that I am worthless and should find it normal to be treated poorly by men. I am so grateful that Dreamy Eyes has helped me to see that men shouldn't be terrible, although I still believe I am forever spoiled. There is a line from one of my favorite movies that goes "My father's house was a nightmare. Your house was a dream. Now I want something in between." 

     I am not at all where ATI would think I should be by now. I am 27, single, and have seen none of my children born. I work 4 jobs and I am working on higher education. I am not in a foreign country as a missionary. I am not under the authority of a man. As I was getting ready for work today I realized that for the first time in my life, I am truly happy. I smile just because I feel like it. I don't want to settle for guys who are less than what I need. I am proud of myself for being able to stand my ground and not give in when guys attempt guilt trips. One of my patients asked me if I was married, and I said "no". The patient told me "Oh, well that's okay". I smiled and told them that yes, it is very much okay, because for the first time in my life I don't feel like I am out to attain a goal that someone else thinks I should have. I am exactly where I should be, and I intend on getting that bar higher and higher as I continue to fight my way out of the cult's very real bondage. 

    

5 Molestations and Counting (as requested by popular demand)

      For the last few years, whenever I would tell someone that I was homeschooled, it was easiest to tell them that I was raised in ATI, the same program that the Duggars use. Most people had heard of the Duggars and their ever growing family. My mother would always joke and say "we knew them when they only had 11!" We met the Duggars at one of our ATI conferences in Knoxville, and they were just as they appear on TV. But that is how all ATI families are trained to be. The Duggars aren't special. Everyone in ATI is taught to give soft spoken answers while "deflecting praise" and bringing honor to God in everything that is said. My mother and I, along with a hefty portion of America, watched the TLC show each week. My mother and I started playing a game where every time a Duggar was being interviewed, we would see how close of an answer we could give to what that Duggar would say. This is a fairly easy game to play if you have been in ATI for more than 8 seconds. You learn the language. I have a post about the language of ATI that I wrote a few months ago. It's all about how you look to the world. When ATI families travel, they should be the best dressed family on an airplane so that people will notice them and if a comment is made, the family can direct attention to God and have a chance to bring glory to Him. ATI trains you to think that you are humble, but really all you are doing is drawing more and more attention to yourself by trying to be better than "the world". 
    
       I, along with many of you, watched as Josh Duggar began his courtship with Anna. This was a fairly standard process for ATI students, but to America, it was strange. They made it known that they had been saving their first kiss for marriage. Jim Bob and Michelle would say in their interviews that they had given in to temptation, and had not brought glory to God with their bodies when they were dating, so they trained their children to pursue courtship. In ATI, dating is not allowed. We were taught that dating leads to divorce because you are allowed to give in to any desires of the flesh you choose. There are no boundaries and no consequences for violating those boundaries (a prom night baby was not viewed as a consequence. All pregnancies are a blessing and although this would bring shame to the high schoolers' families and probably mean that the mother could not go to college, but women shouldn't go to college anyway and this would keep one more woman in the kitchen where she belongs...hence, blessing). 

       Courtship involves very little input on the woman's side. When a young man feels that God is speaking to him about the young lady who should be his "help meet" (aka his downstairs gets tingly when this lady walks by) the young man is then to go to his father and have his father pray about the matter to see if God also tells the father that this young lady should bear his future generations. Once God has cleared this with these two, the young man should go to the father of the young lady. Her father then must pray about the matter and determine if his daughter is prepared for marriage, and if this young man will be the authority figure that she needs. If she is strong willed and has yet to be broken, then either she is not ready for marriage, or the young man will need to have a will that is stronger than hers in order to maintain the proper chain of command in the household at all times, never giving rule over to a woman. The young lady's father may or may not decide to alert his wife to the current prayer closet happenings. This is really an individual choice, depending on how submissive your wife is. If there is a chance that your wife will alert your daughter of the plans for her future, your wife should probably learn her place and be kept in the dark on this for a while longer. After all of this praying about this young lady takes place, her father will go to her and ask her if she would like to pursue a relationship tell her that the 3 men have prayed over her and believe it is God's will that she begin a courtship with said young man. The young lady IS allowed to say no, but she will most likely need to endure some lengthy wisdom searches with her father about why they have differing views on her potential mates. 

       When I was growing up my father would always tell people that when a boy liked me, "the lad" would have to go through a process before he got to me. 1. Order a pizza and have it sent to my father. (who knew that girls on tinder would catch on to my father's courtship strategy) 2. The lad could bring my father the pizza, then leave. 3. The lad could bring my father a pizza, have a slice, but eat his on the porch. 4. The lad could bring a pizza and eat it inside with my father. Then, and only then would the lad be allowed to discuss my future. Sadly for my father, my level of affection for the Domino's guy varies by how tubby I feel that day vs. how badly I want cheesy bread. 

      My father was terribly disappointed when instead of a quiet, submissive daughter, he got a strong willed girl who makes her own choices. I did not follow the ATI laws of courtship. I dated a couple of guys and didn't bring it up to my father. When I was 22 I got engaged. I had not told my father I was seeing this guy until there was a ring on my finger. When I brought my then fiance over to my parents' house, my father did not ask him how much he loved me. He did not ask about goals for our careers. He did not ask how well I would be treated. He asked the lad "Are you going to be able to support Heather and your family on just your income when she finally comes around and makes the right choice to quit her job to stay home and home school your children?" and "Heather is pretty set in her ideas. Are you prepared to be the head of the household and be the proper authority that she needs?" I was livid, but my then fiance gave the correct answers that I could do whatever I wanted and it was not his choice if I worked or not, but mine. He told my father that he was not going to be my authority. This severely disappointed my father, but I was a lost cause and he had another daughter he could try to brainwash.

       Josh and Anna had their courtship in front of America. We watched as they shared their first kiss after a courtship of nothing but purity and side-hugs. Now that it has come out that Josh has molested 5 young girls, including his sisters, my facebook and inbox are filled every day asking what I think about the situation and if I am shocked. Many of you have posted articles on my facebook page that have also brought to light the cult that ATI is. While this is a topic that floods the magazine racks right now, for those of us who grew up in this world, it didn't phase us one bit.

        When you live in a world with such strict and legalistic rules, you learn where the loopholes are. Purity is constantly emphasized and held on a pedestal. Purity is always more of a girl's responsibility than a boy's. In the pamphlet I have for the ATI conference in 1998 it lists the dress code for the "apprenticeship students" (ages 15-18). Ladies should wear modestly fitting blouses with sleeves covering the upper arm. Necklines must be no more than 3 finger-widths from the clavicle. No material may be see-through. Skirts should not be form-fitting and should hang below the knee. Shoes must have closed-toes and heels may be no more than 2". Ladies must dress in a way that would bring attention to their countenance and would not defraud our young men. Young men should wear khaki or navy blue slacks and a collared shirt with a tie. What? aren't we going to mention that some guys look really nice in khakis while they are repelling? We needn't worry about defrauding the ladies since women don't have sex drives? No need to mention that after a long day of prayer and fasting the guys shouldn't loosen their tie by doing that little wiggle move back and forth that might make a lady think about some other uses for that tie? But I digress...

        We were always told that once we lost our purity, the light in our eyes would go out and everyone would instantly be able to tell that we had given in to temptation. Girls losing their purity was always a bigger deal than if a boy lost his. If a girl wasn't a virgin, she would need to pray daily that a good Christian man would find enough of God's grace to accept her as the damaged "chewed up and spit out candy bar" that she was and still be willing to marry her. If a boy was not a virgin, this was still not great, but he would just need to confess his transgression to his father and his future wife, as Josh did, and expect them to understand that clearly he had been defrauded by the girl and this was not something for which he should be held accountable. Forgiveness comes pretty easy to dudes in ATI. 

       ATI couples tend to marry very young for several reasons. One is to maximize the woman's fertile years so that she can produce as many children as possible. Another is so that the men will have an appropriate outlet for their sexual needs. Once married, the man owns the wife. "A servant's mind-set is what God is looking for in marriage. This is clearly explained in Ephesians 5:21-33"-Bill Gothard, HSC report, Sept. 1997.  The man will no longer be distracted from God's plan for his life seeing as he has a women upon whom he can release all of his desires, whether she is on board or not. If she is not on board with his bedroom plans, she needs to get right with her Lord. Many of the ATI kids managed to get into relationships in the teens years, mostly behind our parents' backs. As with many teen relationships, the girl feels pressured to put out or else the boy will stray and find a girl who will. In ATI, putting out is not really an option, so loopholes were found. Many ATI girls lost their anal virginity long before their vaginal virginity, because this would still technically keep them pure. Or the girls would practice kissing each other, because we had only vowed not to kiss boys, and the Bible really only warned against dude sodomy. Josh and Anna were able to stand on their marriage altar in front of a nation and say that they were each having their first kiss. This is the same type of loophole. If marriage vows were sealed with some groping or over-the-panties fondling, Josh would not have been looked so pure. 

        As I wrote about in my post about the training center in Oklahoma, many ATI girls were molested and raped by their brothers. When they would talk about the molestation that occurred in their homes, none of them spoke of being angry at their brothers or thinking that their homes were unsafe places. Each and every one of them blamed themselves and would pray for forgiveness for acting or dressing in a way that defrauded their brother and caused him to give in to temptation. They would pray that one day a man would still be able to love a wretch such as them even tough they were no longer pure for him. I would tell them how horrible this was and try to make them see that this was not their fault, but I was always told that I just didn't understand because I only had a sister. Our ATI photo looks very different from most others. We never had to use a wide angle lens or be shot outside because we didn't fit in a studio. 

       
       Not all of my ATI friends were molested by their brothers, but any number other than zero is unacceptable. I was told that most of the girls saw this as a normal part of puberty for their brothers. Some of my ATI friends may have been spared due to the fact that they are a decade older than their brothers and therefore much less vulnerable. I had always wanted a brother when I was growing up. When I heard of these stories I became very grateful that I only had a sister.

        As with spousal abuse, ATI teaches that one must go through the proper channels of authority once a case of abuse is reported. Bill Gothard writes "I teach that a wife should report abuse to her father and father-in-law. If the husband does not listen to these men, they should take the matter to the church. If the husband refuses to listen to the church, the matter should be brought to the proper government authorities. Before this procedure is followed, however, we emphasize that a wife must have "...a conscience void of offence toward God and toward man" (Acts 25:16)"  So, if the wife (or in the Duggar case, sister) has done anything that could have possibly made her deserving of said abuse, such as wearing a defrauding article of clothing, or uncontrollably growing breasts, this needs not to be brought to the attention of the police because she deserved it. 

         Each article I have read confirms that the Duggars did not stray from Bill Gothard's teachings on how to handle abuse. America appears shocked that Jim Bob and Michelle would cover up such acts, especially when they also occurred with a child who was not from their loins, but honestly, this is exactly what the Duggars and every other ATI family has had taught to them over and over for years. It appears that Josh also confessed his acts to Anna and her father before they were married, and Anna commends Josh for being honest and for humbling himself before God by confessing his sin. I in NO way feel that the way the Duggars handled the matter was appropriate, I am merely not slightly surprised. Many have accused Jim Bob and Michelle of neglect due to having more children than average parents could care for adequately, and I feel that is subjective. However, knowingly allowing your daughters and other girls to stay in the same home and sleeping areas as a teen who has reported sexual molestation is pure child abuse.  

       I know that my post tonight mirrors that of dozens, if not hopefully hundreds of women who, like myself, have overcome and escaped the abusive brainwashing of ATI's cult. I am elated that so many women are getting the courage to speak out about what really happens. Bill Gothard had recently been removed as the leader of ATI after he was charged with molesting dozens of young women himself. The thing that still bothers me though is that I have yet to read an article or post written by an ATI-raised man. What have the guys taken away from all of this? I have a few dear male friends who were raised in ATI who still speak to me. Did they know their friends were molesting their sisters? How did they feel about all of the purity guilt piled upon all of us? I have fought all this time to be a voice for the women, and I will never stop, but for once I want to hear from the guys. Did they feel just as victimized, or did they feel empowered because women were inferior? Were the boys molested also and no one dares mention that? I encourage all of the ATI kids, now adults to keep on writing. Keep on telling our stories and continue to expose this terrible brainwashing that is so well hidden behind seemingly perfect smiles.