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#ex southern baptist
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Being homeschooled as a way to prevent any contact with the outside world was a wild trip. Not a fun trip. No, it was abusive, alienating, extremely lonely, and with absolutely no escape possible. I couldn't find refuge in friends, because I had none. I couldn't get help from a counselor, because there were none. I absolutely could not tell a mandated reporter what I was going through, because there were none. I couldn't get help from child services, because I didn't know they existed. I couldn't get help from anyone. No one came and saved me. No one.
You controlled everything about me. My clothes, my hair, my relationships, where I went and how long I was there. You made one ultimate and stupid assumption, and it will haunt you later. You could control who I was with, the environments around me, etc...
You made a big mistake in thinking you could truly control my thoughts. You made a big mistake in allowing me internet access at 13. You made a big mistake in allowing me to go to community college. I thank you for these.
I dreamed of my life without you. I dreamed of my life: without you.
THE ENTIRE TIME.
You'll be left behind. I won't look back. I won't help you. I won't save you. I won't talk to you. I won't be near you. I won't answer you.
You're lucky I have three siblings who care about you in the way you want them to.
Good luck.
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lillithsbitch · 1 year
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Open discussion: has anyone dealt with perfectionism that most likely came from years of religious trauma?
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powerlineprincess · 1 year
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Jesus Camp 2006 screenshots.
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transhomicidal · 5 months
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reverse mission trip I rejoin the baptist church to show them they can be a freaky faggot
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no-nightingalez · 3 months
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What’s stopping me from blaming all my problems on God, huh? Who says I can’t chalk everything up to the narrative being doomed from the start?? Why do my sins rest upon my shoulders and not the one who supposedly planned it all???
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eviqur · 2 months
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golden age
please lord, make me the biggest star in the whole wide world !
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alethianightsong · 4 months
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If my body is a temple to God...
then God's that rich a-hole with a billion private homes who refuses to let anyone stay in them. He also gets mad when the people who maintain these houses decide to do some superficial decorating cuz it's fun. "Who put liquor in my house?" "But God, you weren't even here, and I didn't even get drunk, just buzzed." "I don't care, I'm punishing you once this temple decays."
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kingethera · 10 months
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Teacher: Would you rather have an ice cream cone or a bible?
PreSchooler: I’d rather have money.
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lucifergender · 10 months
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I was baptized at the age of eight because I wanted a pizza party
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soapskneebrace · 1 year
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your soap religion HCs are so real to me like you hit the nail on the head so well about everything and as someone who grew up in an incredibly religiously abusive household (starts with M and ends with ormon, yipee!!) it’s almost comforting to see characters with the same kinda issues I have lol. And that part about him swearing directly as rebellion against his upbringing, mm. Finger lickin good my guy, S tier head cannon in my book
Just to be transparent, I wasn’t really theorizing that Soap had religious trauma in that last ask—I was referring to my own when I brought it up lol. I tell you what though, I do like the idea! Fuels my angsty Soap thoughts, ones having to do with his increasing isolation from his friends and family from before his service. There’d be less and less he could relate to with them. It’s a really big loss of community, when you leave a church.
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Abandoned by god? No. By wolves in sheep's clothing? Definitely.
Can't be abandoned by something that never had you. It's follower's bastardization of the supposed divine? Oh, yeah. That sonofabitch will get ya, ravage you to death, and then abandon you. It'll leave without even the satisfaction of decimating a good meal, for you were never their prize. Only the assimilation of you into their rigid mold. There is no alternative option on your part in their eyes. Oh, the delightful realization in their eyes when they choose for you their only alternative.
You're just a chew toy in reward for following their master's commands.
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heartshapedcaskett · 1 year
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Do you ever get to the lowest point in your life that you debate going back to church? I’ve been agnostic since age 16; yet it’s not God or rather Christianity that I’m pining for. It’s community and the performance of Sunday mornings. I miss the life I envisioned for myself as a child in the pews. I miss the nativity scenes we re-enacted in plays. I miss weeping amongst the congregation. I was publicly allowed to fall to my knees and scream as loud as I could. A type of vulnerability I can never truly experience again. Perhaps I am pining for God. That little girl inside of me is still asking, begging, pleading for Jesus to save her.
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powerlineprincess · 1 year
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Jesus Camp 2006 screenshots.
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requiemofazillenial · 5 months
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Family
Today, I had to make the very difficult decision to not go see my family and friends back in Arizona. And for so, SO many reasons I am sad about it.
*I am so sad because I miss hugging and laughing with my family
*I am so sad because my family refuses to acknowledge my name or my gender
*I am so sad that even just the thought of being in my parents home makes me incredibly anxious and panic
*I am so sad that I don't even want to spend one night in the house filled with crosses and Bible verses
*I am so sad that I don't get to see my friends that I miss so dearly
*I am so sad that the thought of being in Phoenix sends me into panic
*I am so sad that not even my little sister seeks to know who I truly am
*I am so sad that my mom can't even send me a text without the mention of her god
*I am so sad that I have to hide
BUT I am happy that living in Portland makes me happy and that I have plenty of people in my life who actually know me and want to. <3<3<3
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tinogiehd · 8 months
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do you have a complicated relationship to religion? was reading your fics - just wondering
😕
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haystackpancake · 1 year
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Remembering Baptism.
Papillae of the room are satiated by the salty clicks of my neighbors keyboard. But still the setting growls. Growls, barks, guttural and horny, like the jeering face I remembered this morning. My soul projects as heat, excitation wards off the stillness all around me. Such a messy stillness. Stillness in his pharynx, demanding intake of air. The stillness of constant motion, stillness found, way deep down, in the bottom of a well. I'm feeling well myself, as we are all guilty of from time to time. You probably think we always are well, some space in need of filling, that substance is the soul, that humanity is the water bottle I wrestled for with vending machine (and lost). It's tempting, I know. 100% recycled bottle. Purified water. Minerals added to taste. Reminds me, the lord said season our speech with grace, though here taste refers to the word fuck. But anyway, I can't drink the water without compromised kiss of air. I told you once (not you of course) that glass half empty is just the same, that air counts too, it just takes more. I once sat there while you told me there's nothing magic about the water. Its municipal, shitty fish pee river fed crap, that locally owned Calloway Lake Superior, poured out for my soul. No. You didn't say that. That makes no sense. You said it was all display, performance, the real magic, faith, holy thing was inside me all along. Maybe he was...still is. But, convenience begets belief, and I'd rather not think about it.
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