tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-57285990196269860582024-03-08T01:21:37.363-08:0049 weeks a yearMeganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00173313916249942935noreply@blogger.comBlogger29125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728599019626986058.post-53698075603639477082012-07-13T15:42:00.001-07:002012-07-13T15:42:47.192-07:00Our Letter to Cardinal De Paolis<a href="http://www.change.org/petitions/letter-to-cardinal-de-paolis-from-ex-precandidates" target="_blank">Click here to view the letter.</a>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00173313916249942935noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728599019626986058.post-75976966954351134722012-07-11T20:42:00.001-07:002012-07-11T20:42:14.936-07:00Andrea's Story<div class="MsoNormal">
I didn’t WANT to be a nun.
I was raised Catholic. I read stories of the saints. I believed in God.
I prayed. But I didn’t go looking for any sort of religious lifestyle. They
came looking for me. Consecrated women, with fake happy smiles, began by
encouraging me to go to youth group (and encouraging my mother to send us).
While there, we were told we were called to “incorporate” into ECYD. I remember
when my younger sister refused (always the rebel :P ), they told her God spoke to them and told
them she had to incorporate into ECYD. They were mad when she outright told
them to leave her alone. This should have been my first clue. Other friends
later were told the same thing. God told them… but didn’t send a message along
to the girls themselves? But I didn’t need convincing. Why would I? It was a
way of joining with other girls, being part of something. Looking back, I
realize it was just the first step in indoctrination. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When I went to the summer program, I was hesitant. But the
consecrated women promised fun and laughter and swimming. It was supposed to be
a summer camp. No one told me I might stay. They especially never mentioned
that I would be manipulated into staying.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I wasn’t there long before I knew I was staying.
Conversations revolved around Christ’s calling. How could you say no? Vocation
story upon vocation story told of girls as young as 12 and 13 fighting for
their vocation, no matter the cost, personal, familial, or otherwise. Leave
your father and mother and follow me. How could I be selfish and not give
myself to him? And besides, look how HAPPY the PCs are. Look at them, not
discussing anything other than their joy, their triumphs. No one dared say “run
for your life”.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Other ex-PCs have done a fine job illustrating the mental
and physical anguish. Some might say it’s typical teenage pain but I only
stayed the one year, grade 9, before my parents refused to let me return. The
typical teenage pain I experienced in 10<sup>th</sup> -12<sup>th</sup> grades
(fighting with friends, highschool heartbreak, deaths of friends and peers) ,
although plenty traumatic in certain situations, is nothing like this. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I was a shell of myself when I returned home. Having spent
an entire year crying every single day, being berated for my emotions, being
told to be an example for others and not let them know my pain, being so far
removed from my family (being out of country meant missing the thanksgiving
visit, and the possible one visit a month for those that lived close)- it
nearly broke me. Luckily, my family held me up. Luckily, I’d lost only one
year, not 4, not some undetermined amount of time I most definitely would have
spent consecrated had my family not intervened (and yes, I HAD decided I was
called to be consecrated, at the very mature age of 14).</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So parents, do not suggest this “program” for your children.
And if they tell you it’s God’s will, if they beg and plead and tell you “Please
Mom, this is my vocation. I don’t know if I’ll ever be strong enough to follow
it again. It’s your vocation to let me”, be the parent. Realize you have a
teenager who is good and loving and wants to love God, but it’s your duty to
protect her. She needs you now more than ever. </div>
14 is not old enough.Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00173313916249942935noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728599019626986058.post-62802611489844042412012-07-09T13:10:00.000-07:002012-07-09T13:10:53.069-07:00Sheila's StoryTo read Sheila's story, <a href="http://agiftuniverse.blogspot.com/search/label/Regnum%20Christi" target="_blank">clink on this link,</a> then read from the bottom of the page to the top.Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00173313916249942935noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728599019626986058.post-70853246248147619302012-07-09T07:29:00.004-07:002012-07-09T07:29:48.340-07:00Sarita's Thoughts<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<a href="" name="_GoBack"></a><b>Schedule</b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The schedule was remarkably structured
and left very little downtime. We have 5 and 10 minute free times
sprinkled throughout the day, but it mostly just gave us enough time
to get from one activity to another. As part of our Human Formation,
we were also supposed to have a Free Time Program where we designated
which free time we would clean our lockers, ask for permissions, try
to write a letter home, etc. Literally every second of our day was
accounted for, from 6:00 am when we woke up till lights out at 9:30.
I had a great deal of difficultly fitting myself into such a rigorous
and demanding schedule because it left no time to think, relax or
even unwind.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Since the reform within RC has begun,
it has been noted that the consecrated were attempting to live a
fully apostolic and fully contemplative lifestyle. There simply
wasn’t enough time in the day to fulfill all of the prayer
commitments, run an apostolate and have time for free time. During my
3 year stay in RI, we cycled through various different prayer books
that were supposedly approved for the PC’s (at one point we were
using the consecrated’s prayer books). I never saw a handbook or
written set of rules that laid out the many norms that governed our
day. I don’t believe the PC was ever an apostolate that was well
thought through, we lived our lives as mini-consecrated because no
one had ever had the time to actually define what was appropriate for
high school girls. However I was 14 years old, I never took promises
of poverty, chastity, obedience and charity and I certainly did not
possess the maturity to discern this decision. I was presented with a
lifestyle (that was already very harmful to adult women) and informed
that it was God’s Will that I follow these rules.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>Will of God</b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
One of the most damaging aspects of the
PC was the manipulation of conscience and God’s Will. Everything
was considered God’s Will: the norms, the schedule, your director,
and your spiritual director. If you were told to do anything you were
expected to obey instantly with a spirit of supernatural obedience
and without questioning. Anytime we were late (even if it was
minutes) we were considered outside of the schedule and therefore not
living God’s Will for us. I was told by one Spiritual Director
that disobeying the norms was a mortal sin and that I needed to
confess my infractions in confession (that Legionary must have been
bored to death listening to our confessions). When we found ourselves
outside “the Will of God” (e.g. the schedule and norms) we were
expected to “depend” to our formator and ask for a penance. A
penance could be anything from a visit to the chapel to all free
times in absolute silence. Absolute silence was kept in the dorms and
from the period of time after night prayers till after mass the next
morning. It could not be broken, and if you absolutely needed to ask
a question, you wrote it down on a piece of paper. Once I asked for a
penance because I was having trouble keeping silence in the hallways
(never mind the fact that I was a talkative 14 year old girl) and I
was told to be in absolute silence for all my free times all day. I’m
sure my schoolmates were really confused when I insisted on writing
everything down for a whole day.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Because my spiritual directors and
formators represented the absolute will of God for me, I obeyed
everything they told me without question. If they told me I was
proud, I felt I must have been riddled with hubris; if I was late to
activities, I must have been lazy and needed to put my desires aside
in order to live the Will of God for me more fully; if I was spending
too much time with a particular girl, that must be stopped because it
was against universal charity. God had put the consecrated in my
life to guide me and I never questioned this principle. We were
encouraged to be 100% open with our spiritual directors and to
“depend” about every thought and struggle we encountered. I have
since discovered that our spiritual directions were never
confidential and were discussed among our formators and used to
decide how to manipulate us.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Openness was a key concept for a PC, if
you were not open with your directors; you were not being open with
God. In the name of complete openness, we were given the “option”
of letting our spriritual directors read all of our incoming and
outgoing mail. In 10<sup>th</sup> grade I struggled with the concept
of being unable to communicate with family and friends without every
word being read by someone else. I spoke of sending letters without
letting my spiritual director read them, but it was “highly
discouraged”. In a burst of creativity I wrote my little sisters
several letters in pig latin because I knew my Spanish speaking
spiritual director wouldn’t understand it (plus my sisters would
get a kick out it). I’ve also discovered that my mail wasn’t
always forwarded to me if it was deemed harmful to my spiritual
progress. My childhood friend wrote me many times about friends at
home and the trouble they were getting into, however I only received
one letter from her during my entire time at the PC.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The primary goal of the Precandidacy
was to encourage girls to become consecrated. Within a few weeks in
the school I noticed that certain girls were targeted, they were the
“leader girls” being groomed for higher positions. They had
better houseworks, more personal attention, were team leaders, went
as leaders for retreats, assigned to sit a specific tables, etc.
Every single facet of our lives was designed to manipulate us into
perfect little “Women of the Kingdom” .</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
My personality type appreciates rules;
I’ve always feel that rules are put in place for a logical reason
and therefore they should be followed. So when I was presented with a
huge laundry list of norms and rules that dictated my every single
action, I was swamped. It was physically impossible to be on time to
every single distribution of the schedule, to keep perfect silence,
to remember to always be focused during meditation, to have my
clothes perfectly ironed, etc. I internalized every single criticism,
rule and norm and within a month of becoming a PC, I found myself
becoming depressed and I withdrew into myself.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<b>Perfect” Charity </b>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Another key concept that was practiced
was “universal charity”. In theory, it sounded like an excellent
idea, everyone would be friends with everyone and there would be no
risk of cliques or exclusion. In practice, universal charity meant
that no one was allowed to form deep or meaningful friendships with
each other. If it was noted that we spent more time with a certain
girl, we would be pulled aside and told to spend time with the other
girls in the name of universal charity. We were told to be “discrete”
and never discuss health concerns, our struggles, or anything
negative that would bring down the spirit of the Precandidacy. Our
conversations were pretty much limited to “oh this is wonderful;
I’m so happy here; aren’t you excited for the outing on Saturday;
isn’t Nuestro Padre (Father Maciel) such a saint?” All of our
negative thoughts or concerns were to be directed to our spiritual
directors or director.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I remember being given many penances
for starting to form “particular friendships” with certain girls
and I was told that I had a velcro heart that attached to everything
in sight. It was my job to cut off all of these attachments and trust
only in Christ and my formators. As a result, we were deeply isolated
from each other and lived lonely lives surrounded by others. If I saw
a companion crying or struggling with an issue I was expected to walk
by discretely (perhaps say a prayer for her) and tell my director
that “so and so seemed to be having a problem with X”. I deeply
regret never reaching out to my companions in true charity instead of
the false “universal charity” that I was told to practice.
Speaking with my school mates now, we both have to ask “wait, we
were friends, right? I always felt like you were a particular friend,
but I wasn’t sure because I couldn’t ask.”
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The practice of charity also extended
to the institution itself. We were told to never criticize either the
Movement or our directors and if we had an issue with something we
were to take it our spiritual director or proper formator. When I
left the Precandidacy, this aspect of charity remained ingrained
within me and I refused to look up Regain or any other news source
about RC because it was “uncharitable” and contrary to the spirit
of the Movement. When I finally began to tentatively voice my
opinions about RC, I felt that I was committing some sort of sin:
“speak no evil of Regnum Christi” was a principle that I had a
very hard time shaking off.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>The Cult of Maciel</b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
In hindsight, the level of adoration
that was directed towards Fr. Maciel was disturbing. I fell for the
“he’s a living saint, we should emulate his every action” party
line whole heartedly. His image was all over the school, he was
quoted in homilies, talks, and casual conversations. We had prayer
cards with his face on them and his quotes plastered on the back and
we memorized his poems (the plagiarized <span style="color: #222222;">El
Salterio</span><span style="color: #222222;"> </span><em><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-style: normal;">de
mis días</span></span></em>) and letters. His letters were read
aloud in spiritual reading and during dinner and lunch. When we did
our weekly Encounters with Christ (similar to a bible study) we would
offer “cases” that were relevant to the bible verse were studying
and 9 times out of 10 these cases were about “Nuestro Padre”
(Spanish for Our Father) and looking back they were outlandish and
definitely untrue. “I know a case about Nuestro Padre when he had a
stomach operation. When a LC brother came in, Nuestro Padre sat up
because he wanted to give that brother a good example of a Legionary.
This is an example of how we should always be good and faithful
cofounders and sacrifice our comfort to give good examples to others
regardless how much pain we are in.”
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Over the years I saw Maciel at many
different RC functions. Every time he arrived, he was always
surrounded by his “inner circle” LC’s and arrived in a luxury
car (and once in a helicopter). When I was in 9<sup>th</sup> grade
we were told that “Nuetro Padre” was coming to visit us and we
were beyond ourselves with excitement. In my journal I wrote, “Today,
we had to prepare the house just in case Nuestro Padre comes. We
don’t know when or where Christ comes. Um… I mean Nuestro Padre.”
It never occurred to me that I had just casually mixed up God with a
man or that this was an attitude that was cause for concern.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>Parents</b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
There were very limited contact with
our parents and family members while I was a PC. I don’t remember
the exact time frame, but we were expected to call our families
during a scheduled time for around 30 minutes. Many times I would
skip my calling time because I would be too busy with other scheduled
activities. We spent very little vacation time with our families: 2
weeks in the summer, 4 days after Christmas and the possibility of 3
days at Thanksgiving. There was a story told that it was a PC who had
requested this limited time because spending too much time at home
was a danger to her vocation. We were expected to fulfill all of our
prayer commitments, wear the long skirts, avoid improper situations
(aka boys) and many other norms. We were told that we weren’t
supposed to go to movie theatres, amusement parks, etc because it was
a public spectacle. If our parents insisted that we attend one of the
“public spectacles” we could go, but we were to avoid it if at
all possible.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
One of the cardinal (unspoken) rules
was “speak no evil of RC” and this carried over fully into our
relationships with our parents. Even though I struggled with life at
the PC from the very beginning, I never told my family. I didn’t
want to reflect badly on the Movement and I believed my struggles
were my own problems that I needed to address. Parents were very much
kept out of the loop, my parents never knew about my dramatic weight
loss in 11<sup>th</sup> grade nor the extent of my “rebellion”
and failing grades in 10<sup>th</sup> grade. When I went home to
visit I spoke only good things about the PC, how much I was learning,
how much I loved Christ, and how being a PC was such a wonderful
vocation. I don’t blame my parents for sending me to the PC, I
asked to go and I never confided in them about the true state of my
soul. From the outside, the Precandidacy looks like a wonderful
place, and if I were in my parents place with the same amount of
information, I wouldn’t hesitate to send my daughter to such a
“wonderful school”.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>Methodology </b>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
During my stay in the PC we were given
many formation courses on the methodology of the movement. In fact we
were steeped in every aspect of RC in hopes of transforming each of
us into the “integral woman of the kingdom”. We had dialogues
(meetings) with our formators regarding our spiritual, apostolic,
human and intellectual formation. Within each area we were expected
to have programs that were neatly outlined that had a goal and means
for us to help transform us into happy little drones in Maciel’s
army.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Within Apostolic formation we were
taught the steps of recruitment, the various tactics used to recruit
the leaders and how important it was to spread the kingdom of God to
every corner of the earth. It was never said outright, but there was
an implied attitude that RC was the absolute best way to be Catholic
and therefore everyone should be RC. Parish life and every other
movement was only second best therefore it was our responsibility to
educate everyone about the wonder that was RC. Recently I started to
go through all the papers that I had saved during my time as a PC, I
found charts where I listed my siblings and friends and which steps
of recruitment I thought they were in as well as my ultimate goals
(long term cultivation for the Precandidacy, recruit them for the
summer program, etc.) I had listed concrete steps such as make phone
calls and letters in order to move them along the prescribed steps. I
had ceased to view my friends and family as people that I loved and
cared about instead they were means to an end, a way for me to
further the Kingdom of God in a methodical and planned manner.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
As a whole, the Precandidacy employed a
very manipulative and damaging system that failed to take into
account the inherent value of each human person. I understand that
RC is attempting to reform and I hope with all my heart that each
person will find a healthy holy life within the Catholic Church, no
matter the route. I’m speaking out in order to find closure and to
move past the chapter in my life. In many ways writing these pages
have been extremely cathartic and healing. I hope that by writing
down both my testimony and thoughts I will be able to finally close
the RC chapter of my life and move forward without a hint of guilt.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00173313916249942935noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728599019626986058.post-76516227797397745372012-07-09T07:29:00.000-07:002012-07-09T07:29:17.651-07:00Sarita's Story<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I’ve been trying to write down my
testimony about my time at the Precandidacy for over a month. Each
time that I’ve tried to write down my thoughts, I’ve gotten
overwhelmed with the amount of complexity and emotion that I feel
regarding those years (in fact this is my fourth attempt to write a
coherent account of those 3 years of my life). The PC was a very
complex and confusing time in my life and I have a very difficult
time explaining it to people because there were so many levels of
dysfunction that just sharing anecdotes could never fully explain the
toxic environment we lived in. Up until the creation of this blog, I
had thought that I was alone in my negative experience of the PC. For
years I have kept silent about the psychologically damaging system
that I lived with during the most formative years of my life simply
because I thought I was the “defective cog” in a perfect system.
There were so many rules and norms that dictated our everyday lives
and it’s impossible to fully explain the atmosphere it created. If
I was to write about every single damaging or strange rule we
followed I would be writing a book not a blog entry.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
One point that I want to make
absolutely clear is that I do not blame Regnum Christi and the
Precandidacy for every single hurt or mistake in my life. While the
methodology of the Precandidacy damaged my sense of self and gave me
an inaccurate picture of God, I am responsible for my actions.
Everyone who entered the Precandidacy came with their own baggage,
family backgrounds and weaknesses. Certain personalities reacted
differently with the system of Regnum Christi and while one girl may
not felt that she suffered apparent damage, other girls have suffered
intense psychological and psychosomatic results. I believe that even
those who had a relatively good experience within the PC may bear
hidden wounds because the problems of the PC were systemic; it took a
beautiful thing (generosity with God) and used it to mold us into
robotic “Women of the Kingdom”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
One of the fundamental problems with
the PC was the fact that it took very wonderful virtues and
principles of the Catholic Church and twisted them in order to
manipulate us. Because of His infinite love, God does have a plan
for each individual human being. But the concept of God’s Will was
transformed into a label that was slapped on every single aspect of
our lives and used to ensure our obedient compliance to the schedule,
the directors, the norms, etc. However I do no blame any of my
formators or the consecrated at all. They were especially integrated
within the Regnum Christi mission and I know all of the things they
told me were not meant to harm me; they were also following a set of
rules. Some of our formators were as young as 21 or 22, they were
barely adults themselves and had absolutely no training or experience
in the formation of teenage girls.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Not every aspect of the Precandidacy
was harmful or damaging. I am extremely thankful to have received an
excellent education from several amazing teachers. There was also an
incredible amount of international exposure and I was given
opportunities to travel to places I would have otherwise never seen.
During my time in the Precandidacy I was able to go to Rome, New York
City, Boston, Providence and expand my cultural knowledge. But
without a doubt the biggest benefit of the Precandidacy was the
utterly amazing women that I had the opportunity to meet. I believe
that Regnum Christi’s sole redeeming feature is the many holy,
sincere and enthusiastic members that simply trying to live their
lives according to God’s Plan. I have many fond memories of the
times I did spend living with these absolutely amazing girls. But the
fact that the institution wasn’t thoroughly evil only confuses the
issue. If Regnum Christi appeared to be an evil institution with only
evil fruits, people would reject it outright. But a glass of water
that is only 75% poisoned is still poisonous, even though there were
a few positive aspects of the Precandidacy, this did not outweigh the
psychologically damaging ones.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Before I entered the PC in 1998, I was
a chatty, outgoing and cheerful 14 year old girl. But within a month
of starting school I started to talk about being sad and I walked
next to walls with my arms folded, I rarely made eye contact and
buried myself in books. I was very sincere in my attempts to be a
faithful PC but I was constantly getting bogged down in all of the
details and began developing a very scrupulous conscience.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Once I started 10<sup>th</sup> grade
something switched in my mentality, I knew that I was utterly
miserable and I wanted to go home. As I began to talk to my Spiritual
Director about the possibility of returning home and how unhappy I
was, I was constantly asked “are you being generous? Isn’t God
asking you to be a PC? Wouldn’t it be so selfish of you to go home
when you’ve been called to live this vocation?” Of course when I
was faced with this thought, I felt obliged to stay. If God had
called me out of thousands of girls to be a Precandidate, it would be
so selfish of me to leave just because I was unhappy. I felt that by
leaving not only would I be letting my formators down, I would be
spitting in the face of God.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I begged my spiritual director to send
me home, but she insisted that I had free will and I needed to make
the choice. However, I felt the only option I had was to remain at
the PC because going home meant betraying God. So I stayed. I began
to “act out” in order to force my formators to send me home. I
skipped classes and sports, I hid from the consecrated and read my
books during meditations and study periods. Even though I knew that
skipping all of these activities on the schedule was a sin and I was
disobeying God’s Will for me, I was hoping that I would cause
enough trouble that the consecrated would give up and send me home.
If I was sent home, I wouldn’t be responsible for “abandoning my
vocation” and I could finally go home with a clear conscience. But
I was so convinced that my formators were the Will of God for me that
I would constantly “depend” to them about every single thought I
had (including where I would hide, so I constantly had to find new
and creative places to hide). Once in a fit of conscience I
apologized to my director for all of my infidelity and she suggested
that I publicly apologize to the whole school for giving them such a
bad example of a Precandidate. Thankfully I didn’t take her
suggestion and opted to write individual memos to several PC’s.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
After a whole year of misery and being
repeatedly told that the Precandidacy was the will of God for me, I
was abruptly informed that I was “poisoning the spirit of the
Precandidacy” and putting several other girl’s vocations in
danger. My formator implied that just because I had a conversation
with a certain girl that she had started to skip sports too. I was
horrified. I made the decision to leave even if I was abandoning my
vocation because I was hurting my friends. I was told that I was such
a danger that I should leave before final exams. When a PC leaves,
we were not allowed to tell our friends about or decision or say
goodbye to them. We typically packed our things and left after Mass.
Once I returned home, I was seized with regret and immediately began
begging to return to the Precandidacy. At the time my dad was
running a Regnum Christi Retreat Center which allowed me to throw
myself into apostolate as soon as I returned home. I was given work
as a team leader for the girls club and I began work on a new
apostolate that focused on chastity. I was very eager to help with
anything that involved RC and I immediately focused all of my
energies on helping the team of consecrated and coworkers that were
stationed there. I gave talks, wrote schedules, balanced checking
accounts, wrote financial reports and set up the filing and
administration system for the new apostolate. During this time I was
still petitioning the territorial direction for permission to return
to the PC. All of my enthusiastic work for the RC section must have
been noticed and I was given permission to return to the PC even
though I was suffering health complications. It was almost unheard of
for a PC to return to the school after leaving, in most cases once
you left that was it. But thanks to my dedication, I must have been
seen as an asset to the Movement.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I returned to the PC in the second half
of 11<sup>th</sup> grade. I was ecstatic to be back in my beloved
Precandidacy and I threw myself wholeheartedly into the schedule,
school work and openness with my directors. Thanks to my health
problems and the stressful lifestyle, I began to rapidly lose weight.
My parents were never informed that I had lost over 20 lbs. in five
months and that my skin had begun to take on a gray and unhealthy
tone. I was told to eat a plate of candy at evening snack every night
in order to help put some weight back on. I remember going to evening
snack every evening and gulping down candy in silence wondering if
they really thought a plate of jelly beans and chocolate was going to
fix things. I was told at the end of 11<sup>th</sup> grade that I
didn’t have a vocation and that I should go home. A big part of me
was really relieved, I had given God the first chance, and I was
finally in the clear.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
When I returned home, my parents were
shocked. I had lost well over 20 lbs and my face had a gaunt and
drawn look to it. I was almost immediately hospitalized under the
suspicion of an eating disorder, I tried to explain to them that I
didn’t have a problem with body image, I simply wasn’t hungry.
After changing my medication and my lifestyle I slowly began to
return to a healthy weight. I expressed a desire to be a coworker
once I finished high school and I spoke with my 3gf Spiritual
Director about the possibility.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Every time I asked my spiritual
director about the coworker program, I received a very evasive
answer: “well we have to wait and ask the directors”. Slowly the
deadline for the program passed and I still hadn’t received an
answer, it was suggested that I should go see a counselor. Given my
history with the Precandidacy and my difficulties adjusting to
“normal life”, it shouldn’t have surprised me that I was
diagnosed with depression with clusters of social anxiety and
symptoms of OCD. I firmly believe that many of these mental health
problems are a direct result of my time in the PC and the very
psychologically oppressive system that I lived with.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
When it became apparent that I would
not be allowed to enter the coworker program, my depression became
all-consuming and I turned my anger on God. After years of being told
that the Precandidacy and the consecrated life were the highest
vocation anyone could aspire to, I felt that I was inadequate in the
eyes of God. If I wasn’t good enough to be a PC or even a coworker,
how could I be worthy of God’s love? I had screwed up, big time.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
When the PC discussion board opened, I
realized I had blocked out 75% of my memories associated with the PC,
so I’ve been tearing through my journals, memos, practical exams
and assorted paraphernalia (yes, I’ve been toting around an
enormous amount of PC stuff for almost 10 years) in order to figure
out exactly what happened to me during this period of time. What I
discovered was both sad and revealing. I found a journal entry that
summed up my post-PC thoughts perfectly “Why do you hate me God?
You don’t want me as a precandidate, a consecrated or even as a
coworker. Why do you keep rejecting me? Do you love me? Why don’t
you just kill me off and then you won’t have to keep toying with my
life. I hate myself. Do you hear me? I HATE ME!!” The amount of
self-loathing and despair was astounding. The system of RC was so
preoccupied with fixing all of our little imperfections so that when
I felt that I couldn’t measure up to the standard of RC perfection,
I gave up.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I was unable to differentiate between
Regnum Christi and God, in my mind they were one in the same.
Frankly, I was suicidal. I was unable to relax among my peers and I
turned to alcohol and drugs to take the edge off of my social anxiety
and depression. I was also highly unprepared to deal with both
relationships and attention from the opposite sex. Sex ed was almost
nonexistent at the PC and was not geared towards those who would not
be pursuing a vocation as a consecrated woman. The Catholic Church
has such a beautiful view towards the vocation of women and sex and
to not educate hundreds of young women about these truths was a grave
disservice. I made every single stupid choice with the full knowledge
that it was extraordinarily harmful to me and I felt that I deserved
every single minute of misery. While I was a PC there were many
whispered conversations (spoken under the guise of charity of course)
that “so and so had left the PC and now she desperately needed our
prayers because she was partying, pregnant, etc.” Faced with the
rejection of RC and God and buried under a mountain of guilt, I had
turned into “that ex-pc” and I felt more lost and alone than
ever.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Despite my outright defiance and anger
towards God, He never deserted me. While I never made an overt
attempt on my life, I was living an incredibly risky lifestyle and a
very large part of me hoped that I wouldn’t wake up in the morning.
If couldn’t be worthy of God, I couldn’t be worthy of happiness
much less life. At the age of 19 I found myself pregnant with my
oldest daughter. While I was exceptionally shocked and frightened
about the turn my life had taken, I was profoundly grateful. Through
the haze of my overwhelming depression I recognized that God was
giving me a second chance at life by giving me this huge
responsibility for a new life. I named my daughter Eliana which means
God has answered my prayer. I knew that my daughter was the answer to
the prayer I didn’t even know I was praying.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
My journey has been incredible and no
one can ever accuse me of living me a boring life. I am sharing these
details of my life in the hopes that what I experienced can help
others who may find themselves in a similar situation. I also firmly
believe that the system that was put in place by Maciel is deeply
flawed and psychologically damaging. As a direct result of my time in
the Precandidacy I lost my faith for over 8 years and I only recently
began to live my life as a practicing Catholic. I’ve suffered from
strange nightmares about being trapped at the PC where I’ve been
handed schedules, pushed into Spiritual Direction, being told to
smile and cover up my sadness, etc. It is my hope that our stories
will be heard by those who are recovering from their time in RC and
those who are attempting to reform it with the guidance of the
Vatican.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
While it may be argued that my
experience is dated because I left the school in 2001, I believe the
dangers of the Precandidacy are far more than just “the schedule
was too strict” or “we spent too much time in silence.” The
schedule, silence, and strict dress codes were merely symptoms of a
very damaging systemic problem. The very foundation of RC is based
on deceit and manipulation by a very evil man, those who have lived
through “Maciel’s Reign” will have a very difficult time
rooting out these very hidden yet flawed thinking patterns. It has
come to the attention of the former Precandidates that RC is still
actively recruiting to the Precandidacy. Not only does this seem to
be a sign that the culture of Maciel and his doctrine of recruitment
is alive and flourishing, but it is grossly unfair to the prospective
Precandidates. From what I understand the consecrated have made many
changes to the PC program, they have more free time, they interact
with the outside world a bit more, and they have “formation
dialogue” instead of spiritual direction, etc. I’ve spoken with
one of the consecrated who is still involved with the PC program and
she seemed very saddened about the negative effects that I suffered.
However neither RC nor the Precandidacy has publicly acknowledged the
very damaging effects that hundreds of girls have suffered. The
Vatican has urged the Legion and Regnum Christi to throw off the
mantle of secrecy and lies that they have been practicing for so many
years and to adapt an attitude of transparency. In order to heal from
the past, the Precandidacy needs to recognize their flaws and attempt
to make amends for them.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<a href="" name="_GoBack"></a>Continuing to
recruit minors is irresponsible until Regnum Christi has completed
their process of reform. If a house is suffering from crumbling
foundations, doesn’t it make sense to repair and rebuild the
foundation before inviting new members to live in that house? It is
my sincere hope that many people will hear the voices of the former
Precandidates and that Regnum Christi will take the appropriate
action for the sakes of the current and prospective Precandidates.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00173313916249942935noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728599019626986058.post-60589892483991023712012-06-25T09:14:00.002-07:002012-06-25T09:14:27.086-07:00Tricia's StoryAt 15 years of age, after attending many summer pre-candidacy programs, I<br />officially became a pre-candidate. I was eager to begin my formation as a young woman<br />whose sole purpose was to try to grow in grace and sanctity. With the eagerness of<br />youth, I threw myself into the program, divulging my thoughts and actions without<br />question in spiritual direction. And so began my discovery of Godʼs Will.<br />I was told to distance myself from those around me and to be detached from all worldly<br />things. If I felt the least attachment to clothes or the way I looked, I was told that I was<br />full of vanity which needed to be eradicated. If I questioned why we did certain activities<br />or even why they occurred at the time they did, I was told that was my deep-seated<br />pride which needed uprooting. The continual need to find fault with each and every<br />action and report my failings not only to my confessor but often to my spiritual director<br />and sometimes even peers created a deep sense of insecurity and self loathing.<br />The Regnum Christi Movement implemented several activities to find and express oneʼs<br />faults to the point of creating a scrupulous conscience. More importantly, the danger<br />that persists is that you begin to have a disgust for yourself. Especially for a child, this<br />can become the way that they see themselves their whole life. Combined with no<br />emotional connection to family or friends, and a life controlled by a strict schedule, many<br />turn to other ways of control such as bulemia/annorexia of which I began a battle during<br />that year. Never did we dwell on the idea that we should love and respect ourselves<br />because we are made in His image or that God loved us completely including our faults.<br />Instead we were asked to rid ourselves of our faults in order to be loved by Him.<br />! A vital flaw within Regnum Christi is the separation from the family. As parents,<br />we are entrusted with our children and they are placed under our authority and care. It<br />is very hard to find a parent who does not intrinsically love their child and want only<br />good for their child. The Movement sought to disrupt and usurp the natural parent child<br />relationship replacing it instead with a distrust between the child and his/her parent. For<br />me, throughout my childhood, I saw my parents sacrificing everything for my well-being.<br />Before they made decisions for me, I knew that they prayed and discerned Godʼs will for<br />me. As my parents, they were given the authority and grace by God to discern what was<br />best for me because they loved me. My parents could tell that something was not right<br />when I told them that I was certain that I was going to give my life to Christ as a<br />Consecrated. This would be the same concern any parent would have if your 15 year<br />old told you they were going to be married in a year. My parents told me that I needed to<br />come home for my last year of highschool before making that step. I wasnʼt sure what to<br />think, but it became very clear in spiritual direction. This was the moment when the<br />warning bells went off in my head. I was told that my parents did not know what Godʼs<br />will for me was. That they were trying to take me away from my vocation; that I should<br />resist their decisions. Iʼll never forget the clarity of my thoughts when this was<br />suggested. I knew I was my parentʼs daughter and under their authority. More<br />importantly I knew they loved me no matter how full of faults I was. They wanted what<br />was best for me and that was really Godʼs will. This was the first time I had resisted<br />anything in spiritual direction. Maybe it was because it was no longer me that was the<br />“problem” but my parents. It was easier to stick up for others than oneself.<br />The Regnum Christi movement is dangerous because they demand that you subject<br />yourself to the “will of God” as proposed by an inexperienced spiritual director who<br />cannot themselves offer more than the mind games they have been indoctrinated with.<br />This brings me to what I find to be a fundamentally divisive view within the Movement:<br />The idea that Godʼs will is not what makes you happy, but the ultimate sacrifice that you<br />have to do please Him. This idea rejects the fundamental Truth that God is Love. It<br />perpetuates the notion that we are bound by rules simply to avoid punishment and<br />misery. Godʼs will is not a path we are forced to follow, but a path that he presents to us<br />so that we can CHOOSE to follow to find the Truth and peace and ultimately happiness.<br />Yes, there are sacrifices, or crosses, that will happen along those paths, but God is<br />there to provide the grace to grow and be sanctified in them. The subtle distinction that<br />was never mentioned in Regnum Christi is that our vocation is not supposed to be a<br />cross. Choosing to be married or becoming a priest, nun or consecrated in itself should<br />be joyful and without the fear of being punished by Him if we turned away from it. I used<br />to think that being a consecrated or a nun would be the ultimate sacrifice, the hardest<br />thing in life. Therefore, because it was hardest and thus would be a cross, I needed to<br />sacrifice myself for Godʼs will. We are not meant to choose a life that will make us<br />miserable like virgins preparing to be sacrificed to a pagan god. God gives us a vocation<br />in which we can find happiness. It took years for me to finally realize that Godʼs will is<br />not to make you miserable. His will for us is a path to bring us closer to Him so we can<br />discover how much He loves us.<br />Finally, I have not been as affected by Regnum Christi as some others, but I have seen<br />first hand many who have suffered greatly. For this reason, I am writing this letter. I think<br />it is important to voice my story to make clear how the loss of faith and despair is a<br />direct result of the scandal of Fr. Maciel and other priests within the Movement and the<br />measures used to attain and grow the “kingdom” on earth. Regnum Christi deceptively<br />attaches itself to the church. Many people have pointed to “all the good fruit that has<br />come from the Movement.” That is not the way to look at it. Christ never said “ Just pick<br />out the bad fruit and look at the good fruit thatʼs left then youʼll know itʼs from Me.” No, if<br />He is truly present in an order, there can be only good fruit. I firmly believe that the good<br />that came out of our situations was Godʼs grace working and answering the prayers of<br />those young girls and boys, men and women, crying to out to Him to show us His will.<br />God can bring such good out of such evil. People can be deceitful, but God never can.<br />Strangely enough the greatest gift that I received from this environment of deception<br />was trust. I learned to trust in the only thing that does not change, God Himself. Over<br />the years, while I struggled to build up my confidence and regain a sense of self worth, I<br />could throw myself completely in the arms of Christ knowing that He would heal my<br />insecurities. He guided me through life to a point where I am happily married and a<br />mother. Finding Godʼs will in my life has brought its many struggles and will continue to<br />bring many more, but it is my ultimate joy in life as it is the path towards Him.Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00173313916249942935noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728599019626986058.post-69940698742458289572012-06-23T20:48:00.000-07:002012-06-23T20:48:30.591-07:00PagesWe 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.Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00173313916249942935noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728599019626986058.post-34169111229221222502012-06-22T17:02:00.003-07:002012-06-22T17:02:58.137-07:00Two 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 <a href="http://www.facebook.com/ICARhodeIsland">their Facebook page</a><a href="http://www.facebook.com/ICARhodeIsland">, Immaculate Conception Academy</a>, 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?Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00173313916249942935noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728599019626986058.post-53092379275561983662012-06-21T10:18:00.002-07:002012-06-21T10:18:41.079-07:00M's Story<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
February, 2010</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Your Excellency:</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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.
</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
0 – the number of
members of my family still in the Movement</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
0 – the amount of
writing opportunities I was given as a consecrated</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
0 – the number of times
I was able to come home while I was a consecrated member until I left</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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.
</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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.
</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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.</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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.</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
3 – the number of
children in my family that they managed to convince they had a
vocation to the Movement or the Legion</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
3 – the amount of
vocations the Church lost from my family due to bad experiences with
Regnum Christi and the Legion of Christ</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
4 – years. how long I
spent as a Precandidate and consecrated member</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
4 – 4.0 out of 4.0. my
Master’s level GPA</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
7 – the age at which I
remember the Movement first in my life</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
9 –the number of years
my brother lasted in the Legion</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
11 – the number of
books of Green Volumes or Cartas de Nuestro Padre we had to meditate
on during Evening Prayer</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
12- the age at which I
felt called to the Precandidacy, or boarding school for girls
discerning consecrated life</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
16 – my younger
sister’s age when she spent a semester at the Precandidacy in Rhode
Island</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
17 – my age when I made
a spiritual consecrated approved by my spiritual guide in the chapel
in Rhode Island</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
30 – the number of
students that were in the 6<sup>th</sup> 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</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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.
</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
2,000 – the amount of
money I was expected to obtain as a consecrated to fund the mandatory
trip to Rome in 2001</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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.</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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.</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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?</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
? – 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
</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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.
</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Respectfully Yours,</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
M<br />
</div>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00173313916249942935noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728599019626986058.post-91008219869537475272012-06-19T14:11:00.002-07:002012-06-19T14:11:52.819-07:00Former Cosecrated<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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.<br />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.<br />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.<br />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).
</div>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00173313916249942935noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728599019626986058.post-42614353197935021902012-06-13T21:28:00.002-07:002012-06-13T21:28:44.830-07:00Frances's Story<div class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":1,"tn":"K"}">
<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}">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. <br /> <br /> 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. <br /> <br /> 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? <br /> <br /> 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.
<br /> <br /> 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?<br /> <br /> 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. <br /> <br /> 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.<br /> <br /> 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.<br /> <br /> 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. <br /> <br /> 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. <br /> <br /> 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. <br /> <br /> 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. <br /> <br /> 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. <br /> <br /> 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.</span></div>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00173313916249942935noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728599019626986058.post-56642580446515690072012-06-05T18:01:00.003-07:002012-06-05T18:01:42.633-07:00Thoughts on Spiritual Direction<span class="commentBody" data-jsid="text"></span><br />
<div class="text_exposed_root text_exposed" id="id_4fcea706a6b6d3274714203">
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 t<span class="text_exposed_show">he 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. </span></div>
<div class="text_exposed_root text_exposed" id="id_4fcea706a6b6d3274714203">
<span class="text_exposed_show">*Spiritual direction has been reformed again in the last year, but many of us feel it is too little, too late. </span></div>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00173313916249942935noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728599019626986058.post-55160547407100373642012-06-05T11:29:00.001-07:002012-06-05T11:29:27.763-07:00Harriet's ThoughtsThinking 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.Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00173313916249942935noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728599019626986058.post-54645004850793577152012-06-04T10:05:00.000-07:002012-06-04T10:05:37.737-07:00Elle's Story<br />
<div style="font-family: inherit;">
<span style="font-size: small;">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.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: small;">First I would l</span><span style="color: black; font-size: small;">ike
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.</span><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"> </span><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><br /></span><span style="color: black; font-size: small;">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!</span><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><br /></span><span style="color: black; font-size: small;">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?</span></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: small;">Here
is a little more detail of my story…I was a Precandidate from
2000-2003, </span><span style="color: black; font-size: small;">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</span><span style="color: black; font-size: small;">,
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. </span><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><b>Days</b></span><span style="color: black; font-size: small;">
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. </span>
</div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: small;">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</span><span style="color: black; font-size: small;">)
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. </span>
</div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: small;">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. </span>
</div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: small;">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!</span></div>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00173313916249942935noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728599019626986058.post-70178912602381833152012-06-03T08:41:00.000-07:002012-06-03T08:41:58.428-07:00M's Story<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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 <i>really</i> loved were the
ones called to be consecrated. So, if I was called to the <i>mere</i>
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?
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00173313916249942935noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728599019626986058.post-66557923654396265692012-06-02T16:34:00.001-07:002012-06-02T16:34:55.688-07:00Sarah's Story<div class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":1,"tn":"K"}">
<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}">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. <br /> <br /> 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. <br /> <br />
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. </span></div>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00173313916249942935noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728599019626986058.post-83498977097917230582012-06-01T08:48:00.000-07:002012-06-01T08:48:37.729-07:00Anne's Story<div class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":1,"tn":"K"}">
<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"> 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. <br /> <br /> 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. <br /> <br />
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. <br /> <br /> 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. <br /> <br /> 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.<br /> <br /> 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.<br /> <br /> 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.</span></div>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00173313916249942935noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728599019626986058.post-53247732700584234902012-05-31T08:53:00.002-07:002012-05-31T08:53:33.187-07:00Susan's Story<div class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":1,"tn":"K"}">
<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}">I
am among those who did not suffer obvious ill at the PC. I, unlike
many, love rigorous schedules and often just suck up and accept
arbitrary regulations. I am a stoic by nature, to a fault. So, I did not
have the traumatic experiences that others had of feeling pressured,
having nightmares, etc. You might say that I was “cut-out” for the PC.
Looking back and reflecting, however, I think my experience shows even
more so how it was flawed at its foundations and would prove damaging to
anyone. <br /> <br /> First, as someone mentioned earlier, the PC stunted
my ability to make friendships. I had normal, healthy friendships with
boys and girls in middle school. But then, at the PC, I had to stop
cultivating many of these because it wasn’t really encouraged, was it?
Some of these friendships I’m still trying to make up for the two years I
lost. And it wasn’t as if the PC made up for this. Now, all those who I
was a PC with, I love you! But I don’t think I could say in honesty that
I had a true friendship with anyone of you. I wish I could have met you
outside of the PC. And this is because I did not open up ONE BIT to any
of my “companions.” We weren’t supposed to, so I didn’t. I actually
remember thinking ill of one PC who was more familiar to another PC. A
little twisted, I’d say, and I still regret it. Oh! And not knowing why
or when another PC would leave?! I always was a little dumbfounded by
that, but I just kept going on and didn’t question. Another bad fruit: I
also became estranged from some of my immediate family. Again, I’m
still trying to make up for the distance my two PC years created. <br /> <br />
Second, I feel utterly betrayed that RC claimed the simple zeal that is
typical of young people. It’s hard not to become almost cynical after
you throw yourself headlong into a thing, sincerely believing that you
are serving Christ by good means, and it turns out that the seemingly
most sound things are actually horrible. <br /> <br /> Third, the
persecution complex that was fostered at the PC is extremely harmful, I
think. I hate sounding like I’m construing things as a conspiracy
theory, but it is very unsettling that we were all in a way prepared for
persecution (wasn’t there something in MM’s “letters” that talked about
a certain number of crosses or something?), that we were discreetly
taught to distrust and look down upon other groups within the Church. We
all knew that RC was going to be hated wherever it went, but
nonetheless, we should keep doing all the good we knew we were! It’s
awful. I’m still turned off when I hear defenses of RC and the news
about MM saying that we all have crosses to bear, etc…. And remember
learning about the movement’s foundation? Wasn’t it strange that it was
such a good thing that the letter from the Vatican meant to stop its
founding happened to be in the mail office, just not delivered? Didn’t
we all think, back then, “What a miracle!” But wasn’t it slightly odd
that we held RC sort of higher and better than the Church in a way? And
now, I can’t help wondering why it was so difficult for MM to be
ordained, why he got kicked out of so many seminaries. I used to think
these were all trials sent to prove the movement’s greatness. I
definitely don’t think so anymore. <br /> <br /> Fourth, to those who think
the rigorous norms of the PC are similar to religious life, I can’t
really say. But I do know that almost never do nuns leave their orders
once they’ve taken their final vows. Yet many consecrated, especially
those I most looked up to, were constantly leaving. I never could get my
head around that as a PC discerning such a vocation as I firmly held
that a commitment of one’s life should be for life. That so many were
continually and still are leaving shows a severe and deep flaw, I think.<br /> <br />
Finally, thank goodness my Mom started having misgivings by the end of
my 10th grade year and pulled me out! That same year, the news came out
about MM. If I was at the PC, I think that I would have fallen into the
persecution complex, summoned all my stoicism, and kept fighting “for
the Movement.” What the heck was and is the Movement?! Good thing I was
at home and was in a setting that allowed me to realize that it was good
and healthy to question (differing from doubting) that RC was not, in
fact, a supreme and ultimate good. I basically cut myself off entirely
from RC for a while, mostly because I feared falling back into my
previous mindset. I still am fighting against the pressure and guilt of not
sticking it out, especially as superiors had said such things to me as,
“You will be a pillar in the Precandidacy” or “I look forward to seeing
your progression in holiness.” Such things should never be said! It
leads to a false and twisted humility. <br /> </span></div>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00173313916249942935noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728599019626986058.post-81477067490896469442012-05-30T20:04:00.002-07:002012-05-30T20:04:34.393-07:00C's Story<div class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":1,"tn":"K"}">
<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}">When Fr. Maciel came to visit us that summer, we all ate outside and he was at
a head table and they called me up to meet him. He looked at me and
said " you have a vocation to be 3rd Degree Regnum Christi!". That was a
lot of pressure to carry around for a lot of years. If he said it, it
must be true. It took my brother telling me five years later while I was
in the candidacy that I shouldn't hold onto that and it was OK for me to
leave, and I couldn't base my decision on what Fr. Maciel had told me. What if I
hadn't had my brother there as someone I trusted? I know I would
have become consecrated out of guilt.</span></div>
<div class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":1,"tn":"K"}">
<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}">When
I decided to leave the PC after one year I was asked not to, and to
wait and think about it because it would be too hard on the other girls
if I left right then. I went home that week but with much guilt laid on
me for being selfish.</span></div>
<div class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":1,"tn":"K"}">
<br /></div>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00173313916249942935noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728599019626986058.post-80139553573450871102012-05-30T19:47:00.006-07:002012-05-30T19:47:59.505-07:00Lea's Story<div class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":1,"tn":"K"}">
<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}">I've
been a bit afraid to write a little of my experience at the PC
(actually I feel nervous as I'm typing). I started out bright eyed and
bushy tailed as anyone else and CHUGGED the Kool-Aid. I felt pressure from
day one of my summer program to stay at the PC because I'm beginning to think
now that I fit their little mold. I was crying on the phone to my pare<span class="text_exposed_show">nts
when I made the decision to stay. As a 9th grader, they put me in
charge of quite a few things and I felt excited about that, but I never
felt like myself. I liked being a leader a little, but not as much as
they pressured me into. I HATED it! I didn't want to tell my classmates
how to clean the darn classrooms! I didn't want to lead encounters, I
didn't want to sing in front of everyone...yet I was pushed and pushed
and I never revealed my true feelings to anyone because I was too scared
that I wasn't following God's will and (shock! I was freaking 14!)...I
also received a letter from MM when I was ONLY 15...telling me how he
knew I would make a great consecrated (something to that extent). To be
perfectly honest, that was like reading a death sentence. Sorry to be so
dramatic, but at 15 that's honestly how I felt. After that letter my
life went downhill. Every time we went on an outing I envied other
people I would see because they didn't know RC and weren't in the
predicament I was in. I also became ill. Started loosing weight
drastically (which I was complimented on because I had begun to look too
chubby). Finally I had to go to the doctor's several times to have
blood tests done because I was jaundiced and no one knew why. (YES,
stress can mess you up). How was I treated at that point? I was put in
the sick room where the only human being I was able to see in a day was
the poor soul who would bring me food. I remember lying in that room
forced to listen to a tape of MM talking out loud about spiritual
things. It was in that moment I went crazy. He spoke about following
God's will. He said that if your do God's will you will have peace and
inner joy. I wasn't even close to peace and inner joy. In fact I was
in a hole so black life itself didn't seem to matter any more....how
could he say these things? How am I trapped in this room, depressed,
anguished, exhausted, stressed and so confused?? During my entire time
at the PC all I ever wanted was to do God's will. I sincerely did. I
loved God so much but I was so confused. "God I'm trying to do your
will but why do I feel like ending my life?" At that moment I marched
downstairs and called my family. I was out 2 days later. No, I wasn't
able to tell anyone goodby. I did visit the next year, but that visit seems
like a blur. </span></span></div>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00173313916249942935noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728599019626986058.post-48550302662478753352012-05-30T11:31:00.004-07:002012-05-30T11:35:39.944-07:00Shannon's Story<span class="commentBody" data-jsid="text"> I was hom<span class="text_exposed_show">esick
and depressed pretty much my whole (freshman) year as a PC, most
especially after Thanksgiving, but I tried to hide it because I was
supposed to be joyful and didn't want to go against God's will. There
were times I was locking doors at night, and I would think, how hard can
it be to run to the airport from here? But I didn't have a way to get
there, to get on a plane, to go home. I felt so trapped. </span></span><span class="commentBody" data-jsid="text"></span><br />
<div class="text_exposed_root text_exposed" id="id_4fc666f0498763456729957">
I
also remember times that I was woken up at night to lock the doors
again, even though I already had. A Consecrated had to wake me up, and I
know she felt bad, but was told to by someone else. So, I had to walk
in the dark through the school <span class="text_exposed_show">when
everyone was asleep to re-lock a door (that any of the consecrated could
have simply taken care of themselves if they had noticed it!) And I<i> had</i> locked
it. That felt very wrong, even in the cloud of "God's will."</span></div>
<span class="commentBody" data-jsid="text"><span class="text_exposed_show"> Even on the
phone with my family, I pretended everything was ok, because I didn't
want to complain, be unjoyful, or go against God's will. I know the
consecrated must have noticed it eventually, especially in the spring,
because all of a sudden they started giving me responsibilities that I
would never have been chosen for before, since I was more the quiet
type. I was put in charge of a housecleaning group, and told I would be
able to go on a camp in another state (which was cancelled). But I had
my suspicions even then that the consecrated were trying to make me
want to stay. But then my sister
came, and I just wanted to spend time with her, so I wouldn't follow the
"schedule" completely. I couldn't understand why I wouldn't be able to
spend time with my own sister (who I missed so much!) who was in my own
house for a month! So, then I brought up that I wasn't sure if I should
stay (I couldn't take it anymore), and they asked me if I thought maybe
it wasn't God's will for me to be there in the first place.
I said yes, because I hoped that meant I could leave (I was afraid if I
said no that I would have to stay). It was definitely the
hardest year of my life, but God did bring some good lessons and
definitely good friendships out of it.</span></span>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00173313916249942935noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728599019626986058.post-26685613013972962432012-05-29T10:40:00.001-07:002012-05-29T10:40:50.204-07:00Laina's Story<div class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":1,"tn":"K"}">
<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}">After
leaving the PC I felt a lot of peace and relief, and though I got angry
and felt unwanted and rejected, it was a slow build over time. During
the following two years it crept up on me that my life at the PC, though
beautiful in many ways, and valued, was harmful and left me broken. I
also kept in close contact with a few other disgruntled PCs, even
rooming with a couple of them, and I think hearing their
anger and frustration made me feel both understood, and also not as bad
off. I was able to move past it and leave it all behind. Not necessarily
in a forgiveness act, but just because my two years at the PC feels
like a different life, a different world, and I was certainly a different
person living it out. It's easier to just leave it where I don't have to
look at it anymore. One of the hardest things for me was the
restriction on relationships. The silence between sections. The
disappearances. That topic is difficult to discuss still to this day.
But here are the two things that come to mind when I reflect on the
PC.....<br /> <br /> 1. What saddens me is the complete lack of attention my
specific gifts and talents were given. (and every other girl's unique
offerings) It seemed there were a small handful of favored PCs who were
given privileges, and a small group of "talented" PCs who were the go-to
singers or writers and so forth. But there were so many hidden gems who
were never encouraged or recognized for their unique qualities. It was
always about molding to the type, silencing anything that differed. It's
almost humorous to me now, seeing where I have come at the end of all
that. As a PC I was told often that I could not sing; my creativity was
never used. I remember DESPERATELY wanting to help prepare the Christmas
room, or even sing in the choir. But I was never considered "creative."
Now, I run an artist collective, I am a producer in a reputable film
company, I run a non-profit artist collective, I sit on the board of an
International Film Festival, I am a booking agent for a venue that
brings in major bands, and I tour with my band which has released two
albums. That sounds horrible egotistical and boasting and I PROMISE I am
not trying to sound that way.... there are so many of you who have
accomplished so much more or things that are so very different. But I
use it as an example, one that I think so many of us can add our own
"where we are now" experiences to, that show how few of us were given an
opportunity to be challenged and excel in our individual gifts. I would
love to hear a running list of where everyone else landed with their
varied gifts and interests. Though I may not have openly thought this at
the time, I look back now and wonder how anyone really thought they
knew me. Art is my life and yet I was kept so far from it. I found it
so sad as I witnessed so many incredibly talented women around me. <br /> <br />
2. One of the most important things I remind myself of is that our
formators and most of the consecrated who handled me on a regular basis,
were really children themselves! I am already five years older now than
most of the women giving me guidance and criticism. I can't imagine
having that kind of a responsibility at 21 and 22 years old! Many of
them had not even been to college yet. I am not saying that is too young
to choose to give your life to God necessarily, but to be in charge of
shaping a teenager's world-view and, more importantly, perception of
herself? It's preposterous, the responsibility they were given. I don't
know if I can really blame them for much. My time at the PC is something
I don't think I will ever fully be able to explain to anyone who did
not experience it, and in many ways my mind doesn't allow me to fully
remember it very clearly. It is the other PCs that I will never forget.
Their faces, their voices. There are some of you I could swear I was in
the same room with just yesterday. There were moments I cherish, and a
happiness that came if from nowhere else than just the simplicity of it
all. I will always be grateful for that.</span></div>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00173313916249942935noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728599019626986058.post-73261110359455479812012-05-28T13:08:00.001-07:002012-05-28T13:08:31.343-07:00Sheila's Story, Part IFor years I have been blogging. For years I have studiously <i>not</i>
talked about my experiences at boarding school. I've been afraid of
criticism, mainly. Unfortunately there's a lot of controversy
surrounding the whole thing, so when I talk about my experiences, I'm
sometimes accused of stirring up controversy. But for me, it's never
been a matter of controversy, it's just my life.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
It's
taken me years to come to a point where I can be even remotely
objective about the whole thing. For a long time, I would brook no
criticism, defend to the death even things I had disagreed with at the
time. Later, I swung around the other way and couldn't even talk about
it because of all the bad memories it was bringing up for me. Now, I
look back on it and it's just one of many things that went into the
making of me ... not everything, not nothing, just one thing. And I'm
done wondering whether it could have been different, what I would have
been like otherwise ... it's irrelevant because I am what I am now, and I
love my life -- I wouldn't change a thing, if it meant things would be
different now. I've come through a lot, both good and bad, to arrive at
my present life, which is wonderful. I can't exactly wish any of it
away.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So, I've resolved to finally come out and
tell my story. I'm going to try to be as objective as I can, and let
you all draw your own conclusions. A lot of people I went to school
with had completely different experiences, some better and some much
worse, so keep in mind that I'm not telling the whole story. I'm only
telling <i>my</i> story.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Here are the basic facts. In 1998 I encountered a group called <a href="http://www.regnumchristi.org/english/">Regnum Christi</a>.
They are a lay movement within the Church that still exists. I first
joined the youth arm, called ECYD. In 2000, when I was fourteen, I went
to a boarding school that exists for girls who want to discern a
vocation to the consecrated life in Regnum Christi. The school is
officially called Immaculate Conception Academy, but we called it "the
precandidacy." In 2002, at the end of my sophomore year, I was sent
home. For years I tried to get back there, while being an active Regnum
Christi member. Two and a half years into college, I finally left
Regnum Christi for good in 2006.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The story
starts, as I said, in 1998. I had just finished my years of
conventional schooling, one year of public school and two years of
parochial school, and my parents had agreed to let me return to
homeschooling for seventh and eighth grade. I had been miserable at
school, so I was thrilled and ready for some change in my life. A
friend of my mom's from church happened to mention a summer camp I could
go to. I'd never been to a real camp, and really wanted to go. It was
a Catholic camp on a lake, run by these Regnum Christi people I'd heard
of.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
That summer I went to the camp and had a
really great time. Instead of the cliquish and cruel classmates I'd
been dealing with, there were lots of really nice girls who were very
accepting of my awkward self. I made friends, a real challenge for me
usually. The two ladies who ran the camp were my idols. They told us
that they were consecrated women, "like nuns, but we take promises
instead of vows and don't wear a habit." They were both young and
pretty, and wore nice clothes, like businesswomen. They smiled all the
time and were always really nice. At one point I was called to talk
alone with one of them, and thought I was in trouble. Instead they
asked if I wanted to join this group they'd been talking about, ECYD. I
said I really, really wanted to, but I would have to talk to my parents
first. So I didn't get to join at that camp. The girls who had called
home to get permission all had an "incorporation ceremony," where they
made promises and got little commitment cards. The commitments were
very easy -- a few short prayers a day -- and you got to take a rosary
ring home with you. I envied those girls fiercely.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
After
that I took every opportunity to go to camps and retreats these people
put on. At a beachside retreat, I finally incorporated into ECYD
myself. I saw it as a way to finally turn my life around, stop the
misery I'd experienced with my worldly life at school with the cliques
and the dirty jokes and the meanness. Instead I was going to be holy
and good and pure, all the time! I felt extremely guilty that I'd been a
Catholic for all these years and had never made it my own. So I made
it a point to. I read the catechism and the Bible. I changed my radio
from the pop station (which I didn't really like, but listened to so I
wouldn't be shown up for my cultural ignorance) to the Christian
station. I stopped reading trashy novels and switched to the classics.
All of this fit in very well with my new life situation -- with
Catholic, homeschooled friends and friends I met through ECYD, rather
than the popular kids at school who would laugh at you if you didn't
play along with their dirty jokes, dating games, and popularity clubs. I
even got my formidable temper under some kind of control, and
eventually rid my life of the gigantic temper fits I had been in the
habit of throwing. (I'm sure my parents heaved a sigh of relief at that
one!)</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Those two years of my junior high were
kind of a golden age for me. I was finally making my faith my own --
even praying the rosary sometimes before going to sleep at night. I
began talking to God again, like I used to do when I was very little. I
also began to follow my own interests more, beginning to write a lot,
to work on crafts, to spend a lot of time outside. My mom supported me
in everything, saying the ECYD prayers with me morning and night along
with our usual prayers and driving me to club meetings.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
That
was kind of odd, by the way. We had been told at camp that the "girls'
club" was for ECYD members and others who were interested, and yet ECYD
was never mentioned. The explanation was that we, the ECYD members,
would be the secret heart of the club, and all the other girls would
want to join too when they saw us. From time to time the consecrated
women would show up for "spiritual direction" with those of us who were
members. I never knew what to talk about.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
After
about a year, I think after my second camp, I had a strange dream. In
the dream, I was at camp, but at the end of camp, all of us girls joined
the consecrated women. We were dressed as nuns and we were all
rapturously happy. I woke up with the idea that I had received a Call.
We'd heard tons of vocation stories, and there was always this moment
when someone realized they were called to the consecrated life.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I
reached for my Bible and flipped it open at random, hoping to "get a
word" that would tell me what to do. (I didn't know then, but I do now,
that this practice, called the sortes bibliorum, is condemned by the
Church as superstition.) I got Isaiah 54 and read until I got to the
point when I read, "He who has become your husband is your maker; His
name is the Lord God of hosts." That settled it for me. I definitely
had a vocation.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I had already heard of this
school in Rhode Island where high schoolers who thought they had
vocations could go. It sounded like a perfect idea to me, the next step
in changing my life to what I wanted it to be -- something holier,
better, closer to God. And, since I now had a vocation, I should
definitely go!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I told my parents and they were
skeptical. In fact, my dad pretty much just said no. "You're
thirteen," they said. "You never stick to anything. You'll change your
mind."</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I didn't change my mind. I stuck by my
determination for a whole year. Two consecrated women (they always
travel in pairs) visited my home and talked to my parents. They seemed
to know exactly the topics my parents would listen to: to my mom, they
talked about prayer; to my dad, about the problems in the world and the
Church. With me, they were a bit more doubtful. They were not at all
convinced by my claim to "have a call" to the consecrated life, but they
said there was no problem with me going to the summer program at their
school and seeing if I wanted to go.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Eventually,
my parents agreed that I could go. I saved up money to help buy my
plane ticket, and in the summer of 2002, at age 14, I finally went. My
main plan was to stay and go to school there, but my mom and I had
tossed around other possibilities too. It was possible, I admitted,
that it wasn't for me. My mom was more concerned that they wouldn't let
me stay.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I flew out to Rhode Island near the end of July, as excited as I had ever been in my life.</div>
<div>
More of Sheila's story <a href="http://agiftuniverse.blogspot.com/2011/01/my-past-part-ii.html">here </a></div>
<div>
</div>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00173313916249942935noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728599019626986058.post-61272668256515488562012-05-27T19:41:00.000-07:002012-05-27T19:42:07.632-07:00Jennifer's Story<div class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":1,"tn":"K"}">
<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}">I
was there my freshman year and the start of my
sophmore year. I know it wasn't all horrible, but there are many things
that left a very bitter taste in my mouth, and I know that overshadows
all the fun times that I had on outings, seeing the Christmas room, etc.
For whatever it's worth, I just can't bring myself to practice religion
anymore. I truly believe it's the result of having everything dictated
as "God's will". My life is much more peaceful now without worrying
about any of that. <br /> <br /> My biggest regret from being a PC is how we
weren't allowed "special" friendships. I know I was there with amazing
girls, and it kills me that I didn't make lasting friendships. How is it
even possible to put so many girls into the same dormitory, eating
together, studying together, praying together, and at the same time know
almost nothing about them? We should all have gotten into mischief,
stayed up late playing ridiculous teenage truth or dare games, and
generally been super close to each other. It's been 13 years since then,
and I still struggle to make lasting friendships. I have to force "girl
time" because it just seems strange to me - thankfully I have a handful
of amazing friends, but I feel like it was easy to make friends prior
to the PC, and it's something I have to work at now. Somehow that part
of me got lost. <br /> <br /> Many parts of me got lost, really. I feel like
the spiritual direction/confession process was really just another name
for stripping away my personality and making me an obedient little PC. I
was continuously told I was proud, that I had faults, etc. That really
wore on me as a freshman, and I ended up with ridiculously low self
esteem. Instead of a lecture, most often I really could have just used a
hug. I don't think that anyone was really looking out for me. I had
some knee troubles that first year, and was on crutches for what seemed
like forever (anyone remember how fast I could swing myself down the
glass corridor on those things though? Haha). My doctor wanted me to
rehab it by doing some swimming and exercises to strengthen it, but my
formators denied my family's request because it would have taken me too
far outside of the big-S schedule. While I was hobbling around on
crutches, I was criticized for not completing my housework completely - I
had the dorm bathrooms at that time. I got a lecture about how I should
be able to figure out how to empty the personal hygiene trash bins in
each stall. To this day, I'm still unsure how they expected me to pick
those suckers up and carry them to the main trash can while on crutches.
Same thing for my asthma - I was told to "offer it up" whenever I'd
encounter triggers and start wheezing, rather than staying healthy and
not sweeping up dust, etc. </span></div>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00173313916249942935noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728599019626986058.post-66501362292576121032012-05-27T16:54:00.000-07:002012-05-27T19:38:47.824-07:00Sara's Story<div class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":1,"tn":"K"}">
<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}">
It's been over 10 years since I left RI and I'm still trying to process
and get over a lot of the anger and bitterness that I feel towards RC.
When I started 9th grade, I was really excited about my new "vocation". A
month or two into 9th grade I started to notice a difference in how
certain girls were treated (looking back, it was the "leader girls"
being groomed for positions). I felt like I could never be one of those
sparkling popular girls so I retreated into myself. <br /> <br /> 10th grade
came around and I decided (in typical teenage fashion) that since I
couldn't ever be one of the popular girls, I could get attention by
being a rebel<span class="text_exposed_show">. So I skipped classes, hid
from the consecrated (closets, suitcase room, showers... I got creative
lol) and read a million books. I was trying to get them to send me home
because I didn't want the responsibility of choosing to "abandon my
vocation." For some reason they wouldn't send me home. I finally left at
the end of 10th grade, only to get home and have a fit of conscience,
and realize that I "needed" to be in the PC. So after begging and
pleading I returned to the PC for the end of my 11th grade, only to
leave again. <br /> <br /> I think one of the biggest issues that I have
with everything is the methodology. For a while there, I stopped seeing
my friends as my friends, but only as prospective PC's (face to faces).
It reduces the value of every human being to "leader" vs "non leader"
and how they can be used "for the good of the Kingdom". It makes me
sick. <br /> <br /> I think a small part of me is still trying to get over
the brainwashing. I still have dreams about the PC and it's always
filled with the exciting "you're so special" crap. A tiny part of me
wanted to go to the Reunion, to get sucked back into the shiny plastic
world of the Movement. It took me years to realize there was anything
wrong with the Movement, and even longer to even talk about it.</span></span></div>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00173313916249942935noreply@blogger.com0