Flore Astid is a former cult member who grew up in a cult. She uses poetry and other forms of writing to explore both her resilience and her sufferings. The following is a narrative written for the Cult Clinic web site. To find out more about our counseling services for former cult members, contact us at (212) 632-4640 or info@cultclinic.org

Growing Up in a Cult...

For me, the experience of growing up in a cult has been like a two-edged sword, inflicting some nasty wounds but providing me with a powerful tool to cut through the lies and illusions that seem to make up the greater part of our reality structure.

As a child, I learned at a relatively early age that “reality” is anything but concrete and objective, but is rather moulded through our own developmental process, largely reflecting who we are more than anything solid “out there.” In my case, I had two realities to contend with, the cult world and the outside world, and like many other cult kids; I was taught that the former was good or “heavenly” and the latter was bad, or “satanic.”

For different reasons, I never really felt at home in the cult, I tried to believe but something in me just couldn’t accept their “truth.” Having moved constantly due to cult activities made it difficult for me to slide into the outside world so I ended up being the freak in the group no matter which side I took. I was extremely lonely (being an only child didn’t help much either) and as I entered puberty I became both depressive and at times even suicidal.

Leaving the cult wasn’t exactly easy, even though my father had also left and provided a lot of support. I had been somewhat overprotected most of my life so that the tools I needed to navigate the outside world simply hadn’t been developed. I have always had my brains to count on, but that didn’t stop me from making really stupid mistakes later on. I had no respect for myself, couldn’t set limits and was open to trying pretty much anything that had been forbidden in the cult. I guess I just had to learn the hard way (and still am!). By the time I left the cult for good I had become extremely destructive, and went through a long series of painful lessons trying to find a place for myself on this strange planet which to me still seems more like a collective loony bin than a place called home.

Today I have found a small corner in the world where I feel, if not at home, at least somewhat comfortable with my surroundings and myself. My friends have become my family, and luckily I have quite a few (mostly misfits and outsiders like myself). I also have a son who keeps me from being too destructive and is in itself a good reason to stay alive. I guess he saves me from myself. I live alone, not being very good at relationships; they usually don’t last longer than a year (I never really learned how to “bond” with anyone and intimacy scares me).

Recently, I gave a talk about my experiences to a large and sympathetic group. It was very empowering since for the first time I was able to express my feelings in a caring environment and discovered that I was not alone, many cult survivors have had similar experiences to mine. I think the whole healing process can be speeded up substantially when there is an opportunity to work through ones difficulties in therapy or at least with others who have been through a similar ordeal. I never had that chance, so I basically had to heal myself (can’t afford therapy and where I live there is little expertise on cult issues in general).

Part of my healing process has been to see how even the most painful experiences can be used to grow and become wiser if one is open to learning the lessons hidden within each hardship. I don’t see myself as a victim, I have learned to see through lies and develop spiritually on my own terms. I guess I made the best out of what I got.

Some say that the greatest lessons are also the most painful, and growing up as a cult kid has certainly taught me a lot. Finding the strength to carry on hasn’t always been easy, but I’ve made it this far and I certainly don’t plan on giving up now. I just hope others like me may be as fortunate.