At 15 years of age, after attending many summer pre-candidacy programs, I
officially became a pre-candidate. I was eager to begin my formation as a young woman
whose sole purpose was to try to grow in grace and sanctity. With the eagerness of
youth, I threw myself into the program, divulging my thoughts and actions without
question in spiritual direction. And so began my discovery of Godʼs Will.
I was told to distance myself from those around me and to be detached from all worldly
things. If I felt the least attachment to clothes or the way I looked, I was told that I was
full of vanity which needed to be eradicated. If I questioned why we did certain activities
or even why they occurred at the time they did, I was told that was my deep-seated
pride which needed uprooting. The continual need to find fault with each and every
action and report my failings not only to my confessor but often to my spiritual director
and sometimes even peers created a deep sense of insecurity and self loathing.
The Regnum Christi Movement implemented several activities to find and express oneʼs
faults to the point of creating a scrupulous conscience. More importantly, the danger
that persists is that you begin to have a disgust for yourself. Especially for a child, this
can become the way that they see themselves their whole life. Combined with no
emotional connection to family or friends, and a life controlled by a strict schedule, many
turn to other ways of control such as bulemia/annorexia of which I began a battle during
that year. Never did we dwell on the idea that we should love and respect ourselves
because we are made in His image or that God loved us completely including our faults.
Instead we were asked to rid ourselves of our faults in order to be loved by Him.
! A vital flaw within Regnum Christi is the separation from the family. As parents,
we are entrusted with our children and they are placed under our authority and care. It
is very hard to find a parent who does not intrinsically love their child and want only
good for their child. The Movement sought to disrupt and usurp the natural parent child
relationship replacing it instead with a distrust between the child and his/her parent. For
me, throughout my childhood, I saw my parents sacrificing everything for my well-being.
Before they made decisions for me, I knew that they prayed and discerned Godʼs will for
me. As my parents, they were given the authority and grace by God to discern what was
best for me because they loved me. My parents could tell that something was not right
when I told them that I was certain that I was going to give my life to Christ as a
Consecrated. This would be the same concern any parent would have if your 15 year
old told you they were going to be married in a year. My parents told me that I needed to
come home for my last year of highschool before making that step. I wasnʼt sure what to
think, but it became very clear in spiritual direction. This was the moment when the
warning bells went off in my head. I was told that my parents did not know what Godʼs
will for me was. That they were trying to take me away from my vocation; that I should
resist their decisions. Iʼll never forget the clarity of my thoughts when this was
suggested. I knew I was my parentʼs daughter and under their authority. More
importantly I knew they loved me no matter how full of faults I was. They wanted what
was best for me and that was really Godʼs will. This was the first time I had resisted
anything in spiritual direction. Maybe it was because it was no longer me that was the
“problem” but my parents. It was easier to stick up for others than oneself.
The Regnum Christi movement is dangerous because they demand that you subject
yourself to the “will of God” as proposed by an inexperienced spiritual director who
cannot themselves offer more than the mind games they have been indoctrinated with.
This brings me to what I find to be a fundamentally divisive view within the Movement:
The idea that Godʼs will is not what makes you happy, but the ultimate sacrifice that you
have to do please Him. This idea rejects the fundamental Truth that God is Love. It
perpetuates the notion that we are bound by rules simply to avoid punishment and
misery. Godʼs will is not a path we are forced to follow, but a path that he presents to us
so that we can CHOOSE to follow to find the Truth and peace and ultimately happiness.
Yes, there are sacrifices, or crosses, that will happen along those paths, but God is
there to provide the grace to grow and be sanctified in them. The subtle distinction that
was never mentioned in Regnum Christi is that our vocation is not supposed to be a
cross. Choosing to be married or becoming a priest, nun or consecrated in itself should
be joyful and without the fear of being punished by Him if we turned away from it. I used
to think that being a consecrated or a nun would be the ultimate sacrifice, the hardest
thing in life. Therefore, because it was hardest and thus would be a cross, I needed to
sacrifice myself for Godʼs will. We are not meant to choose a life that will make us
miserable like virgins preparing to be sacrificed to a pagan god. God gives us a vocation
in which we can find happiness. It took years for me to finally realize that Godʼs will is
not to make you miserable. His will for us is a path to bring us closer to Him so we can
discover how much He loves us.
Finally, I have not been as affected by Regnum Christi as some others, but I have seen
first hand many who have suffered greatly. For this reason, I am writing this letter. I think
it is important to voice my story to make clear how the loss of faith and despair is a
direct result of the scandal of Fr. Maciel and other priests within the Movement and the
measures used to attain and grow the “kingdom” on earth. Regnum Christi deceptively
attaches itself to the church. Many people have pointed to “all the good fruit that has
come from the Movement.” That is not the way to look at it. Christ never said “ Just pick
out the bad fruit and look at the good fruit thatʼs left then youʼll know itʼs from Me.” No, if
He is truly present in an order, there can be only good fruit. I firmly believe that the good
that came out of our situations was Godʼs grace working and answering the prayers of
those young girls and boys, men and women, crying to out to Him to show us His will.
God can bring such good out of such evil. People can be deceitful, but God never can.
Strangely enough the greatest gift that I received from this environment of deception
was trust. I learned to trust in the only thing that does not change, God Himself. Over
the years, while I struggled to build up my confidence and regain a sense of self worth, I
could throw myself completely in the arms of Christ knowing that He would heal my
insecurities. He guided me through life to a point where I am happily married and a
mother. Finding Godʼs will in my life has brought its many struggles and will continue to
bring many more, but it is my ultimate joy in life as it is the path towards Him.
Monday, June 25, 2012
Saturday, June 23, 2012
Pages
We have put two new pages on the blog - they're linked at the top. One is a glossary of terms, which we will continue to update in response to your comments of confusion. RC has it's own language. The other page is an account of our ongoing effort to prevent the consecrated of Immaculate Conception Academy from recruiting young girls to the Precandidacy through Facebook. Click over and check them out - both are worth your time.
Friday, June 22, 2012
Two are better than one; because they have a good reward for their labour.
If you'd like to do something to prevent Regnum Christi from marketing the Precandidacy to children, visit their Facebook page, Immaculate Conception Academy, and leave a comment with your thoughts about the school. They're deleting any comments that don't construe ICA through the magically rosy prism of Regnum Christi, but why not keep them busy for a while, wearing out their backspace buttons?
Thursday, June 21, 2012
M's Story
This letter was given to Bishop Ricardo
Watty Urquidi in Mexico City in February of 2010 during the
visitation of the Legion. Bishop Watty also listened very patiently
to my story and in a private aside, told me how sorry he was for what
I went through. For personal reasons, I am withholding my name from
this document as I do not want my life to be linked to Regnum Christi
on the internet anymore, but I can be reached by means of this blog
and will happily confirm my identity and the details contained
within. I am so grateful to the other precandidates and consecrated
who have shared their stories as it has filled me with great peace to
know that after all these years we are finally supporting each other
and able to say what we really think. I am sad when I think that we
suffered so much in silence, isolated from each other by the rules
regarding silence and not having friendships.
February, 2010
Your Excellency:
I have been pondering
this letter for about a week since I knew I would have the
opportunity to present this letter to you, and my mind began to fill
with ideas and emotions. I have written so many stories about the
pain and suffering Regnum Christi left in my life, an anguish so
severe that I tried to take my own life. I’m sure you don’t have
time to read the screenplay that I created to express in story form
what I went through as a member of the Third Degree of Regnum
Christi. Or the 150 pages I wrote about my “vocation story” while
I was recovering from my overdose. Or the numerous short stories and
articles that I composed in moments of therapeutic renewal. Long
before I was convinced by the consecrated women that being
consecrated was the only true vocation to happiness, I knew that my
vocation in life was to be a writer. So let me poetically give you
the numbers that may be the most effective way of expressing the
depth of the loss and utter devastation that was my life as a
consecrated member.
0 – the number of
members of my family still in the Movement
0 – the number of
consecrated who called me and wrote me to see how I was doing once I
got home from Mexico. That is also the number of events they invited
me to. I tried to start a Regnum Christi group at my college so they
would include me, but after crying at one retreat, I never came back.
My former directress, Pilar, did all that she could to help me, but I
was bound by my Promises of Charity not to speak badly of my
spiritual guide, even though I was being psychologically destroyed
0 – my clinical
depression before consecration in Regnum Christi. During my second
year, we were given MMPIs (the Minnesota Multiphasic Personality
Inventory) and made to draw psychoanalytic images. Not surprisingly,
I drew a weeping willow tree, a classic symbol of depression, and my
MMPI scores were higher than I ever saw when working in a clinical
practice
0 – the amount of
writing opportunities I was given as a consecrated
0 – the number of times
I was able to come home while I was a consecrated member until I left
1 – the number of times
I read the Statutes even though my then spiritual guide told me it
was not necessary, that the ones about finances were not important to
know. I also read the complete Manual of Principles and Norms and the
lesser known Manual de Urbanidad which talked about how to walk, how
to dress, how to hold one’s spoon, etc. We were told that all of
those documents represented God’s will for us and were approved by
the Church
2 – the years I spent
in the Precandidacy when my Dad let me go after 2 years as I was so
crazed by my supposed vocation and all the brainwashing I received
about true happiness only being with “God’s Will” and their
promises about their happiness that I broke a window
2 – the number of
people I was allowed to say goodbye to when I left consecrated life.
They were from another section and so they didn’t know I was
leaving for good and I couldn’t tell them for “charity.” I just
said, “goodbye” when they dropped me off at the airport. My
directresses did not say goodbye or hug me either. One supervised my
packing and never said anything like a goodbye or “I will miss
you.” Another saw me in the chapel before I went to the airport and
did not say a word.
2 – the number of my
sisters’ weddings that I had to miss even though my family offered
to pay for my trip as I was not allowed to attend as a consecrated
member. One sister still does not forgive for not having asked for
“special permission” to go. I was so faithful to the norms that I
would not ask to be considered different from other members.
2 – the number of
people I told about how suicidal I was as a consecrated: my spiritual
guide and my Mom. My spiritual guide continued to emotionally abuse
me by constantly picking on every weakness I had. My Mom told me that
I probably had an illness called depression and it could be treated
with medication and therapy. My spiritual guide was very angry and
since my Mom knew I was unwell, they told me they had to send me
home. In retrospect, that person was probably trying to follow the
rules of the Movement, but they were harmful to me and left deep
wounds on my psyche for many years that followed.
2 – the amount of
people in my family who no longer consider themselves Catholic as a
result of seeing horrible hypocrisy in the Legion of Christ and
Regnum Christi. Yes, I am one of them.
2 – the number of years
it took for the Movement to send me my transcripts from my years of
formation so that I could graduate from college after leaving. I had
to threaten to sue them before they would tell me where I could get
my transcripts, and they tried to charge me exorbitant sums for what
most schools consider a free service
3 – the number of
children in my family that they managed to convince they had a
vocation to the Movement or the Legion
3 – the Third Degree of
Regnum Christi. We were told that we were like St. Claire to St.
Francis, the modern “nuns” to the Legion. Please pay attention to
these women who have always gone ignored and will continue to be
ignored unless you hear their stories. Many of them are good women
who have been brainwashed and used to become recruiting and
fundraising machines
3 – the amount of
vocations the Church lost from my family due to bad experiences with
Regnum Christi and the Legion of Christ
4 – years. how long I
spent as a Precandidate and consecrated member
4 – the Private
Promises that we made on August 22, 2000 in the presence of Fr.
Anthony Bannon, L.C., which we also signed a form for
4 – 4.0 out of 4.0. my
Master’s level GPA
5 - the steps of
recruitment. I still remember them after 8 years. Friendship,
Interest, Trust, Commitment, Surrender. Regnum Christi uses “redes”
or nets to recruit people. They hide under other names and earn
people’s friendship. Then, one piqued their interest in the
Movement. Eventually, after one won their trust, one had to gain
their surrender to “God’s will for them” which surely was
Regnum Christi, because, as they explained, Regnum Christi was so
wonderful. I spent many years in the Movement before I learned these
steps as a consecrated. It was then that I realized I had been
deceived and this was something totally different than what I had
signed up for. I gradually realized I was being pressured to do 2
things – recruit and fundraise – and I had never wanted to do
that with my life
5 – minutes. the
average amount of free time we had in between each activity so that
we were unable to have time to think or for self-reflection
5 – the years for which
I endured traumatic flashbacks in which things that I had dissociated
came back to me suddenly in a terrifying way
6 – the number of girls
in my Precandidacy class who got consecrated. I think one might still
be consecrated, but I am not sure. The rest are all out. One girl in
our class was anorexic and the rest of the girls began to eat as
little as possible. When she was in the hospital, I overhead the
directress of the school telling the priest not to give her Communion
unless she ate
7 – the age at which I
remember the Movement first in my life
7 – the number of days
I spent under medications after my overdose while the doctors saved
my life. My life was saved because as I was about to die from
internal bleeding, I received a picture in my head that I could not
die because there existed the possibility that I could have a family
and a happy life as a writer. Because of that possibility, I was
taken to the hospital
8 – the number of years
I have spent in psychotherapy recovering from the Movement, beginning
at 3 times a week and gradually going down to once a week when I
could hold off my depression that long
9- the age at which they
began to recruit me. Please note that I was not at an age in which
children have yet developed complex reasoning
9 –the number of years
my brother lasted in the Legion
10 – the number of
pounds I lost when I got the rotavirus after telling my spiritual
guide that I didn’t understand how the Movement would fulfill its
mission if all we did was work in schools and she told me that I was
talking like an enemy of the Movement. My directress ordered me to
gain back the weight over the next months but I was so depressed I
was barely able to chew food
11 – the number of
books of Green Volumes or Cartas de Nuestro Padre we had to meditate
on during Evening Prayer
12- the age at which I
felt called to the Precandidacy, or boarding school for girls
discerning consecrated life
12- the number of
spiritual guides I had throughout my time in the Movement. Often, it
was pure torture because they were chosen for me, and only Maricarmen
Perochena really liked me as a person. My spiritual guide during my
second year of consecrated life emotionally abused me because of my
“pride” until I became suicidal
13- the age at which my
Dad allowed my brother to enter the Apostolic School after long
disagreeing with Fr. Bannon, the then Territorial Director of the US,
and the head of the Apostolic School about how boys were separated
from their families as being non-Catholic in spirit
14- my older brother’s
age when upon the story of another then-Apostolic they witnessed a
Legionary at the bed of a third Apostolic at night
15 – the number of
ReGAIN members, more or less, who comforted me and guided me when I
was the Movement’s garbage and had no one to give me insight into
my situation. I was given the equivalent of free therapy, many great
friends, and healing
16 – my younger
sister’s age when she spent a semester at the Precandidacy in Rhode
Island
17 – my age when I made
a spiritual consecrated approved by my spiritual guide in the chapel
in Rhode Island
20 – the amount of
visits I made to the Blessed Sacrament every day for which I was
constantly sent back to clean my room and make my bed better because
you can’t have both
24- my age when I
accepted that I had been badly treated by the Movement and left to
die of depression by them. I decided not to die, but to live and to
find a new meaning in my life even though I could not imagine
anything outside of consecrated life
26 – July 26, 2002, the
day I flew home from Monterrey, Mexico so suicidal I could no longer
think clearly, but so integrated into what being consecrated meant
that I could not help myself from recruiting members on the airplane
28 – the number of days
a year I was allowed to spend at home as a Precandidate. My Dad was
especially upset that we were never allowed to come home until the
day after Christmas
30 – the number of
students that were in the 6th grade class I gave Spiritual
Direction to in Monterrey as we started to recruit them to
consecrated life. I feel guilty as I remember their names and their
faces and afraid of what the Movement might have done to them in
their futures
40 – the number of
times I estimate that I wrote to Maciel in Rome over the years. I’m
sure it was more, and I actually got some 4 or 5 letters back from
somebody praising my fidelity. I often wonder what kind brother wrote
that to me and what inspired him to feel pity for me
150 – the number of
Aspirin I took on Sept. 11, 2003 when I could no longer bear the
thought that happiness could never be mine as I was not good enough
to be consecrated
500 – the cost of the
airline flight home when I was suicidal which the consecrated ordered
my parents to pay for. They gave me $50 to take in case I needed to
buy food and instructed me to return the rest of the money and the
suitcase upon my arrival to my home. They also looked over my clothes
and books and told me what I could take home. I was advised to leave
as many clothes as possible so other consecrated could use them and
only allowed to bring back my personal journals and letters from
Maciel. When I got back home, I had a mostly empty suitcase and no
clothes to wear at home since I had last been living at home at age
15, and not a cent to my name. All of my savings had been spent as a
teenager going to conventions and retreats.
2,000 – the amount of
money I was expected to obtain as a consecrated to fund the mandatory
trip to Rome in 2001
2,921 – the number of
days in 8 years. how many nightmares I estimate that I have had since
leaving consecrated life as symptoms of Post-traumatic stress
disorder. I have one that I remember about once a week, so it would
be safe to say that I have one every night during the other dreams
that I don’t remember.
8,000 – probably a low
guess for what my parents paid for my overdose hospital bills. I
don’t know how much it costs to save someone’s life, but
considering half of my blood was replaced, I guess a lot.
10,000 – a very low
estimate as to the amount of money my parents gave to the Legion of
Christ. If you count $5,000 a year for each one of us children, as
what the Legion requested for school years and later as full-time
members, it would probably be at least $60,000 USD. How much of that
money was spent to fund Maciel’s sexual escapades or will be given
to his sons? Did any of that money go to pay for our formation?
17,280 – an estimate of
how much I personally have paid into 8 years of therapy plus gasoline
and parking, plus all that my parents have put in. I would guess it
surpassed $40,000. Try going to school full-time, working full-time
while depressed, and paying living expenses, school, and therapy
while it is a struggle every day just to figure out if you want to be
alive. The consecrated told me I would not regret giving Christ the
first chance, and he turned out to be a nice person, but I most
definitely regret giving Regnum Christi the first chance in my life
? – the number of
papers I signed when I left promising not to reveal secrets about the
Movement and not to speak badly of it. At least, I think that was
what it said but I was so suicidal I mostly just signed as I was
incapable of understanding the forms
Thousands – the number
of girls still involved with Regnum Christi and the Third Degree who
are being used, brainwashed and manipulated into thinking their
lifestyle is the only true way to happiness, that Marcial Maciel was
a living saint who brought God’s message to them, and that Regnum
Christi is the only true path to holiness for them. I hold constant
sadness in my heart for these women and I can only hope that the
Church may free them from this terrible situation.
Dear Bishop, I came out
of Regnum Christi suicidal, depressed with dissociation and symptoms
of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. I am not alone. Many young girls
have been tossed out of consecrated life like garbage, just as I was,
and left without guidance, support, or any sort of help in creating a
new life. I do not believe that I was called by God to that life. I
believe that I was brainwashed from the age of nine, and that when
they got what they wanted out of me, I was thrown to the curb. Please
believe that this cannot be a work of God, and it is only from my own
experience of the loving hand of God in my life that I still believe
in him. However, I cannot ever return to a Church that knew about the
horrors within the Movement and chose to ignore it for more than
fifty years, long before I ever would have joined, and could have
prevented me from ever suffering what I did. I cannot return to a
Church where the Pope praised the Movement and Marcial Maciel so many
times in public, which was crucial to my entering and believing in
it, when the evidence about the group was so craftily being hidden.
It is too late to win me back to the Church, but if you act quickly
and deftly, you may still be able to save the faith of others.
Respectfully Yours,
M
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Former Cosecrated
I would like to share one thing with
all the former precandidates, if you are trying to figure out why you
were treated the way you were, I suggest you give up and remember the
following - your formators had NO TRAINING WHATSOEVER on how to help
you be a better person, how to respect your human rights, how to
develop your personal talents or help you discern a vocation. The
only training they were given was how to get you to comply with the
ideals and discipline and how to make you feel God's calling. We
acted as if we were equipped for the task set out for us, and
interpreted attitudes, family background, any silly thing into a
psychological diagnosis, then used that to determine if you had a
vocation or not. Those of you who were told you didn’t have a
vocation probably did not feel the mold of the perfect 3gf or you
weren't easy to brainwash - you thought for yourselves and were not
"docile." If any of you had an obvious best friend, we got
really scared and concluded you did not have a call. If you had a
“particular friendship,” you would be asked to leave, or we would
be overly strict with you so you would decide to leave on your own.
We all definitely thought we were doing God's will. Sometimes
something we said to a PC came directly from a vicedirector or
director who asked us to mention it to a certain PC, sometimes we
didn´t even know why, but we trusted. So, if you feel confused
because you don't understand why someone treated you a certain way
well, this might be 80 or 90% of your answer. No one saw you as an
END, only as a MEANS to benefit the Movement and enlarge the numbers
for the consecrated life. I know, things are changing, there are more
humane rules, etc etc bla bla bla... I am talking about how it was
THEN, before 2009 (maybe 2010). Formation for formators was offered
after they had the job, not before, they were not tested to ensure
they could carry out the task. The lack of training, the youth and
inexperience of the consecrated who were charged with forming you,
and the excessive power we were given, magnified our flaws and
defects and you were the fallout. Just remember, there isn't, nor was
there anything wrong with you girls, and don't worry if you can't
solve the whole puzzle.
We had very clear guidelines on our
role and on how to lead you, but authority was given too much power
and too little responsibility. Everyone was taught to treat those in
authority like little gods and never to question them, correct them
or doubt them. That was unbalanced and made our defects, flaws,
mistakes and egotism influence our actions and attitudes. No one
consciously thought she was damaging the PCs, but I bet many of us
did question if those means were right. Some of us even made
suggestions of changes, but not even the director herself was
listened to.
Every week we sent reports on human and practical matters about the PCs under our care to the vice-director. Every two months, we all put together a report the director sent to the territorial director, informing on each point of the yearly work program for the Precandidacy. And attached "particular cases" of PCs either because of their leadership as future formators or because they were trouble, or their family was trouble, or because we had questions.
Once upon a time, a territorial director came to visit. The topic of one of the meetings was that we realized we had divided PCs in 3 groups (accidentally): "future formators" (leaders, good recruiters or very obedient PC's who influenced others), trouble/issue/always sick/reluctant PCs and THE NORMALS!!! hahahahaha We realized we were not dedicating time or attention to the normals because we had our hands full with all the goals they gave us to form the FF and trying to make peace with the trouble PCs. So we had all these resolutions to attend to the "normals". Believe it or not, if you were on the "normals" list, you are probably not hurting much now, did not feel pressure to leave or stay, we did not worry if you never went for dependence and we did not inform much about you.
One thing I still can't understand is that there was never any sex ed! Perhaps this is why so many have had difficulties with sentimental relationships, emotions, dating and even husbands. Maybe you got that education later on - lucky you! Some left their home at 14 or 15 and went back at 18 or in their 20s. During that time many of your friends had their hearts broken, got sharper at dating, lost naivity and had helpful experiences regarding sexuality (some not helpful at all hahaha). And then the ex-pc arrives home and the whole guy thing gets complicated, she does not know how to handle it. I find the lack of sex ed at the PC and even 3gf life to also be one of the "damaging" aspects, even if we didn't clearly notice it. Some 3gf suggested to higher superiors to include some books on sex education during formation years. The answer was no, it was "imprudent" because, what if they got aroused while reading that information? (yep, my jaw dropped too when I heard the answer).
Every week we sent reports on human and practical matters about the PCs under our care to the vice-director. Every two months, we all put together a report the director sent to the territorial director, informing on each point of the yearly work program for the Precandidacy. And attached "particular cases" of PCs either because of their leadership as future formators or because they were trouble, or their family was trouble, or because we had questions.
Once upon a time, a territorial director came to visit. The topic of one of the meetings was that we realized we had divided PCs in 3 groups (accidentally): "future formators" (leaders, good recruiters or very obedient PC's who influenced others), trouble/issue/always sick/reluctant PCs and THE NORMALS!!! hahahahaha We realized we were not dedicating time or attention to the normals because we had our hands full with all the goals they gave us to form the FF and trying to make peace with the trouble PCs. So we had all these resolutions to attend to the "normals". Believe it or not, if you were on the "normals" list, you are probably not hurting much now, did not feel pressure to leave or stay, we did not worry if you never went for dependence and we did not inform much about you.
One thing I still can't understand is that there was never any sex ed! Perhaps this is why so many have had difficulties with sentimental relationships, emotions, dating and even husbands. Maybe you got that education later on - lucky you! Some left their home at 14 or 15 and went back at 18 or in their 20s. During that time many of your friends had their hearts broken, got sharper at dating, lost naivity and had helpful experiences regarding sexuality (some not helpful at all hahaha). And then the ex-pc arrives home and the whole guy thing gets complicated, she does not know how to handle it. I find the lack of sex ed at the PC and even 3gf life to also be one of the "damaging" aspects, even if we didn't clearly notice it. Some 3gf suggested to higher superiors to include some books on sex education during formation years. The answer was no, it was "imprudent" because, what if they got aroused while reading that information? (yep, my jaw dropped too when I heard the answer).
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
Frances's Story
Thank
you to one and all who have shared your stories so far. I don't know
many of you at all, and others I lived with for three years and still
barely know--but I am truly grateful for this group bringing us closer
together. Funny we've discovered more about each other over the internet
in a month than years of living together.
I was at the PC for 3 years, I left after my junior year. I went to the PC as an escape from my home--my family had just moved, I didn't have friends, and I was depressed. My options were homeschool or PC, so I got the hell out of Dodge.
It's been absolutely amazing and eye-opening to me to think back to the insane life that was the PC. Yet, there we were, tucked back in there, us Russian Princesses and Nuns of Naragganset, better than our peers because we had chosen to give our lives to God. Those other mere mortals were living flamboyant and sinfully pleasurable lives; because wasn't life all about sacrifice and self-denial?
For a group that preached "universal Christian charity" it's amazing to think how much we judged any and all who weren't doing exactly as we were. "Oh, she must not be generous with God, she is going HOME". "Oh did you hear? So and so had fun/danced/got pregnant/etc etc." Seriously?! Who were we to judge or say what God's will was for someone else? We were better somehow for giving our lives to God, others who were called to vocations such as marriage were lesser beings, not capable of the love and devotion we chosen souls were capable of. The hubris of those thoughts disgusts me even as I write it.
That feeling of superiority was only escalated in those horrific team balances. I honestly can't for the life of me think of what could possibly have been said between us docile and charitable PCs, but I'm going to bet that absolutely everything that was said was petty and overly scrupulous. For what? To ruin the shred of self-worth we may have felt that week?
Everything was so calculated so as to look perfect, yet hearing the common themes of depression, eating disorders, and low self esteem rampant at the PC, that very façade takes on an eerily sinister note. I'm sure the majority of our parents thought they were doing us a favor sending us to such a "prestigious institution", yet what message were they getting? Clearly not an accurate one. The silence amongst ourselves only masked the truth, a show of happiness cleverly hidden under strict norms.
How is it that 80 girls could live so close together, do absolutely everything together for years, and yet know so little about each other? I think we were only allowed to speak a total of about 30 minutes a day, maybe less. The rest of the time we walked about like drones, taking in what we were told we could take in, nothing more, nothing less.
The very essence of what it means to be a human, to have the freedom to choose was taken away and put inside the tightest of boxes: the schedule. Every minute of every day was planned out, to the point that if you got constipated, good luck. Your free time didn't allow enough time to remedy that problem.
I remember one year after final exams, going outside and yelling FREEEEDOOMMMM (braveheart style) with a couple other PC's. We earned a intolerably long lecture about the inappropriateness of such behavior. We were teenagers, for Christ's sake.
Any type of creativity or originality was stifled under the pretext of "God's will", an all encompassing mandate I have come to loathe. A God who is a God of love would not want so many of us to be in constant physical and mental pain. I remember going to the doctor at one point, because I couldn't run on account of intense back pain. He told me he'd never seen a back so bad, especially on someone so young. "Why?" I asked. "Stress", he replied.
No kidding. The weight of constantly trying to achieve an unattainable level of perfection taxed our bodies to the max. I distinctly remember telling Heidi I was going to leave after the school year ended, and walking out of her office and down the long hallway. It was like a weight was lifted off my shoulders. I had no idea until that moment that something internal could be felt so dramatically, so distinctly.
It took a long time for me to realize after leaving the PC that it is perfectly ok, dare I say normal, to sit back and relax. I don't think there was ever time to unwind in our schedule. Instead we were frantically going from one thing to another, spinning the hamster wheel faster and faster not even realizing we were going nowhere.
I absolutely shudder when I think of the life I led in high school. I've blocked much of it out. All I wanted was a "normal" high school life, with crushes and dances and extracurriculars and freedom. I know I've rambled on, but there are a few things I'd like to make clear. One, I'm so grateful to know each one of you, as well or as little as I do. We went through a type of hell together, and lived to tell the tale. Thank you for your friendship and support. And two, freedom has become my life mantra. I'm a firm believer in doing what you want in life, and being HAPPY. Life is too short to live otherwise. I wish you all happiness in your lives.
I had a nightmare the other night that I was back at the PC, and was being shuttled from activity and prayer then more prayer and activity. Then I stopped. And said no, I won't do it. And just left. It felt almost as freeing as the day I actually did.
I was at the PC for 3 years, I left after my junior year. I went to the PC as an escape from my home--my family had just moved, I didn't have friends, and I was depressed. My options were homeschool or PC, so I got the hell out of Dodge.
It's been absolutely amazing and eye-opening to me to think back to the insane life that was the PC. Yet, there we were, tucked back in there, us Russian Princesses and Nuns of Naragganset, better than our peers because we had chosen to give our lives to God. Those other mere mortals were living flamboyant and sinfully pleasurable lives; because wasn't life all about sacrifice and self-denial?
For a group that preached "universal Christian charity" it's amazing to think how much we judged any and all who weren't doing exactly as we were. "Oh, she must not be generous with God, she is going HOME". "Oh did you hear? So and so had fun/danced/got pregnant/etc etc." Seriously?! Who were we to judge or say what God's will was for someone else? We were better somehow for giving our lives to God, others who were called to vocations such as marriage were lesser beings, not capable of the love and devotion we chosen souls were capable of. The hubris of those thoughts disgusts me even as I write it.
That feeling of superiority was only escalated in those horrific team balances. I honestly can't for the life of me think of what could possibly have been said between us docile and charitable PCs, but I'm going to bet that absolutely everything that was said was petty and overly scrupulous. For what? To ruin the shred of self-worth we may have felt that week?
Everything was so calculated so as to look perfect, yet hearing the common themes of depression, eating disorders, and low self esteem rampant at the PC, that very façade takes on an eerily sinister note. I'm sure the majority of our parents thought they were doing us a favor sending us to such a "prestigious institution", yet what message were they getting? Clearly not an accurate one. The silence amongst ourselves only masked the truth, a show of happiness cleverly hidden under strict norms.
How is it that 80 girls could live so close together, do absolutely everything together for years, and yet know so little about each other? I think we were only allowed to speak a total of about 30 minutes a day, maybe less. The rest of the time we walked about like drones, taking in what we were told we could take in, nothing more, nothing less.
The very essence of what it means to be a human, to have the freedom to choose was taken away and put inside the tightest of boxes: the schedule. Every minute of every day was planned out, to the point that if you got constipated, good luck. Your free time didn't allow enough time to remedy that problem.
I remember one year after final exams, going outside and yelling FREEEEDOOMMMM (braveheart style) with a couple other PC's. We earned a intolerably long lecture about the inappropriateness of such behavior. We were teenagers, for Christ's sake.
Any type of creativity or originality was stifled under the pretext of "God's will", an all encompassing mandate I have come to loathe. A God who is a God of love would not want so many of us to be in constant physical and mental pain. I remember going to the doctor at one point, because I couldn't run on account of intense back pain. He told me he'd never seen a back so bad, especially on someone so young. "Why?" I asked. "Stress", he replied.
No kidding. The weight of constantly trying to achieve an unattainable level of perfection taxed our bodies to the max. I distinctly remember telling Heidi I was going to leave after the school year ended, and walking out of her office and down the long hallway. It was like a weight was lifted off my shoulders. I had no idea until that moment that something internal could be felt so dramatically, so distinctly.
It took a long time for me to realize after leaving the PC that it is perfectly ok, dare I say normal, to sit back and relax. I don't think there was ever time to unwind in our schedule. Instead we were frantically going from one thing to another, spinning the hamster wheel faster and faster not even realizing we were going nowhere.
I absolutely shudder when I think of the life I led in high school. I've blocked much of it out. All I wanted was a "normal" high school life, with crushes and dances and extracurriculars and freedom. I know I've rambled on, but there are a few things I'd like to make clear. One, I'm so grateful to know each one of you, as well or as little as I do. We went through a type of hell together, and lived to tell the tale. Thank you for your friendship and support. And two, freedom has become my life mantra. I'm a firm believer in doing what you want in life, and being HAPPY. Life is too short to live otherwise. I wish you all happiness in your lives.
I had a nightmare the other night that I was back at the PC, and was being shuttled from activity and prayer then more prayer and activity. Then I stopped. And said no, I won't do it. And just left. It felt almost as freeing as the day I actually did.
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
Thoughts on Spiritual Direction
When I was
there, in 2009, we had been told that the directors would no longer give
spiritual direction. I didn't find out until later (not from the LC
communique) that part of the indication,
in keeping with canon law, was that we were to have freedom in choosing
our own spiritual guides and that they didn't have to be from the
Movement. When I was there, the spiritual guides were still assigned,
and were from the same team of directors, even though your SD wouldn't
be your personal director. Also we were to continue going to "formation
dialogue" with the director, and there seemed to be no difference
whatsoever between spiritual direction and formation dialogue. We were
still clearly told in directives, etc. to tell the director everything
in complete openness, and that spiritual guidance was just there from
the Church as "additional support." We were also told in directives that
there was no change in spirit, and that in practice what we had been
doing with the director as SD was correct - we had just been using the
wrong terminology and were to begin calling it formation dialogue. From
my current understanding, that wasn't exactly what the Holy See meant
when it sent the indication to change that practice... So I'm not sure
that I would agree that it was "well implemented." In the Church, there
is a clear distinction between the role of the director, in terms of
obedience, and the role of the spiritual guide, and that hadn't been
drawn in the Movement yet, and the role of personal freedom in choosing
your spiritual guide had not been implemented, or communicated. It is
possible that it has been changed further since the delegate took
office, because I know one of his points of focus was the matter of
conscience, part of which directly related to the SD/confession issues.
*Spiritual direction has been reformed again in the last year, but many of us feel it is too little, too late.
Harriet's Thoughts
Thinking of the reunion and going back to see friends brings up
something that has always really upset me about my high school
experience. The idea/reality that we couldn't have "particular" friends.
Don't get me wrong, I loved and liked everyone there... but in the real world people do have best/close friends. I believe I really
craved a good close friend in high school. I can't count the number of
times I got pulled into an office to be told not to hang out so much
with one person or another. Those brief moments of escape...jumping on
the back of moving vans with J and A, chatting during
housework in the lab with C... those moments where I felt
I could be a friend were moments I sought out and looked forward to. I
guess not having a close friend just enforced the feeling of being
alone which many other people have also described. Still a bit bitter
about it when I look back at life there, but I also know a lot of the
people I met are true friends even if we never really got to know each
other or share our souls.
Monday, June 4, 2012
Elle's Story
Let
me start by saying that my personality is one that internalizes
everything and when I THINK of the memories from ICA (Immaculate
Conception Academy) I immediately recall all the emotions I was
feeling at the time. Negative experiences tend to be more dominant,
yet I would describe my 3 years at Immaculate Conception Academy as Heaven and Hell - there was
nothing in between, I alternated between incredibly happy and
incredibly miserable.
First I would like
to say that I loved the exposure to an international setting.
Formation-wise I learned a lot about character and human values. I
think my ability to see the good in everyone I meet stems from the
knowledge I have of personalities and living in close quarters with
different types of people and cultures.
Second, as we would all agree, the education, or at least the teachers themselves, were phenomenal! In my opinion, I think our teachers were an example of a different femininity: intellectual, free, strong personalities, wives and mothers and strong Christians. Quite healthy to be around!
Third, my biggest challenge in coping with RC/LC was that my gut was right all along and I allowed myself to be duped. I never liked Fr Maciel, never understood his letters, why he was glorified, why we meditated on his heart and mind, but regardless of my misgivings, I hopped on that bandwagon. I questioned norms and practices but I believed when I was told it was God’s Will. Which now takes me to my major beef and this is where personality comes into play. How dare anyone take underage, impressionable girls out of house and home and impose ARBITRARY, thoughtless practices and tell them it is God’s Will? Mixing eternal salvation and dish washing? I truly felt that God’s love for me and my self worth were in exact congruency with the responsibilities I had been given. Clearly, not the right environment for anyone that tends toward scrupulousness. I never acted out, I rarely disobeyed, my motivation was completely on guilt. If Christ died on the cross for me, shouldn’t I suffer as well?
Second, as we would all agree, the education, or at least the teachers themselves, were phenomenal! In my opinion, I think our teachers were an example of a different femininity: intellectual, free, strong personalities, wives and mothers and strong Christians. Quite healthy to be around!
Third, my biggest challenge in coping with RC/LC was that my gut was right all along and I allowed myself to be duped. I never liked Fr Maciel, never understood his letters, why he was glorified, why we meditated on his heart and mind, but regardless of my misgivings, I hopped on that bandwagon. I questioned norms and practices but I believed when I was told it was God’s Will. Which now takes me to my major beef and this is where personality comes into play. How dare anyone take underage, impressionable girls out of house and home and impose ARBITRARY, thoughtless practices and tell them it is God’s Will? Mixing eternal salvation and dish washing? I truly felt that God’s love for me and my self worth were in exact congruency with the responsibilities I had been given. Clearly, not the right environment for anyone that tends toward scrupulousness. I never acted out, I rarely disobeyed, my motivation was completely on guilt. If Christ died on the cross for me, shouldn’t I suffer as well?
Here
is a little more detail of my story…I was a Precandidate from
2000-2003, As
a spiritually sensitive individual, I ate up everything that was
told to me, every standard, every norm etc. I “drank the kool-aid” so to
speak or rather chugged it. From the young age of 15,
I was always told that I would be a great member to the third degree
(consecrated) and I was made class leader, team leader, sent on
retreats etc. I'm sure the responsibility was given to me because it
was easy to see I was putty. I would do whatever was asked of me, and
if I couldn't do it, I felt like a failure and internalized
everything. My senior year after a class trip to Mexico, I realized
that I needed to make my own decisions and I would not get
consecrated because it was someone else's wish for me. In Spiritual
Guidance I said, "I think God wants me to go home." I was
told to not make a decision so soon, continue to pray etc. I was so
SOO nervous about this because I thought that if I went home without
"approval" that it was disobedience, I would be damned to
hell, turn away from my vocation, Rich Young Man, all that jazz.
Another important thing to note was that my body could not function
on its own, I was seeing a GI specialist to figure out why I had such
violent heartburn, after the endoscopy I was diagnosed with GERDS and I was given
the best medication available, and the doctor said most of his
patients feel 90% better in three weeks. I was following every
recommendation on the pamphlet, I was sleeping on bricks in the sense
that my bed was elevated to a 30 degree angle, I ate snacks during
the day and not meals to help with my digestion, I eliminated coffee,
gum, ham and chocolate (yes chocolate!?!?!?!?). Meanwhile back to
PC life, more Spiritual Guidance, more prayer, more me worrying about
my life and God's plan and entertaining the possibility that maybe
misery is what God wants for me. Days
before graduation, I finally got the OK I was looking for in
Spiritual Guidance, sorta..."If you think God wants you to go
home I cannot stop you, but I see nothing impeding you from the
consecrated life...and if you go home and realize it is not for you,
you can come back to the candidacy" If I could hit the rewind
button 3 times in my life, I would use it then and have so many
colorful things to say. "You see nothing impeding me? How about
that fact that I can't eat a meal without stomach bile being launched
into my throat? How about I cry every time I'm corrected because I
feel like a disappointment to God? Maybe the idea that I have no self
esteem would be an impediment? Later I told one of the
other consecrated of my plans and she was joyful and hugged
me. It was such a relief - I felt more comfortable with my decision and
less like I had turned my back on God. Side note, this same woman
would always be there to give me the boost that I needed. One time
she very descriptively had me picture my worries and one by one knock
them down with my bazooka or something very Rambo-esque. It was so
refreshing to be around her humor and to know that she understood
that I DID try hard. What I needed was help to be an 18 year old girl,
to step outside the introspection and to laugh at myself versus
encouraging me to nitpick at my every behavior.
Finally
going home, I thought was going to be an “apostle” and evangelize
people, while working to afford college and try to live with my
parents and family again. A topic for another day, but let’s just say I again felt like a failure and in some ways lived up to this
expectation. In my parents’ eyes I left at 15 and came how 3
years later still 15. We weren’t a good combination. By the way
stomach ailments were gone within 2 weeks, and the doctor said it was "lifestyle"
induced. I felt very lost not being able to see God’s plan for me
in black and white, literally in black and white…at ICA our
schedule for the day was printed and posted and we were told it was
God’s will. I didn’t know how to deal with boys, dating,
coworkers, college, drinking, drugs, or conflicts with friends. What
was I good at? What were my strengths? (Don’t worry I had my
weaknesses down, I could recite them in LITANY format)
How do I balance a checkbook? How do I know what I am doing is right
if I am not asking permission? Friends that understood my situation
lived 3,000 miles away and the phone calls helped me get through. I
was proud of myself for trying to make it on my own, to rid myself of
the structure and rigidity of the Precandidacy but the emotional and
spiritual marks still existed (exist?) below the surface.
Everyone
knows that high school is the coming of age era filled with the joys
and anguish of self discovery. The path of our past is made of
stones that cannot be moved or altered (although by God I wish Doc
Brown and his flux capacitor would take me back) all we control are
the present and future and there with limitations. I could have been
pregnant at 16, done drugs in high school, run away from home etc but
I don’t know that. Instead I went to a small, all girls high
school that I can’t describe to anyone unless they went there and I
can’t think about without strong waves of mixed emotions. Many
changes have been made to accommodate a healthy growing atmosphere
for young girls but I don’t trust a well once poisoned. My way to
self-actualization has been to leave aside the scruples, the
ideologies and the religious agenda. I have been too disillusioned
by Catholic leaders, leaders in Regnum Christi, friends and family
members to give a sh*t anymore. Like all humanity, I believe that my
purpose is to love and be loved…and I will have to do that in my
way and in my time. I have to believe that God knows his sheep, that
he knows me and wants the best for me even if isn’t very “close”
to Him presently. I won’t be guilted into His arms.
Thank
you to all that have taken the time to read my thoughts that I have
never vocalized or said outside of a small circle. Maybe in some way
it has helped you to identify in your life journey, I wish you the
best and safe travels!
Sunday, June 3, 2012
M's Story
Before I joined the Precandidacy, I was
a typical teenage girl beginning to get into a lot of trouble. By the
end of my freshman year at the local Catholic high school, my life
was wrought with constant lying to my parents, belligerence, sneaking
out at night, boy stuff, you name it. I found myself at a summer camp
after my freshman year, meeting Consecrated women and Precandidates
for the first time in my life. I was adamant that I would not enjoy
myself, but was won over by everyone’s joy, the atmosphere of
charity, and I was lured into believing that the Precandidacy was the
best school option for me. Two weeks later I was in the car with my
parents driving to Rhode Island.
The struggle started almost
immediately. The night I made the decision that it was God’s Will
for me to stay in Rhode Island for school, I broke down and sobbed
uncontrollably. It was the hardest decision I had ever made in my
life, to leave my family, my friends, my life as I knew it, and adopt
an entirely different lifestyle in the name of God’s Will. After
the summer program, I spent three days at home to pack up, and drove
back to Rhode Island for good.
The guilt was almost immediate, and
what a heavy load to carry as a 15 year old. I was feeling guilty for
the struggle, guilty that I didn’t entirely want to be there,
guilty that I missed my family and friends and life as I knew it. I
felt guilty for breaking rules like absolute silence in the halls,
listening to my walkman at my closet, having my guy friends write to
me under girl names. But I needed these outlets, little acts of
rebellion, for my own sanity, because the rules were choking me.
God’s Will in my life suddenly went extreme, and I didn’t feel
like I could live up to it perfectly.
There are many wonderful memories of my
more-than-three years as a Precandidate. These memories consist of
the friendships with wonderful girls, outings that gave us a taste of
freedom, pranks and silliness that kept our spirits alive; finding a
personal relationship with Christ, who I knew loved me, Eucharistic
Hours, beautiful singing in the chapel, and more. But there was an
underlying darkness that enveloped my heart all through these years,
and it choked me a little more tightly the closer and closer I got to
the “big decision,” whether I would get consecrated or not. I
felt alone, lonely, confused, weighed down by harsh restrictions,
like a foreigner in my own body and my own soul. I was thrust from the
carefree life of a teenager (one that I thoroughly took advantage of)
to a life of interior distress that would tear apart even the most
mentally tough adult.
I shared none of this struggle with my
parents. I put on a brave face for the weekly 30 minute conversation
and shared with them joys only. I lied to them and told them that I
was great. I was worried about their response: I knew that it was
hard enough for them to be so far away from me, but to know that I
was struggling would have worried them greatly.
I remember many a night lying in bed
telling myself that if I died, it wouldn’t matter. I would rather
it that way. Some nights I begged Him to take me. Looking back at
those nights of despair, I am horrified to think that the weight of
my life, put on me by the harsh lifestyle of the Precandidacy, caused
me to sink so low.
I was kept from my closest girlfriends
(we were not allowed “particular friendships”) and this resulted
in immense loneliness. Only years later have we all realized that we
were strangers to each other, due to the deeply-entrenched secrecy
that was part of the Legion’s and Regnum Christi’s culture. We
were not allowed to tell each other of our doubts, sufferings,
physical and spiritual and emotional wellbeing. We were to share
nothing except with our spiritual directors, who had ultimate control
over our wellbeing, much to our detriment.
I was unsure of my vocation, and was
scared that I was being called to the consecrated life because the
thought of it turned my stomach, to be so utterly controlled for the
rest of my life. But I was also scared that I wasn’t being called
to the consecrated life, because I had been told for so long that it
was the happiest of vocations, it was the vocation for the elite
souls, that the chosen ones whom God really loved were the
ones called to be consecrated. So, if I was called to the mere
vocation of marriage, did that mean that He really didn’t care much
for me? That I was a mere cast-off and not of much importance?
My senior year I had to take a
psychological analysis for entry into the Candidacy. My spiritual
director (who also happened to be my superior) told me that the
results showed that I was so proud, I could rival Satan, and that I
would never get over my pride. I was absolutely crushed. I believed,
starting at that moment and for years to come, that I was probably a
case of predestination: into damnation. I carried this burden with me
for years. It haunted me and, years later, was the subject of my
spiritual guidance for years with a dear and holy Capuchin priest who
helped me get past all the spiritual and psychological trauma left
from my PC years.
The summer Candidacy program was not
long enough for my searching soul, so I lived with the consecrated
women for three months, from September to November, to continue my
discernment. I lived their life and shared every aspect of it (which
was just like living like a PC!). I was going to get consecrated on
the feast of Christ the King. I called my parents to ask their
permission, since I was still only 17 years old. My father told me to
give him two weeks. During those two weeks, he visited the adoration
chapel every day to discern my life for me. After the two weeks he
called and told me that I should take a step back for a year so that
I could have more objectivity in my decision. I was overjoyed with
his decision, wise and holy man! I went to tell my Director/Spiritual
Director, whose response was: “Well, do you have to listen to your
father?” I was appalled! This moment really opened my eyes that
there was something amiss in the way I was being treated. It sounded
so familiar, to the story that was often told to us PCs by
consecrated members, of the “brave and holy” consecrated woman
who snuck out of her parents house to get consecrated, and had still
not reconciled with them, but who knew she was living God’s Will
within Regnum Christi. I knew that God’s Will would not work
against my father’s discernment, especially since I was bound to my
parent’s decision for me at age 17! At that point, I couldn’t
wait to get out of there. I packed up and left.
These are just small moments I’ve
shared about my experience as a PC and Candidate. There are so many
aspects of that life that culminated in a harsh, hostile, and
damaging environment for most of us who experienced it. My parents
trusted Regnum Christi to take care of their young daughter, to keep
her safe during her formative years as a teenager. Unfortunately, for
many, the psychological, emotional, and spiritual damage wrought from
years as a PC has caused more damage than the “world” ever could
have. I pray for healing and peace for us all.
Saturday, June 2, 2012
Sarah's Story
Thank
you everyone for sharing your experiences because they
have really helped me to have the courage to speak up about my own
experiences. I can’t express how wonderful it has been to finally
confront the fact that the PC wasn’t really the heaven on earth I had
thought it to be.
I graduated after being at the PC for four years. Then I was consecrated and lasted a grand total of 8 months in Mexico. When I look back on those years I have to say I lived in constant FEAR… In fear of making a mistake, in fear of getting in trouble and in fear of being disfavored in God’s eyes because I didn’t do his will. I thought that if I messed up or showed any rebellion that I would be considered unfit for the lifestyle and sent home… then I would be a failure in the movement’s eyes. Because of this fear I forced myself to put up with everything and never questioned authority but instead bottled up all my thoughts and feelings inside. To make matters even worse I didn’t feel comfortable talking to my spiritual director and no matter how much I tried, I couldn’t connect with her AT ALL!! This consecrated was my spiritual director for three whole years…9th to 11th grade even though I told her on at least three occasions that I just couldn’t open up with her and wanted a different SD. I even told the director and was told it was God’s will that I open up to this consecrated and that if I pushed myself I would grow from this experience. I just remember making things up in spiritual guidance and feeling sooo sick before every SD. Every time there would be a mass SD change I would run to my chapel box thinking that maybe this was the day..but it never was…that is until my senior year. I remember escaping at times to the stairs leading from the science room/gym to the dorms and just breaking down in tears because I wanted so badly to talk to someone I could trust and be heard by someone. I tried confiding in other PCs but I was always reprimanded for going against “universal charity” and having special friendships. The minute they saw me becoming close to someone I got switched to another team, another housework, another table, etc. It was definitely a very lonely experience. I still struggle getting close to people and it takes me awhile to feel that I can trust a person when I share my thoughts and feelings.
Lastly, I would just like to share a little bit about….Senior year. I was also one of the “prune juice drinkers” AND on the special diets menu because of all the stomach problems I was having due to stress. I’m pretty sure I wasn’t imagining other girls being in the library at 2:00am reading a book because they couldn’t fall asleep due to so much anxiety. For God’s sake we were barely 18 years old and were under sooo much pressure to make major life decisions!!!! I wanted so badly to do God’s will and was so afraid that if I didn’t do it I wouldn’t ever be happy again. My formators told me I had the qualities and there weren’t any “signs” saying it wasn’t for me….. so I got consecrated. Damn I wish I would have had the courage to say “no this is not for me.” It was only after crying myself to sleep for 8 whole months in Mexico that I was able to realize that, NO God doesn’t want me to be this unhappy and that he will love me even if I’m not consecrated. I can’t even begin to describe the amount of peace, joy, and freedom I felt when I realized this. That life was not meant for me and I know I’m a better person for making that decision…really the first decision I made for myself in the whole 5 years leading up that moment.
I graduated after being at the PC for four years. Then I was consecrated and lasted a grand total of 8 months in Mexico. When I look back on those years I have to say I lived in constant FEAR… In fear of making a mistake, in fear of getting in trouble and in fear of being disfavored in God’s eyes because I didn’t do his will. I thought that if I messed up or showed any rebellion that I would be considered unfit for the lifestyle and sent home… then I would be a failure in the movement’s eyes. Because of this fear I forced myself to put up with everything and never questioned authority but instead bottled up all my thoughts and feelings inside. To make matters even worse I didn’t feel comfortable talking to my spiritual director and no matter how much I tried, I couldn’t connect with her AT ALL!! This consecrated was my spiritual director for three whole years…9th to 11th grade even though I told her on at least three occasions that I just couldn’t open up with her and wanted a different SD. I even told the director and was told it was God’s will that I open up to this consecrated and that if I pushed myself I would grow from this experience. I just remember making things up in spiritual guidance and feeling sooo sick before every SD. Every time there would be a mass SD change I would run to my chapel box thinking that maybe this was the day..but it never was…that is until my senior year. I remember escaping at times to the stairs leading from the science room/gym to the dorms and just breaking down in tears because I wanted so badly to talk to someone I could trust and be heard by someone. I tried confiding in other PCs but I was always reprimanded for going against “universal charity” and having special friendships. The minute they saw me becoming close to someone I got switched to another team, another housework, another table, etc. It was definitely a very lonely experience. I still struggle getting close to people and it takes me awhile to feel that I can trust a person when I share my thoughts and feelings.
Lastly, I would just like to share a little bit about….Senior year. I was also one of the “prune juice drinkers” AND on the special diets menu because of all the stomach problems I was having due to stress. I’m pretty sure I wasn’t imagining other girls being in the library at 2:00am reading a book because they couldn’t fall asleep due to so much anxiety. For God’s sake we were barely 18 years old and were under sooo much pressure to make major life decisions!!!! I wanted so badly to do God’s will and was so afraid that if I didn’t do it I wouldn’t ever be happy again. My formators told me I had the qualities and there weren’t any “signs” saying it wasn’t for me….. so I got consecrated. Damn I wish I would have had the courage to say “no this is not for me.” It was only after crying myself to sleep for 8 whole months in Mexico that I was able to realize that, NO God doesn’t want me to be this unhappy and that he will love me even if I’m not consecrated. I can’t even begin to describe the amount of peace, joy, and freedom I felt when I realized this. That life was not meant for me and I know I’m a better person for making that decision…really the first decision I made for myself in the whole 5 years leading up that moment.
Friday, June 1, 2012
Anne's Story
I was at
the PC 2000-2004 (9th-12th), was a co-worker 2004-2005 in Atlanta and
then stayed very, very involved in RC until two years ago. I look back
on my time in the PC with mixed feelings. I met my very best friends
there, people I still consider my dearest friends and who I think I will
always be in touch with in life. I loved Rhode Island and do feel the
academics of the PC were quite good. Interestingly, my happiest memories
are those brief moments when I allowed myself to break away for a few
moments from the rigidity of my normal life and "rebel" against the norms.
The things I struggle with most are more broad RC issues, such as the sickening feeling of listening to MM and all the countless talks, tapes, letters, etc. that focused on him. We meditated on his life . . . ugh! As much as I hate it, I don’t trust priests or the Church hierarchy hardly at all (although I am still a practicing Catholic). I constantly feel I will find out that my family, friends, etc. will turn out to be a giant hoax because of how I found out the Movement was after so much dedication to it. Why did MM and those in LC/RC who knew invest in me (all of us) during my PC, coworker and section time . . . since it wasn’t for the glory of God what was it? Power? The breadth and depth of this hoax blows my mind. It influenced thousands of people all over the world – powerful people and humble, regular people were all preyed on.
I spent some time in the 3df center in Rome in 2006 and there was this “secret wing”. I was there doing a project and was told not to ask anyone else what they were doing and never to go into the other rooms. What the heck was going on there? This has always bothered me . . . anyone know? When I was the director’s helper at the PC, I had to shred tons of documents from many years of the PC – I read some of them and was bothered at the time how PCs were reported on, but justified it at the time as “for the kingdom”. I wonder how many of the LC's and 3df I came into contact with actually knew the truth of MM (and others). I am 100% sure the majority of the formators in the PC had absolutely no idea . . . mainly because so many have left the 3df.
I had frequent pneumonia and struggled with anorexia (though not as bad as some) while in the PC. I was pretty demanding about getting medical attention so it was not withheld but do think all this was brought on by extreme stress. I remember not knowing if I had a vocation or not, but feeling extremely guilty of ever thinking, much less talking, about doing anything else with my life.
Something that irks me is the way “charity” was misused. A false charity was preached by MM and trickled down to us. It is so disturbing to know that we were manipulated by charity. No particular friendships, no form of criticism, silence, etc. (I could go on and on) that was supposedly charity was a way for us to be completely unquestioning to RC and ultimately MM.
After I left PC I always felt guilty about doing anything I enjoyed or was relaxing. I felt like I was going to hell for wasting time. I was afraid to spend time or effort to make myself look attractive or I might become too worldly. I sought approval for everything from the RC section directress – even though I was a "civilian” normal person in college. It took another ex-PC and my dear friend to teach me how to enjoy life and find some sort of balance. I will always be grateful to her and for the 4 years we were roommates in Atlanta. Thoughts still creep into my mind that I am a “bad person” for not living with the rigidity as I did as a PC, maybe that is something that will remain in my psyche forever. I still feel horrible about turning against my dad because he didn’t “support my vocation”, those are years I will never get back. I hardly spoke to him the entire 4 years. My mom is only now beginning to see me as an adult since I left home (never returned) at 13.
Thankfully, I am blessed with a wonderful husband, beautiful baby and overall great life – but the RC chapter of my life will always be bittersweet and has deeply changed who I am.
The things I struggle with most are more broad RC issues, such as the sickening feeling of listening to MM and all the countless talks, tapes, letters, etc. that focused on him. We meditated on his life . . . ugh! As much as I hate it, I don’t trust priests or the Church hierarchy hardly at all (although I am still a practicing Catholic). I constantly feel I will find out that my family, friends, etc. will turn out to be a giant hoax because of how I found out the Movement was after so much dedication to it. Why did MM and those in LC/RC who knew invest in me (all of us) during my PC, coworker and section time . . . since it wasn’t for the glory of God what was it? Power? The breadth and depth of this hoax blows my mind. It influenced thousands of people all over the world – powerful people and humble, regular people were all preyed on.
I spent some time in the 3df center in Rome in 2006 and there was this “secret wing”. I was there doing a project and was told not to ask anyone else what they were doing and never to go into the other rooms. What the heck was going on there? This has always bothered me . . . anyone know? When I was the director’s helper at the PC, I had to shred tons of documents from many years of the PC – I read some of them and was bothered at the time how PCs were reported on, but justified it at the time as “for the kingdom”. I wonder how many of the LC's and 3df I came into contact with actually knew the truth of MM (and others). I am 100% sure the majority of the formators in the PC had absolutely no idea . . . mainly because so many have left the 3df.
I had frequent pneumonia and struggled with anorexia (though not as bad as some) while in the PC. I was pretty demanding about getting medical attention so it was not withheld but do think all this was brought on by extreme stress. I remember not knowing if I had a vocation or not, but feeling extremely guilty of ever thinking, much less talking, about doing anything else with my life.
Something that irks me is the way “charity” was misused. A false charity was preached by MM and trickled down to us. It is so disturbing to know that we were manipulated by charity. No particular friendships, no form of criticism, silence, etc. (I could go on and on) that was supposedly charity was a way for us to be completely unquestioning to RC and ultimately MM.
After I left PC I always felt guilty about doing anything I enjoyed or was relaxing. I felt like I was going to hell for wasting time. I was afraid to spend time or effort to make myself look attractive or I might become too worldly. I sought approval for everything from the RC section directress – even though I was a "civilian” normal person in college. It took another ex-PC and my dear friend to teach me how to enjoy life and find some sort of balance. I will always be grateful to her and for the 4 years we were roommates in Atlanta. Thoughts still creep into my mind that I am a “bad person” for not living with the rigidity as I did as a PC, maybe that is something that will remain in my psyche forever. I still feel horrible about turning against my dad because he didn’t “support my vocation”, those are years I will never get back. I hardly spoke to him the entire 4 years. My mom is only now beginning to see me as an adult since I left home (never returned) at 13.
Thankfully, I am blessed with a wonderful husband, beautiful baby and overall great life – but the RC chapter of my life will always be bittersweet and has deeply changed who I am.
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