Can Cult Survivors Save the World?
A Simple Roadmap to Global Recovery
Sometimes I find myself saying outlandish things. It feels good to blurt these days, after spending eighteen years under the tutelage of a controlling leader where I learned not to trust anything I said unless I was parroting his doctrine. (And I mean this literally – I was taught to censor every word that came out of my mouth.) Today, blurting sometimes gets me into trouble and creates situations where I feel compelled to circle back and clarify what I meant. This essay arises from one such jabber.
“When enough cult survivors share their story, we will change the world!” I said, filled with conviction, at a meeting of collaborators for #igotout.org. I realized this was a culty thing to say, but then again, was it? Cult leaders gain traction through grandiose statements – they know exactly how to stir emotions to nudge people to sign up for whatever they are selling, be it saving the world, rescuing starving children or protecting ourselves from the evils of …fill in the blank. Hyperbole, grandiosity and over simplification are three standbys in the cult leader’s tool box. All three exist – at least through suggestion –in my statement quoted above.
How the heck can I make such a proclamation when my profession is in cult recovery and education? By all accounts it appears that I am using cultic techniques to influence people and I have to ask myself: what’s really going on here? What is the difference between manipulation for selfish gains and authentic inspiration? And how do we know which is which?
I invite you to stay with me, if you will, for a short spin around my brain and heart. And please challenge me, after reading this, if you find fault. Help me to hold my feet to the fire of integrity – because if I blow this, I want – no, I need, to know.
When I first got out of the cultic group I had been devoted to for 18 years, I was flooded – and I mean flooded – by emotions of relief, profound shame, grief and anger (for starters). It’s hard to convey the enormity of this change in my psyche. And I was lucky – very lucky, because my husband had left the same group two years before me and he is a man of immense compassion and clarity. He witnessed my storms, kept me safe and provided me shelter as my psyche re-organized. I found a good therapist and spent untold hours talking to friends who had stood by, waiting for me to emerge from this 18-year odyssey. It was hard, hard work, but today, seven and a half years later, I live a rich and fulfilling life, free, for the most part, from the tyranny of cultic abuse.
But many people who leave destructive groups are far less privileged and have far fewer resources than I. Based on the many stories shared through #igotout and my work with writers and clients, there is no doubt in my mind: many people emerge from controlling groups with little to no support, bereft or resourceless. No matter how we get out, we enter a society that holds little understanding of the complex psychological abuse we endured. Despite any tsunamis of emotion that may want to be expressed, most of us are silenced by the societal shame of having screwed up. In the United States and elsewhere, the motto “pick yourself up by your bootstraps” kicks in and we stuff a hurricane of feelings and move on. Sometimes for decades.
Energy cannot be created or destroyed, Albert Einstein’s oft repeated quote, it can only be transformed from one form to another. Energy can also be dammed up – like when debris gets caught on sticks in a stream, holding back the water’s course until something triggers its release. What happens, I wonder, with the surge of feelings when an individual wakes up from being hoodwinked by a charismatic leader when society considers such involvement a taboo worse than death? Does all this energy linger in deep waters behind a dam of damnation?
When the #metoo movement rose like an enormous hand freeing a flood of stories long held back by shame and fear of backlash, things changed. Unseen violations and injustice came out into the light of day and nefarious sexual abusers were and continue to be put in their place. Workplace policies are now enforced where previously a blind eye was modus operandi.
It has been unsafe for many cult survivors to speak up, so we lick our wounds in private, shamed into silence while a mighty dam in the river of cults forms, holding back our voices, holding back our creativity, our passions, possibility for justice – and worst of all, it can perpetuate the structures that kept us quiet in the first place.
When I started telling my story, creating what Dr Dan Siegel calls “a coherent narrative”, my healing process started in earnest. It did not take long for me to realize that in fact, people were thirsty for my story – they responded with interest, compassion and stories of their own. In the six months since #igotout stories started being shared on the internet, I have witnessed an outpouring of compassion, validation and education – and have seen first-hand how truth-telling builds bridges between islands, reducing isolation, fear and despair. I am convinced there is an immense untapped resource of energy lying dormant behind the dam of irrational, harmful stigma. I believe that when a cult survivor shares their story, the structure of that barricade weakens, each trickle of truth inspires those who hear it and pokes holes in the dam, liberating wise voices of those who have lived through coercive abuse first hand.
Individually, we have the eyes to see and ears to hear when power-over abuse is manifesting in the world around us today – a capacity not to be taken for granted. Especially today. Together, we can identify and call out cultic injustice. At what point will enough stories break the dam? What happens then? What if we storytellers become the voice for the cult survivors who truly cannot speak: those whose lives, careers, or children could be put in danger, those who are unable to articulate, and those who have not lived to share their story? What if we advocate for the millions who are trying to escape or are still enraptured by a controlling false narrative? What if our stories can educate our loved ones who were baffled by our past choices and also inspire the strangers who care to listen?
At a time in human history when the spectrum of influence easily bends to manipulate people to adopt irrational and dangerous conspiracies, our millions of stories may be a helpful, if not necessary antidote. Truth-telling creates a new level of freedom for cult survivors and humanity at large while algorithms provide a roadmap when the hashtag #igotout is paired with personal stories and shared on social media. In this way, we can engage the internet for the good it was built for, creating a flood of tweets and posts, washing away the stigma that tried to keep us quiet. For those who have not personally experienced cultic abuse, talk to your friends and I guarantee you, stories will emerge – so encourage these stories to be shared in the same way.
I trust the creative act of storytelling about being dehumanized by archaic controlling techniques because I’ve witnessed how it activates personal change for the good. Perhaps it is personal transformation that truly fuels global change. In order to change the world, we have to do our own work first. And we have to be willing to listen to each other and stretch a hand across the table when there are no words, just feelings.
So, how do we know the difference between cultic coercion and grandiose statements like mine above? What is it within us that needs to be active and alert in order to sort the wheat from the chaff and the chaff from the toxic?
In all sincerity, I look forward to hearing your thoughts on this topic. Please share your tools of discernment, your observations and your questions. And even more so, if you have a personal story of cultic abuse, I hope you will share it.
The fine print: #igotout.org encourages everyone who wants to share their story to consider if there are potential negative consequences. Is there potential harm to yourself, your loved ones and/or your career? If so, do you have the emotional stability and social and financial support to handle any backlash that might come from sharing your statement? Would you be best served by sharing anonymously? Exploring the empowerment page of #igotout.org is advised before publicly sharing about your cultic involvement.
