Growing Kids the Abusive Way: Auriel’s Story, Part Two — Isolation and Ideology

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Trigger warnings: references (sometimes graphic) to emotional, physical, religious, and sexual abuse.

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HA note: The author’s name has been changed to ensure anonymity. “Auriel” is a pseudonym. Auriel blogs at Drying My Wings.

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Also in this series: Part One: Growing Kids the Abusive Way | Part Two: Isolation and Ideology | Part Three: Mini-Parents | Part Four: The Sound of a Sewing Machine | Part Five: The Aftermath of Childhood Abuse

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Part 2: Isolation and Ideology

 At 16 years old, I was not allowed to cross our property line without another human being with me.

Like a caged dog, I paced back and forth, crying at the injustice of it all. The bonds that held me weren’t physical. I was chained by my sheltered life. The isolation came from homeschooling.

Until high school, I only had three close friends outside of my siblings, and I only saw them once a month. Although I was involved with many extra-curricular activities, I was not allowed to be friends with boys, non-homeschoolers, nor kids whose families my parents did not know.

So, no friends.

Pop and rock ave evil beats, movies with kissing or language — let alone violence — will make you copy them, gyms make you compare people’s bodies, TV shows are so sexualized they’re evil, iPods hurt your spiritual life, and so on. At least, that’s why I was not allowed. My siblings and I snuck around, listening to Christian music here, pop music there, watching TV when our parents were gone.

I’m still trying to get caught up on movies, pop culture, and music references.

Courtship was introduced as the only method of finding a spouse. We read books like the Courtship of Sarah McLean, I Kissed Dating Goodbye, Boy Meets Girl, The Princess and the Kiss, and so many more. It was like my dad was supposed to own me, and any potential mate would have to ask for my father’s permission both to be near me and to eventually own me.

It’s so damaging to think of oneself as property.

Now, I want to date to find someone to marry, but my father does not own me. I do not need to be under his “vision” for my family. I have my own vision, which does not include abuse.

"Girls were to have babies, homeschool their kids, and be dominated by men."

“Girls were to have babies, homeschool their kids, and be dominated by men.”

Mom held a sexist view of girls: they should not work outside the home. Girls were to have babies, homeschool their kids, and be dominated by men. Many Vision Forum books cemented this view in her mind like So Much More, What’s a Girl to Do, the Beautiful Girlhood books, Mother, and Joyfully at Home. Mom taught me needlework like a good Victorian girl, but I hated these activities! Just because I’m a girl does not mean I have to knit and drink tea!

I’m a person! I’m not a gender stereotype.

I was taught to be afraid of gays, Islam, and black men. It’s tough to grow up in a homophobic, Islamophobic, racist, sexist environment and come out unscathed. While it’s a struggle, I have learned to love everyone as made in the image and likeness of God.

The modesty teachings were awful. Modesty was focused more on covering skin than on ensuring the dignity of each person. I learned to watch my back for guys who would lust after me.

I heard that what I wore made me a rape target.

At first, Mom dressed me in denim jumpers or Easter and Christmas dresses from the local stores. Eventually, she forced me to sew my own dresses and skirts. When I was 9 years old, she told me that having my hair down made me look like a “lady of the night.” Even though I was a shy, modest girl, Mom constantly told me that something I did or wore was sinful, displeasing to God, and might turn on my dad or my brothers.

I was so scared that I was going to lead my brothers or dad into sin for lusting after me.

If that’s not twisted thinking, I really don’t know what is. Bleh.

I cried so many tears over how ugly I thought my body was, thanks to the baggy clothes I wore. Looking back, I was a healthy weight and my body was great. But shirts had to have sleeves and couldn’t come below the collarbone. Pants were forbidden after age 6. Swimwear was culottes that puffed full of water. The lifeguards even chided me for not wearing appropriate swim attire. I wanted to scream, “It’s not me!” My skirts had to be several inches below the knee, or else I was “showing some leg,” and that would “give guys a little jolt.”

When I finally turned 18, I had to beg a friend to help me pick out my first real pair of pants since Kindergarten. Of course, Mom called me a “slut” and a “whore,” declaring she could see intimate parts through my pants that would have been impossible for her to see. It was just to shame me.

Oh boy, here comes the scary part.

Sex.

No one in my homeschooling community talked about sex. I got the talk at 12, earlier than any of my homeschooled friends. However, I only knew about one type of intercourse. I didn’t even know people did it lying down, lol. Because puberty, sex, and all related words were so hush hush, I stopped asking my mother questions.

The first time I heard another girl even mention her period, I was 16.

I stared at her in shock! “Did she just speak of her period?” I wondered. When I turned 18, I succumbed to searching dictionaries to learn the rest of the words and meanings.

I was also incredibly afraid of CPS. Through HSLDA and my parents, I learned that foster homes are terrible places that abuse children by burning their hands on stoves, and more. Well, it worked. I didn’t call hotlines, tell the speech moms who cared about me, or beg my few friends for help.

When CPS showed up at our doorstep, my siblings and I lied for fear of being separated from each other forever.

The community that attended our very conservative Catholic church supported the sheltered, so-modest-its-frumpy, sexist views of my parents. I even was bullied at church for failing to meet up to the standards of the kids my age. In the midst of all this, I got comments asking if I was part of a cult, Amish, or Mormon. It hurt deeply that people thought I was a freak. “IT’S NOT BY CHOICE!” I wanted to scream. But I couldn’t.

When people think you’re part of a cult, they tend to ignore you or avoid you.

The few people I told about the abuse after I escaped looked at me with shock and said, “I had no idea.” The isolation of homeschooling added with the isolation of a cultic appearance equals an ideal environment for abuse to continue.

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To be continued.

12 comments

  • Pingback: Growing Kids the Abusive Way: Auriel’s Story, Part One | H . A

  • I’m relieved that you escaped that toxic subculture and now recognize your intrinsic worth as a human being. Here’s to living a great life of freedom and discovery.

    The attitudes of your parents were seeped in FEAR: fear of the body, fear of sexuality, fear of people who were different from them, fear of the outside world, fear of losing control of their little domestic fiefdom. What a terrible way to live, always feeling fear.

    • Ahab, your comments about fears resonate with me: I grew up in the Bible Belt (specifically, Indiana) during the 1940’s and 1950’s, and I instantly recognize the fears you mention. The Civil Rights and Women’s Liberation Movements of the 60’s and 70’s SUPPOSEDLY put these fears to rest, but obviously not. Our Founders were right: Eternal vigilance is the price of freedom. And that includes freedom from (or at least resistance to) manipulation of our own fears. Let’s all keep working on it.

  • “I was taught to be afraid of gays, Islam, and black men. It’s tough to grow up in a homophobic, Islamophobic, racist, sexist environment and come out unscathed. ”

    YES YES thank you! Same here.

    My sister never told me when she started her period. I still have no idea when she did. We never spoke of those things. I can’t ever remember homeschool friends really talking about it, except the neighbors would. So it’s not like I never heard of it, but rarely. I never got any kind of a sex education, though. We called sex the S word, haha, but never said what the S word really was.

    My mom was strict on modesty, but pants were allowed.

  • Pingback: Growing Kids the Abusive Way: Auriel’s Story, Part Three — Mini-Parents | H . A

  • Glad you were able to escape that environment and learn to think and live for yourself. Much of what you describe mirrors my own upbringing, although my mom does not have any psychological problems.

    I still don’t understand why Christian culture in general considers sex or anything sexual to be somehow taboo. Natural bodily functions or organs somehow gain this mystical reverence that no one wants to talk about. I can remember getting in trouble whenever I asked questions, and being married now to a Baptist my wife is extremely uncomfortable at anything involving the topic. I think Christian’s just don’t know how to reconcile sex with their world view.

    • All Peoples of the Book (Jews, Christians, Muslims) have just one thing in common: Suppression of women. That’s why sex is the only thing that’s important to them. Keep women barefoot and pregnant, and you can control society. No money need be spent on women and children because women are too tired and discriminated against to fight very hard for that. No educational systems that teach girls to pursue their dreams with any autonomy or self respect (outside of serving men), etc. That’s why sex is the only thing important to the patriarchal mindset: It’s about power.

  • Pingback: Growing Kids the Abusive Way: Auriel’s Story, Part Four — The Sound of a Sewing Machine | H . A

  • Thank you all for your caring. I am really grateful for your support. It was difficult, living in fear. The peace, joy, and real fun that comes from living for the first time without apprehension is absolutely incredible!

    • I’ve read your posts before, and can’t remember if I’ve welcomed you to the real world. Freedom, too, can be scary; but that’s something under YOUR control, not your parents’ control. For a secular approach to the subject, Google “Free Inquiry” and learn what freedom can mean: Not godless, not god burdened, but GOD FREE. It’s exhilarating!

  • Pingback: Growing Kids the Abusive Way: Auriel’s Story, Part Five — The Aftermath of Childhood Abuse | H . A

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