Jehovah's Witnesses do not celebrate birthdays. It is a sin, it is idolatry. I was born into this horrible cult with the thought that I should be a “soft mat for others to step on.”

I grew up hearing horrible stories of what would happen to me in the world if I left the cult, I grew up hearing the story of “Dina”, Jacob's daughter who was raped for straying from the right path of Jehovah.

6 years ago I escaped without looking back. Life is hard out here, just as hard as inside the cult. The difference is that out here I'm not lying and my nervous system isn't falling apart from hypervigilance.

Life is hard, life is many things, but currently it is wonderful. I have people taking care of me and accompanying me, people who don't see me as a “doormat.”

Stay safe, your life is beautiful when it's finally yours.

I grew up both undiagnosed with autism and in a cult. I believe that this is part of the reason why being in, and attempting to deconstruct from a high control group, was so difficult. Cults have rigid and tight rules that can be difficult for neurodivergence to understand, so even when I was in this "community" that I "belonged" in, I was still the odd one out that was considered the challenge for the rest of the group. Additionally, the group I was very non individualistic, as many cults are, therefore I was expected to conform to the extreme. I already sucked at normal interaction and fitting, so you can imagine how off it was whilst I was in the group. When it comes to leaving and processing that you're in one as well, it was another level of confusion for me. It seems like I'm constantly in a battle between my identity linked to my autism and my identity that was molded by the cult.

Any other neurodivergent cult survivors? What was your experiences like?

My Golden Thread: How the Cult’s Own Tool Set Me Free

The Excavation 

In her Writing to Reckon journal, Gerette Buglion asks a couple of questions that struck me as counter-intuitive: “Can you identify a ‘golden thread’ in the entity you’ve left behind? Despite going through hell, what are you still grateful for?” Figuring out the good aspects of our cultic experiences can help us understand that not everything about those times in our lives was a complete loss.

For the ten years I spent in and out of University Bible Fellowship (UBF), the golden thread was the fact that they put a Bible in my hands. It is a profound irony that the book they intended to use to control my life became the very tool that exposed them and provided the blueprint for my escape.

The First Spark of Self-Esteem (June 1982)

I began 1-1 Bible study with Teddy in the summer of 1982. During a study of Genesis 1:31, I read that God saw everything He made and called it "very good." I felt a voice say, “And that included you.” For a kid who grew up bullied and feeling like an accident, this was the first positive thought I ever had about myself. It was a baseline of identity they couldn't later erase.

The "Factual Study" and Jeremiah 15:16 

Another UBF practice was the “factual study,” which was essentially reading the Bible cover-to-cover while taking extensive notes — likely a way to keep members quiet and out of the way. During one of these studies, Jeremiah 15:16 leaped out at me: “When your words came, I ate them; they were my joy and my heart’s delight…” This verse became a personal anchor, independent of the antiseptic lessons they were trying to drill into me.

The Blinding Irony of Jeremiah 6:14-15

A couple of years later, I listened as the chapter leader, Peter, used Jeremiah 6:14-15 to vehemently criticize other churches for “dressing the wounds of my people as though it were not serious”. I realized at that moment that UBF was guilty of the exact same thing. They ignored their members’ past trauma, insisting it didn't matter once they started Bible study.

This culminated in 1984, when I was forced to write my life testimony. I wrote over 115 single-spaced pages and poured every detail of my past life into it. When I mentioned that writing it made me sad, I was told that I had no faith because my past was gone since I had started studying the Bible with them. Their sanitized 12-page version of my life sang their praises while erasing the hell I had lived through before joining the group.

My Wilderness Years and Finding Safety (1985–1987) 

After my Bible teacher kicked me out of UBF in November 1985 because I accused him of trying to brainwash me, I spent my Wilderness Years trying to flee from God. But Psalm 139 haunted me with the idea that I couldn't flee His presence. 

In 1986, I heard a sermon on the Prodigal Son (from Luke 15). The pastor’s words — “The father’s welcome proved that it was safe to go home” — showed me that God’s love was a safe harbor, a stark contrast to the spiritual coercion I had experienced.

The Sidewalk Exit (June 1992) 

I returned to UBF in the spring of 1987 because I knew I needed a relationship with God and remembered how clearly he had spoken to me through reading the Bible with them. I finally walked away after my Sidewalk Exit in June 1992. Peter, the chapter leader, made a comment to me that opened my eyes and convinced me that I was at last done with them. 

For years afterward, I only saw the harm they did to me, but through this memoir project - I Was a Teenage Cult Member - I can finally see their  Golden Thread. It makes me think of Genesis 50:20: “You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good...”. They intended to use the Bible to control me, but it gave me the strength to break free from them and live my own life.

Background 

University Bible Fellowship (UBF) is the cult I was in from June 1982 to June 1992. It was started in Korea in 1961 and moved to Chicago in 1977; since then, it has metastasized all over the world. I joined the Ohio State chapter right after I graduated from high school in June 1982. The chapter leader, Peter, lived in the house called the center, where the group’s activities like Sunday services and group Bible study were headquartered.

The First Exit: Cast Out (November 1985)

The first time I left UBF, I was kicked out. 

In the fall of 1985, after I was fired from a deli job, my Bible teacher, Tom, ordered me to write the sentence “God can do whatever he wants with my life” repeatedly until I could accept it.

After writing it fifteen times, I realized the exercise was stupid and left the center on my bike. Tom didn’t even bother to find me himself. Instead, ninety minutes later, Brent and Todd — other Bible students, not leaders — were sent to my parents’ house to ask why I had left. I told them it was because I thought Tom was trying to brainwash me. Only after they reported back my accusation did Tom call me on the phone to deliver his verdict: “Then I cast you out”. He didn’t even have the courtesy to ask me himself or to come see me. He kicked me out of UBF in a phone call. This initiated my Wilderness Years (November 1985 to Spring 1987).

The Second Exit: The Sidewalk Exit (June 1992)

The second time I left, I walked away. In June 1992, as a grad student, I told Peter I wanted to transfer to Ohio University so I could finish my Master’s degree in a better program.

Peter’s response floored me: “I don’t think I am ready for you to do that yet”.

At that moment, the scales fell from my eyes. I realized the staggering level of control UBF had exerted — dictating my facial hair, my academic major, and even my legal address - over my life for the past decade. I walked away that afternoon and never looked back. 

When another chapter leader later left me a note saying, "Please come back to God," I crumpled it up. I hadn’t left God; I had left UBF.

Life After: Reclaiming the Ordinary

Since that sunny June 1992 afternoon, I’ve spent the last 34 years building the life I missed out on:

• Relational Autonomy: My wife and I will celebrate our 34th anniversary in November.
• Professional Continuity: I’ve had a series of good jobs; I’m currently an Office Manager.
• Spiritual Re-calibration: I have worshiped at a series of churches. I’ve been accepted as a contributing member at each church and each one has been a place for me to grow in my life with God.

I got out — twice — and my life couldn’t be any better.

I get it now…
Why a friend I bumped into not long after joining UBF said, “It sounds like you’re in a cult,” when I told her about the Bible verse I had been instructed to memorize.

I get it now…
Why a classmate told his friend, “He’s inviting me to Bible study but I think he’s trying to get me to join a cult.” Teddy had told me to invite him repeatedly until he accepted my invitation.

I get it now…
Why a neighbor once asked me if I knew the definition of the word “cult.” Years later, I had the chance to thank him for the question and to apologize for not understanding him.

I get it now…
Why my junior high librarian told Mom it was strange that another country sent missionaries to the US when Mom told her where I was going to church.

I get it now…
Why it was such an outrage for UBF to tailor my autobiography to their wording when they made me write my life testimony for their 1984 regional conference. That testimony credited 1:1 Bible study for changing my life and sang Teddy’s and Peter’s praises for changing me into a good little UBFer while ignoring the pain and trauma caused by being forced to write it.

I get it now…
Why Moses could make promises he had no intention of keeping. He was looking for emotional hooks to extend his hold over me.

I can’t unsee…
The moment when I was unpacking while moving into the Northwood house with Moses and his family. When he saw the Atari videogame disks Dad gave me along with the computer, Moses made me give those disks back to Dad.

I can’t unsee…
The afternoon Moses purged my bookshelf. He saw my copy of Grendel which retells Beowulf from the monster’s perspective (I had bought it because a British Literature professor recommended it), found it objectionable, then took it and several other books and presumably threw them away. I never saw them again.

I can’t unhear the moment…
When Peter rebuked Tom for his casual greeting of “Hey there! Hi there! Ho there!” by saying it was unsuitable for a man of God. This meant that individuality wasn’t allowed in UBF.

I can’t unhear the moment…
When Teddy proclaimed “I would throw myself off a cliff for my key verse!” the day he heard I hadn’t selected my annual key verse (used for personal inspiration). My unspoken reply was, “Shouldn’t Jesus be who you’re willing to die for?”

I can’t unhear the moment…
Teddy claimed that a demon came to him in a dream shortly before he met me on campus. The demon said, “Don’t meet him! Pass him by!” We heard it as confirmation that I was supposed to be in UBF; now I see it for the emotional propaganda it really was.

I can’t unhear the moment…
When Teddy told me I should always be grateful to him because God had used him to bring me to Jesus.

I can’t unhear the moment…
When Peter told me, “I don’t think I am ready for you to do that yet” the Sunday afternoon when I told him I was thinking of transferring to another university to finish grad school. That was the moment I turned away and left UBF for good.

Social proof means going along with the behaviors and attitudes around you because you are part of a group. It’s like peer pressure, but deeper—you find yourself doing things you would never do on your own. Looking back, I can see two specific milestones where the group successfully replaced my family with their own "management."

September 1982 - The 3,000-Mile Divide

My parents are from Washington State — Spokane and Colville. They moved to Ohio for my dad’s PhD, but they never quite lost that connection to home. Growing up 3,000 miles away from our extended family meant we only saw our grandparents, aunts, and uncles about seven or eight times while I was growing up. I remember the highlight was a fifth-grade road trip back West. My Grandpa used to tease my Dad for "taking his little girl (my mom) away."

In the summer of 1982, only three months after I joined University Bible Fellowship (UBF), my parents planned a trip back home to Washington for September. I was excited until I realized it fell on the same weekend as a UBF international conference in Ontario, Canada.

My family was baffled when I decided to not go with them. I chose the conference over my own grandparents. Teddy, my Bible teacher, assured me I’d made the right decision. I didn’t see my family in Washington again for ten years.

June 1990 - The Graduation Erasure

By 1990, the takeover was near total. I graduated from Ohio State with a degree in Secondary English Education. I had worked my butt off for that degree; maintaining a 3.2 GPA while working 35 hours a week in financial aid and carrying a full course load.

Most students spend graduation day with their families, taking photos and celebrating their hard work. I didn’t even see my parents that day. I didn't make plans with them. I don't even remember telling them I was graduating. I had been so thoroughly conditioned to see the group as my family that my biological parents weren't even an afterthought. The only photo I have of myself in a cap and gown was taken with Moses - my Bible teacher and small group leader - in his office.

He took the place of my family on what should have been one of my proudest moments.

The Reflection

It’s pitiful to remember this now, but it’s a perfect example of how their system worked. They didn't have to kidnap me; they just used "social proof" to make their presence more real than my own flesh and blood. Replacing that violation with my memoir project I Was a Teenage Cult Member is the way I’m taking my life back and living it on my own terms.

This is her story from the beginning if you have TT. I’m so proud of her and wish I could do more to support her in her goals. What do yall think?

I wanted to share my experience growing up in a church in Vici, Oklahoma called Church of the Firstborn or General Assembly of Church of the Firstborn.

Growing up, I wholeheartedly believed in the teachings of the church because we were told it was the only true church with the ultimate truth. According to the beliefs instilled in us, all other Christian churches in the world misinterpreted the Bible and failed to follow the correct path to salvation.

One of the most criticized aspects of the church is its stance on anti-medication and doctoring, which resulted in numerous preventable deaths, especially among women and young children. The rejection of medical assistance led to devastating consequences for families within the community.

The church adhered to a set of unconventional practices. Women were prohibited from cutting their hair, as it was considered a symbol of modesty and submission. Another concerning practice is the marriage of young girls as young as young as 13 years old to older men. This practice was normalized within the community, and it was difficult to question or challenge the cultural norms that perpetuated such arrangements. The church, at least the ones I’ve been to in Oklahoma are all predominantly white. Also people commonly marry within the church leading to marrying distant family members continuously. And the holy kiss, which is where baptized members will kiss each other regardless of age, gender, as a greeting.

The assemblies for this church were very slow and almost haunting. Men are seen as the dominant figure and women are not allowed to work or have careers as they're seen to be holding down the house, which also means men were the ones to lead the services. With no medical help, including common over-the-counter medicines, they believe that healing is done through anointment of olive oil and prayer. Throughout the years, I've seen many die from cancer or much more avoidable things such as childbirth, common illnesses, or things that vaccinations would have prevented.

I myself am no longer affiliated with the church, although still visit my family. It's a very terrible thing that they have involved themselves in, especially for children who are raised in the church. Children are told not to speak about the church and are usually homeschooled to avoid any conflict with legal issues or the outside world.

I myself fell very ill my, towards the end of my high school career, which made DHS get called, yet they dismissed it because of how normal our family looks on the outside. Although I almost died and was bedridden for nearly a year, no medication was offered and they even tried to get me to sign over my rights to keep guardianship over me as I was supposed to go to college, which they already didn't want me going to since I am female.

All this to say, I see a lot of older generations post about the church, but not as many younger generations. who have newly escaped the church.

If you have any questions or want to talk, please DM me, as I try not to think about it as much but know I need to come to terms with the fact that it's a part of my history and majority of my life so far. I've thought about building a legal case against them, as many of their deaths and medical negligence has gone unrecorded or avoided the law, but have not seen enough exposure, although there are many churches spread across the country that follow this same belief.

The Diminishing Process: How a Cult Stripped Away My Identity.

I recently wrote a journal entry about identifying the "False Self" people create so they can survive cults or high-control groups. At first, I didn't think I had a false self; I thought I was just "me." But looking  back at my decade in University Bible Fellowship (UBF), I realize I was systematically diminished. This meant that vital parts of myself were stripped away until they thought they could manage me.

My Life Before the Storm

Before I was "fished" on the Ohio State campus in 1982, I was a mess — I had been bullied from fourth grade until my senior year of high school, I had no self-esteem, and was reckless. But I had three sources of peace in my life: movies, science fiction, and bike riding.

• I’d seen Raiders of the Lost Ark 14 times. My siblings and I were crazy about Star Wars and The Empire Strikes Back.
• I read any science fiction books I could find. During my senior year of high school, I discovered Dinosaur Planet and Dinosaur Planet Survivors by Anne McCaffrey.
• I spent my nights on bike rides of at least 10 miles because those were the only times no one bothered me.

The Hook and the First Positive Thought

When Teddy and Richard found me, I was directionless. UBF felt welcoming. They gave me a birthday party when no one else besides my family would. During a 1-1 study on Genesis 1:31 ("God saw all that he had made, and it was very good"), I felt a voice say: "And that included you." It was the first positive thought I ever had about myself.

That was the hook. Then the diminishment began.

The 10-Year Stripping of the Self

UBF didn't change me all at once; they chipped away at me until only a sheep remained:

• The Literacy Ban: Peter (our chapter leader) saw me reading Dinosaur Planet in the fall of 1982 and told me I shouldn’t read science fiction anymore. I lost my favorite genre for years. Later, Moses (the leader I lived with at the time) saw my copy of Grendel and confiscated it, calling it "filth about demons."
• The Aesthetic Control: I was finally able to grow a mustache when I was 20. Peter ordered me to shave it because I "wanted to be like the world." I stayed clean-shaven until I left in 1992.
• The Academic Veto: I wanted to switch my major to Elementary Education. Peter rebuked me in front of the whole chapter, claiming I was just afraid of teenagers. He forced me to stay in a major I didn't want.
• The Humor Wall: My natural banter was labeled "lustful" or "obscene." I was rebuked for making a simple joke about "chemistry" between a married couple.

The 115-Page Violation

In 1984, I was forced to write a life testimony. I poured out 115 handwritten pages of raw trauma - bullying, pedophilic victimization, and self-loathing.

James (later Moses) hounded me until I hit a breaking point. They then boiled those 115 pages of pain down to 12 pages of a thumbnail sketch that made me look like a wretch just so they could sing the praises of the "gentle shepherds" who saved me. It wasn't a testimony; it was propaganda for UBF and 1-1 Bible study.

The Intellectual and Final Exits

My intellectual exit from UBF happened when Moses' wife screamed at me for simply asking "Why?" after he gave me an order. She called me a "poor, dumb sheep." That was the moment I finally realized UBF was not safe.

My physical exit came in June 1992. I told Peter I was thinking of transferring to Ohio University to finish grad school.

Peter looked at me and said: “I don’t think I am ready for you to do that yet.”

In that sentence, the mask fell. He didn't want me to grow; he wanted a puppet. I didn't say a word. I turned around, walked away, and started living life on my own terms.

Note to the community: This is part of my ongoing project, I Was a Teenage Cult Member, which is replacing their 1984 revision of my life history with the unvarnished truth.

In June 1992, I had my Sidewalk Exit from the cult University Bible Fellowship (UBF). After ten years of the group managing my life, the leader told me he "wasn't ready" for me to transfer schools to finish my Master's degree. That was the moment the hold shattered; I turned and left him standing on the sidewalk without replying to his stupid comment.

What followed wasn't a miracle — it was the hard-won process of becoming a man with a life of my own.

Relational Autonomy: Meeting My Wife

In August 1992, just two months after leaving, I went on the first date with the woman who would become my wife. I was so nervous I drove 50 miles in my dad’s car just wandering around before picking her up. On November 14, 1992, we were married. Our partnership was entirely our own, formed outside the management of a cult leader. For over 30 years, she has been my anchor.

Professional Continuity: From Sheep to Office Manager 

The group exploited my labor; the real world respected it. I chose not to finish my Master’s so I could find steady work and support my new life.

• The First Steps: In 1994, I started working as a membership coordinator for a professional association, where I tripled the size of their referral service through individual attention to the service’s participants.
• The Corporate Years: I spent 13 years at a major insurance carrier as a Senior Administrative Secretary from day one. I supported executives and large teams, eventually training others who were promoted beyond my own level.
• Academic Integrity: In 2012, I earned a second degree in Management Information Systems while working full-time. I made the Dean’s List and built database tools that impressed my managers.
• The Publishing Era: I spent nine years at a major textbook publisher, as a Content Licensing Coordinator in their Content Licensing department. It was a community of Pi Day potlucks and mutual respect—a place where I made an appreciated contribution.
• My New Job: I’m now the office manager for a wireless communication company. They hired me because of my administrative skills and adaptability.

Why this matters 

I’m sharing this because for a long time, I was ashamed of my time in the group. I thought it was my fault I was recruited as a recent high school graduate in 1982.

But documenting these decades of normal life proves that I took my life back. I replaced their antiseptic thumbnail sketch of me with a reality where I am the one at the keyboard.

The Sanctuary of Fraud - How a Cult’s "No Dating" Rule Became My Safe Place

My cult experience was with a group called University Bible Fellowship (UBF) and their main taboo was against relationships between men and women.

The Setup: Why I Welcomed the Rule

Some of the harassment I endured throughout high school included girls flirting with me only to humiliate me. Once, a girl named Kim asked me out and gave me her address, but then stood silently in her dark apartment while I knocked on her door. She didn’t know I could see her through a window.

Imagine my relief when I joined UBF and the chapter leader, Peter, declared there would be no dating between members. It felt like security; the behaviors that had hurt me were now outlawed.

The Enforcement: Sobbing While Preparing for a Christmas Service

UBF’s stance was rigid and bizarrely inconsistent:

• The Double Standard: My sister was rebuked for meeting a guy just to study. However, I wasn’t rebuked for spending hours alone with a woman while I typed her PhD dissertation.
• The Blanket Incident: I was once rebuked for sharing a blanket with a girl by putting it over our feet while we were sitting on separate chairs.
• The Tirade: During preparations for a Christmas service, Peter launched into a 30-minute tirade, screaming that we were "evil" and acting on "lustful desires" because some men and women had been joking around. Because he started yelling right after I spoke, I took it personally and started sobbing. He told me my tears were because my "sin had been exposed before God".

The Mechanism: Marriage by Faith

In UBF, "Marriage by Faith" meant chapter leaders decided when and whom you would marry.

• One guy from our chapter flew to Korea to meet his wife for the first time on their wedding day.
• The group exerted total control over relational autonomy, often moving members to different cities once they were "matched".

The Hypocrisy: "Of Course They Dated"

During my Northwood Years (1987–1990), I moved in with a leader named Moses. He took a photo of a girl I liked — a waitress from a restaurant where I had worked - from me, promising to "keep it safe". I never saw it again; I’m sure he destroyed it.

The revelation of UBF’s hypocrisy came when Moses casually mentioned that a "matched" couple in our chapter had "of course" dated before marriage. This meant Peter was a baldfaced liar. My sanctuary had been a fraud the whole time.

Dodging a "Marriage by Faith" Bullet

Because Peter had gotten so fully in my head, I think I dodged a bullet during my later years. Peter’s wife once asked me to go with her to pick up a student named Tina from the airport. When Tina stepped forward to hug me, I froze. I heard Peter’s voice in my mind and saw his wife standing right there.

Looking back, I believe Peter was testing me for a potential "match" with Tina. A few weeks later, I saw her on campus with another guy, who seemed embarrassed to see me — likely because I had been the first choice for that arrangement.

Reclaiming My Life

I was blessed to meet Fran near the end of my UBF years. We started dating on our own terms and married in November 1992. In a few months, we will celebrate our 34th anniversary. I have a wonderful marriage with a woman who saw me for myself—not because a leader decided it was "appropriate".

The hook that drew me into University Bible Fellowship (UBF) wasn't some grand spiritual promise. It was something I had almost never encountered: simple human acceptance.

The Background: A Target from the Start

My family moved to Columbus, Ohio, when I was in first grade, and the bullying started almost immediately. In the apartment where we lived until I was in third grade, a kid named Michael picked on all three of us — me, my younger brother, and my sister — even in front of my visiting relatives.

In 1974, we moved to Grandview, near Ohio State’s campus. This is the house where all four of us grew up (my youngest brother was a baby then), where Mom passed away on Easter Sunday 2025, and where Dad still lives today.

The bullying escalated in fourth grade because of the color of my teeth. I was one of the first babies given the antibiotic Tetracycline, which discolored my teeth from the inside out before they even grew. "Greenteeth" became a label that followed me for years.

Escalation and the Prison of School

I made mistakes, too. In fifth grade, I used my position as a hall monitor to bully a younger kid named John. He eventually turned the tables and spent years harassing me with a group of friends I was terrified of.

By middle school, I was climbing industrial buildings near home just to be alone. One night, some kids from school saw me and dared me to jump. I cussed them out and ran back and forth on the roof until a neighbor brought Dad to get me. The next week, my parents arbitrarily sent me to counseling at OSU's Upham Hall, never asking what had happened that night.

In high school, I was an easy target. I wore a yellow Chevy hat for a year, a denim cowboy hat on field trips, and a Darth Vader shirt for three months straight. I had a mouth that could make a sailor blush, often cussing out people until they got mad and started hitting me. I had a big mouth that I couldn’t back up.

The Breaking Point: Junior Year

The breaking point came in geometry class. The football quarterback, Ted, and his friends constantly harassed me, even egged on by a student teacher who found it amusing. One day, I stood up to hit Ted, but the student teacher threatened to send me to the office. I tried to storm out and slammed my left hand through a glass pane in the door. I nearly severed the main tendon in my wrist and had to wear a splint for weeks — which they also mocked me for. The cut was so severe that I nearly lost the use of my hand; I’m lefthanded.

By senior year, I was escaping through pot and beer, showing up sober to school for maybe 20 days the entire year. I told a teacher I felt like I was locked in a prison with no way out.

Fished Into Freedom?

Three weeks after high school graduation in June 1982, I was on my bike on Ohio State’s South Oval when two guys, Teddy and Richard, stopped me. I was resentful at first, but Teddy offered me a free meal to talk about Bible study.

I started going to "the Center" on E 13th Ave — the home of the chapter leader, Peter. I was not a pleasant person:

• I smoked on their porch and dropped my cigarette butts in the flowerbeds.
• I ate Peter's family's food out of the fridge, once polishing off a half-gallon of his favorite ice cream.
• I was tactless, calling everyone by nicknames and asking Peter if he was "in charge".

Yet, no one corrected me. No one complained. I was always welcomed.

The Final Move

That summer, my behavior at home pushed my Mom to her limit. She told me to get out. When I told Teddy, I expected sympathy, but he said: "Move in with me". He shared a house with other UBF men, and they found a spot for me.

For my 19th birthday in August, the chapter threw me a surprise party. No one besides my family had ever celebrated my birthday before. When a dozen people started singing "Happy Birthday," I ran outside and cried, telling the guy who followed me out, "I don’t deserve this!".

At the time, I thought it was genuine acceptance. Now I know it was textbook love bombing. This hook of acceptance was so powerful that it caused me to ignore every warning sign for the next four years.

I was fished into University Bible Fellowship (UBF) in June 1982, just three weeks after I graduated high school. I call it "The Cannonball" because there was no gradual entry; it was total immersion from day one.

For the first couple of years, I was in a honeymoon phase. I was young, I was "all in," and I believed the narrative they gave me. It’s important to understand why I stayed long enough for the cracks to eventually matter.

The Honeymoon Phase (1982–1984): The Good Parts

The honeymoon phase worked because it provided things I had never experienced. In the summer of 1982, during a study of Genesis, I read that God saw everything He made and called it "very good." I felt a voice say, “And that included you.” For a kid who grew up bullied and feeling like an accident, this was the first positive thought I ever had about myself. It provided a baseline of identity that felt like a sanctuary.

Furthermore, the group became my guardians. When a former "friend" falsely accused me of a crime and tried to harass me, Teddy and the biggest guys from our chapter confronted him and told him to back off. For the first time in my life, I felt protected. In August 1982, they threw me a surprise birthday party; I was moved to tears because no one outside my family had ever celebrated me like that.

The Growing Wrinkles (1985)

The cracks deepened when the group’s "protection" turned into control. In late 1984, a member named John was kidnapped by his father and deprogrammed. Peter persuaded us his father was "evil." But later, I learned that Teddy and other leaders were stalking John—following him from home to work and staking out both places. While others listened to this like a detective show, I was appalled. This was the first incident I couldn't explain away.

In the spring of 1985, I was appointed as a small group leader, but I was a leader in name only. A new leader named Timothy began dominating our sessions with monologues. When I asked him to limit his talking for the sake of the group, he rebuked me for "pride," and my fellowship was disbanded shortly after.

May 1985: The End of the Honeymoon: The Name Rebuff

The moment the honeymoon officially ended was a specific encounter with Peter. Everyone in the group seemed to be getting biblical "spiritual names"—James, Abraham, Timothy. When I asked Peter about receiving mine, he looked at me and said that I was too young for a biblical name. That sharp rebuff was the first time the "special" feeling of the honeymoon was replaced by a cold realization of my place in the hierarchy. It was the first real crack.

The Visual Lie

I also began noticing UBF’s structural dishonesty. At a regional conference, I watched a staffer rearrange the audience into alternating rows so that a photographer could take a picture that made the auditorium look full. I had to ask myself: “If they’re willing to visually lie about how many people are here, what else is UBF lying about?”

The "Dumb Sheep" Moment (Spring 1990)

My intellectual exit happened two years before I actually left. While living in the Northwood house, a leader named Moses told me to do something burdensome. When I asked "Why?", his wife Pauline ripped into me: 

“You’re just a poor, dumb sheep who doesn’t know any better and he’s the wise and benevolent shepherd who knows the only good way for you to live!”

The Wrecking Ball (June 1992)

The final break - my Sidewalk Exit — came in June 1992. I told Peter I wanted to transfer to another university so I could finish my Master’s degree. He replied: “I don’t think I am ready for you to do that yet.” That simple sentence revealed the total control he held over my life. I walked away that afternoon and never looked back.

My parents are very strict about religion. They follow BAPS Swaminarayan and there are many rules I have to follow. I don’t believe in any of these religious things, but my parents still make me do them. I’ve always questioned it, but they expect me to follow all the rules. I can’t eat meat or onions, and if I do, they say my breath smells bad, which the scriptures say is not good. They also make me follow a rule where I can’t touch anyone for 3 days because I’m impure. I hate it, and even though I’ve told them I don’t want to follow it, they make me. My mom cries if I try to get out of it. They also make me go to the temple every week, and sometimes if I don’t go because I’m sick, she gets mad. We attend classes about the spiritual leader, which I find brainwashing, and the girls there are toxic. My older brother stopped going to the temple and following the rules, and they’re fine with it, but they’re stricter with me.

I’m 18 and going to community college because of my low ACT score, and I hate staying at home. I’ve thought about joining the military to get away from them, even though I’d miss them. I want to do something with music, but my parents made me choose cybersecurity instead of photography because they think a photography degree isn’t worth it. I hate cybersecurity. The stress from all this is affecting me physically, and my parents don’t really listen to me when I tell them it’s too much. I don’t want to follow the 3-day period rule, where I can’t touch anyone, sit at the table, or get my food served. On the 4th day, I can touch things again after washing my hair. I feel lost in life. I don’t know what to do in college. I’m not interested in the other degrees, and I’m not the best at school. I just want to keep doing my singing and piano lessons. I know there’s a band in the military, but I’m not good at the piano yet. I have two more years to improve.

The Garage and the Lifeline (1978–1982)

My adolescence was defined by bullying and isolation, making safe spaces a necessity.

Dottie, the youth group leader at my parents’ church Boulevard Presbyterian, provided a safe place for me in more ways than one. During the summer before my freshman year of high school, she invited me to join the youth group. I had no idea that she was throwing me a lifeline before I even knew that I needed it.

When I rode my bike to school, people always tampered with it. They would let the air out of my tires and take the chain off its sprockets; I started riding with a set of tools and an air pump. Halfway through my freshman year, I asked Dottie if I could park my bike in her garage during the school day; she lived a few blocks from the high school. She asked no questions; she simply said that it was all right.

The church youth group became my only safe harbor, a place where I had friends and adults who didn’t yell at me. During this time, Dottie gave me a cross-stitched bookmark with the first part of Psalm 103:1: "Bless the Lord, O my soul…". She told me every stitch was a prayer for me. I held onto that bookmark for over thirty years, unaware that it was the first seed of the Word that would eventually lead to my freedom.

Youth group retreats were my favorite times with the group. On one retreat, my brother Randy was in a canoe on a pond. Suddenly he said, “Oh, crap!” and sat there baffled as his canoe sank with him in it; it had sprung a sudden leak. On another retreat, Dottie was asleep when some of us were hungry. We found some spaghetti in the kitchen and decided to fix it, but we weren’t sure how to tell if it had boiled long enough. Then someone mentioned they had heard a strand of spaghetti would stick to the wall if it was done. So we took turns throwing clumps of spaghetti against the wall. I can’t remember if we actually ate the spaghetti or how Dottie reacted when she saw the mess the next morning.

Fished into the Cult and the Takeover (1982–1988)

In June 1982, three weeks after I graduated from high school, I was recruited into University Bible Fellowship (UBF). They recognized my vulnerability and used it to create a deep dependency. For ten years, the group dictated my appearance, my academic major, and my housing situation, including dictating who my roommates would be.

Despite this control, I began to reclaim my own path between 1988 and 1990 by returning to Ohio State and working 35 hours a week in the Financial Aid Office. I graduated with a 3.2 GPA in June 1990, proving a level of professional continuity that the group’s narrative of me as a "confused 18-year-old" ignored.

The Delicious Irony of the Word

The greatest irony of my time in UBF was that the Bible — the book they intended to use for my subjugation — became the means of my liberation. While they tried to mold me into a puppet, specific verses began to anchor my identity outside of their influence:

Genesis 1:31. Early on, I realized that when God saw all He made was "very good," that included me. Reading that verse made me think, “And that included me.” It was the first positive thought I ever had about myself.

Philippians 1:6. During the time I was cast out of UBF (November 1985 to Spring 1987), a friend used this to remind me that God wasn't done with me yet.

Psalm 139:16.: This verse shattered my sense of worthlessness by showing my days were ordained before I was even born.

Genesis 50:20. "You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good...". This became the lens through which I viewed the entire experience.

The New Relationship with Dad

This spiritual re-calibration also transformed my relationship with my Dad. In 1988, we started a private Bible study. Although I used UBF guides, I kept our sessions entirely independent from the group's indoctrination process. We shared family histories - including how Dad’s father stayed alive on his deathbed long enough to see me, his first grandchild - and stories of our own teenage joyrides, leading to the first hug with Dad I can ever remember. I would repeat the entire decade in UBF just to ensure this relationship with my dad turned out the same.

The Tide Pool and the Sidewalk Exit (1990–1992)

The atmosphere shifted in 1990 when the house leaders, Moses and Pauline, left the country. For the first time in eight years, I could breathe. I started grad school in 1991, moved into my own apartment, and eventually met Fran - the woman I would marry in November 1992 - whose kindness was a stark contrast to the group's rigid standards.

The end came in June 1992. I was standing on the sidewalk after a Sunday service, telling the chapter leader, Peter, about my plans to transfer to Ohio University. He looked at me and said, “I don’t think I am ready for you to do that yet”. That comment shattered the illusion of his authority. I realized that the lifeline Dottie had thrown me years ago with a cross-stitched bookmark had finally pulled me to safety.

Did anybody else suffer from abuse as a child from Amway? And also recollect it with a cult structure?All of my abusers were from Amway ranging from teenagers to adults before I knew it was wrong. I also have extremely vivid memories of going to very large conferences in different parts of the country, with Christian worship, being reconfirmed over and over, and constant sermoning about becoming a Diamond complete with the Peter Island song? Hoping I can find some other people so I don't feel alone or crazy that I was in the MLM Amway cult or point me in the right direction of the right Reddit..

I spent 34 years inside a high-control religious group called the Church of God in Christ, Mennonite. When I finally started naming the harm publicly — the abuse covered internally, the shunning used as a weapon, the doctrine applied to everyone except the people enforcing it — the response followed a pattern so consistent it couldn't be accidental.

First they denied it happened or reframed it as something else.

Then they attacked my character. I was bitter. I had an independent spirit. I was offended and hadn't forgiven. My credibility became the subject instead of the claim I made.

Then — and this is the part that took me longest to name — they positioned themselves as the victims. My accountability was persecution. My questions were an attack on the true church. The institution that caused the harm was now the suffering party bearing its cross with patience.

I didn't have a word for this until recently.

The word is DARVO. Deny, Attack, Reverse Victim and Offender. It was developed by psychologist Jennifer Freyd to describe how perpetrators and institutions respond when held accountable.

Once I learned it I couldn't unsee it. Every conversation I'd had with people still inside the church followed that exact sequence. Every time I raised something specific and documented, the conversation shifted from what I said to what was wrong with me for saying it.

The thing that makes institutional DARVO different from individual DARVO is the total control the institution has over your reality. They controlled my family relationships, my social world, my economic connections, my information environment. When an institution that controls all of those things deploys DARVO against you, you have almost nowhere to stand outside the system to evaluate what the system is doing to you.

I've been writing about this and other dynamics in high-control religion for a few months now. The response has been overwhelming — mostly from people saying they finally have a word for something they lived but couldn't name.

If any of this resonates I'd be glad to talk about it.

https://youtu.be/PfBQZnw4qig?si=LGVARhSQV9GZWa8G

Shincheonji is a doomsday Korean cult, and just like many other cults, the HQ is hiding a lot of information from the non-Korean cult members.

Hello, I posted a while ago talking about my struggle with sin and the trauma that I struggle with in order to confess my sins and get it off my chest. I mentioned being in a cult and that’s what I’m going to share so that I can make people aware about these people.

I want to try my best to continue to remain anonymous but they will know who I am ( I am also going to try to keep everyone else anonymous except the cult leader I believe they are being manipulated too) . Almost 4 years ago I met a small group of people online after having an encounter with God and wanting to seek Christian friends and a church. They went through the Bible with me telling me about their doctrine; Jesus was separate from God, there was no Trinity, and baptism should be in Jesus name and you should receive the Holy Ghost (speaking in tongues). It seemed strange but at the time I was already going through a lot mentally and the way they explained it made sense. (they used scripture) they asked if I wanted to be baptized, I said I’d think about it and we exchanged emails in case I changed my mind(which did happen). The next day I emailed them and we set up a date and time for my baptism.

Now I do want to skip somethings because I don’t want to be writing for half the day. I got baptized , and a month later we got on a group call so that I can receive the Holy Ghost. While that was going on the man that baptized me, got closer and started talking romantically this was only for a short time as I found out that he was already married to another woman who left him maybe a year prior (probably because she could see he was in a cult) and for a time things got awkward because I still had very deep feelings for him ( I was a bit younger than I am now and easily swoon by small affections).

The group has a lot of men and some women, mostly already married or previously married. I would talk to 3 group members at a time, a girl and two guys. I started to hear more about a man named Clinton and his channel along with another channel that was like a sister channel mostly for the women. The women mostly dressed very modest at times covering their hair and only wearing skirts and dresses, while the men dressed casually ( with some debates around shorts) and while I was already meeting some of these people within the first months in the ‘church’ I met more people in the second year, and at the time I was being pursued by another man of the group he was a little older, and much more knowledgeable, he had a crush on another sister in the group but because she had no interest in him at all at the time she turned him down ( this will come be important later). He told me deeper thing about their beliefs because he was very close with Clinton.

He had told me many things about their beliefs, and at this time I would also watching videos that came out : they are kjvrs only, they are heavily against the trinity and the Catholic Church ( they think they are the mystery Babylon), they think that medication and therapy are evil, dinosaurs never existed, Solomon is in hell, masturbation was allowed (you just couldn’t watch corn) and I found this out more later in the timeline, men can have more than one wife at a time and some men didn’t allow their wives to call them by their first name , rather lord or sir out of respect . At the time a lot of this stuff made sense the way it was explained, but at the same time I could that some of the stuff was not expedient so I would stop watching his videos and tried to focus more reading but I would feel guilty about it.

Later on I found that someone took their own life. I only met the guy once, and shortly after was told not to speak to him because he was going off into other doctrines and I was young in the faith so I didn’t talk to him but it was really sad to hear about him passing, the only thing was I wasn’t supposed to know and it was kept from me for two weeks after it happened, I was told while in the phone with my sweetheart (someone i was courting ) at the time. My relationship with the guy did last it broke me for a while though, and I was already having doubts about my faith due the incident, it was already 3 months, and there was a sister I was close to that was hurt the most due to how long he knew him.

I tried to take my life, there was so much going on at that time, but I started to distance myself from people for a while so I could get better and long story short I rushed into a “marriage “ which by there standards can be done by saying a little prayer , a small vow and then having sex. You can have a ceremony and things if you want but for the most part not a lot of people did that. (I’m not going to go through that part of the story publicly but if you have read this far you can message me)

I started to come out of their “brainwashing” after a family friend died and because she believed in the trinity they would kinda say she would be in hell, after that I started to have seek more information about who I was listening to , I actually came across two post on Reddit about this cult and I started to see that people were being emotionally manipulated

Most of the members of course come in like me in their last hopes of life or just seeking more, some have mental health issues (but from what I read a lot due with a few having autism) I have a bag of issues myself. The leader is a ex convict who is convinced God came to him and told him he was gonna be his prophet but later explaining it in a way of him preaching the word of God ( which explains his username) there has been a few instances of physical abuse of some of the women, they also have a men’s only group chat which I just think is very weird and lowkey sketchy (I think the women did have this but not all sisters joined because most were wives and didn’t have time) there was a lot, im sorry maybe this was too much im just sharing my story but ever since getting out i obviously have alot of trust issues with people and churches , there has been times where just because I’ve been struggling so much in my faith I’ve wanted to go back (because my faith was very strong at this time) of course though I would never.

If you ever come across his account just report it, hopefully be stop listening to his doctrine, it clearly has done more harm than good.

Podcast Host Vincent Morgan and his mom Becky all 'grew up' in what would be considered a cult. Morgan and her husband, Dennis, have shared a loving marriage for 49 years. Together, they have built a large and vibrant family, raising five sons and enjoying the blessings of 11 grandchildren and one great-grandchild. Born in Michigan, Becky’s life journey has taken her across the country. She spent four years in California, followed by 31 years in a Christian community in Missouri, before eventually settling in Florida in 2010. Her story is anything but conventional, shaped by unique experiences and meaningful transitions. The host of the Angels and Demons podcast hopes that sharing his mother’s journey will inspire and positively impact his audience. Follow Becky’s journey through Michigan, California, Missouri & Florida. 

Hello. I've made a few posts in this subreddit before so I figured I might as well get my story out.

When I was about four years old, my parents started taking me to these places on sundays we called the "exercise place." I don't remember a whole lot from those days but I got assimilated to the structure pretty quickly. It was authoritarian religious paramilitary style. We learned drills, martial arts, yoga, positions and many other things. We also would have "lectures" that started out as stories regarding religion and discipline before delving into more conservative and group think kind of topics. At the time, I was too young to notice anything wrong, and I grew up believing it was normal.

There were alternating "leaders" depending on the year or sometimes the month that ran the whole thing and were to be treated with the utmost respect. But the real leader was the guy who created the cult that had died years before. Every month we'd put up his picture and worship him, we were taught about him as if he was some sort of god, a genius. When I did my own research, I learned that he gained inspiration from fascist Italy and had ties to generals that worked and admired Nazi germany. Other then that, the whole organization was represented with a flag which we had to worship and treat like a god. No exceptions.

Once you hit six months you are expected to go to these camps during winter break. Here you would go through ten days of exhaustive rituals and activities for about 16 hours a day. Everything was controlled, our sleep, our food, our thoughts, all of it. When you become a teenager you need to attend three of these over the span of three years. On the second camp I lost my period. The third camp was the worst, I developed cPTSD from those ten days. At one point we had to sleep on the dirty ground of a garage. I look back and realize now that I probably should've seen having our phones taken away and being tossed into a black van as a red flag. I could go on and on about that place.

Despite it all, I loved it, or I thought I did. I have made many friends from this place and I loved them dearly, I still do. But even then, I felt a bit odd about the whole thing. We weren't supposed to tell outsiders what we did because they would "think we are a cult." (Gee I wonder why) And once I learned our "leaders" supported some not so great people, I began to question more.

One day, hesitantly, I started doing my own research. My whole world flipped. Articles upon news stories about how the group was rooted in fascism and coercive control. Lawsuits involving lobbying, sexual harassment, endangerment and money obtained from seemingly out of nowhere. I was absolutely distraught as the pieces began to click in my mind.

When I brung this up to the others they got upset. They said I "owed" them, it was my responsibility and I can't leave since I'd been apart of it for so long. I was heartbroken to have to cut contact with them, but slowly, I did, and now I seem to mostly be in the clear. But I truly won't be free until I leave and go to college. And even then they still might haunt me, they're everywhere.

There's alot of detail going into this but this is the whole thing in a nutshell.