I’m still working on the final edits of my book Fly, Fly Away. Every time I pick it up and start working on it I have to relive the memories that came with it.
Why am I writing this book? The answer is two-fold. People ask me all the time what it was like growing up the way that I did. This book goes into detail about life in the cult, how we lived, what we believe, and why we believed, and it shares the trauma to my mind, body, heart and spirit that resulted from it. That’s the surface reason for writing my story. The deeper and bigger purpose for it is to help others work through their own pain story.
We all have a pain story, it’s simply a matter of processing the story and how we use it to empower ourselves and others.
Here is today’s snippet:
As I grew, life become increasingly complicated and more complex, and I became more exposed to the reality of the way things were. I knew that men had the priesthood power to lay their hands on me to heal my sorrows and mend my wounds, but I had not concept of how to resolve how I felt when they hit me, hurt me and touched me. I had always been told that the only place I would be safe from the temptations of Satan was in the company of men with the priesthood. Yet the company of men became the least safe place for me. Men began to take notice of me, no longer in my own home but throughout the community as well. I had been told from a very young age that my body was a private temple, but it became apparent to me that not everyone understood or agreed with what that meant. The laying on of hands that men were endowed with as part of their priesthood rightfulness was intended to be used in performing miracles and bring healing to their families. For me it took on an entirely different meaning altogether.
Unfortunately, men in the community seemed to think that little girl’s were personal property and I was constantly having to protect myself from their wandering hands and eyes, not always successfully. The end result was a my own life over death choice, a choice I made by running away from home.
When I left there was no help to turn to and no resources. I had no choice to figure it out on my own and self-therapy. That self-therapy is now what I teach to others as I help them process their own pain story.
Now there are resources for those who leave and a new one just came into my awareness. This new non-profit organization is the work-of heart of several young women who left polygamist cults like mine and are dedicated to helping others who are finding courage to leave or who have been exiled. Check it out at www.HopeAfterPolygamy.org. I’m so proud of these young women and the work they are doing to make the transition as painless and powerful as possible.
Until next time, be Fearless and Free!
The Polygamist's Daughter 