Before leaving the cult, what worried me the most was the thought of ruining my “perfect” family. My parents had bought a townhouse in New Windsor that we were renting out. It was a nice house and the three of us—Thomas, my daughter, and I—were supposed to be happy in it.
I was the only one who wasn’t happy. I’d bear the responsibility for ruining my salvation, but I didn’t want my daughter to suffer when her family broke apart. I felt like I should get over my feelings and accept my role so we could have the perfect life we were supposed to have. But it was impossible for me to do so. Eventually, my desire to leave overrode my guilt and sense of duty.
I gave my daughter a big hug on the day that I left. I wasn’t planning to bring her with me because I still believed that everything the church taught was true and thought she would be better off staying with her dad so he could continue to take her.
I packed a few of my belongings into the car and drove to my mom’s house while my kid was at daycare and Thomas was at work.
I left in March 2020, right when the COVID-19 pandemic was getting serious and establishments were shutting down. The WMSCOG also closed its doors, instructing members to hold services at home using online video sermons.
So it was easy for me to phase out my participation without attracting attention. At first, I kept a few services from home, reporting my attendance to my group leader. After one week, my parents drove to a midpoint between Maryland and New York to pick up my daughter.
A couple weeks in, I stopped observing services altogether.
My group leader checked on me a few more times to see if I was keeping services, but when I started ghosting her, she stopped checking on me. Despite being “true family,” no one except Thomas reached out to me in an effort to have me come back or reevaluate my choice to leave. To me, the silence was a confirmation that I had made the right decision.
Almost immediately after leaving, I started cursing when I was alone. I cut my hair shorter, dressed in androgynous clothing, and dropped wearing makeup like a hot potato. I started training for a marathon to occupy my body and mind and give myself a reason to get up. But still, I struggled to find meaning in my newfound freedom.
Shortly before I left, I wrote this song. I was at a Starbucks where I often went to escape my home and church life, sitting in my car in the parking lot.
I was depressed and sick, having lost my voice, and it was a struggle to make any sound at all, let alone sing on key. Although it’s far from the best performance, I feel like the low quality conveys how I felt at the time.
Lyrics:
Lay on the floor today and cried
Didn’t know what to do, and I was tired
Home alone again
Hunger in my veins
Didn’t have to fake a smile on my face
And I say odd’s life, odd’s life
Don’t know how I got to this place
Clinging to the fragments of what I call my own space
Though they try to take it all away
Take it away, take it away
And I say odd’s life, odd’s life
Sometimes I’ll admit that I feel
like running away from it all
But there can be no rebellion without the thought
of how the pieces will fall
And the price to pay is much too tall
And I say odd’s life, odd’s life