Two are better than one; because they have a good reward for their labour.

If you'd like to do something to prevent Regnum Christi from marketing the Precandidacy to children, visit their Facebook page, Immaculate Conception Academy, and leave a comment with your thoughts about the school.  They're deleting any comments that don't construe ICA through the magically rosy prism of Regnum Christi, but why not keep them busy for a while, wearing out their backspace buttons?

M's Story

This letter was given to Bishop Ricardo Watty Urquidi in Mexico City in February of 2010 during the visitation of the Legion. Bishop Watty also listened very patiently to my story and in a private aside, told me how sorry he was for what I went through. For personal reasons, I am withholding my name from this document as I do not want my life to be linked to Regnum Christi on the internet anymore, but I can be reached by means of this blog and will happily confirm my identity and the details contained within. I am so grateful to the other precandidates and consecrated who have shared their stories as it has filled me with great peace to know that after all these years we are finally supporting each other and able to say what we really think. I am sad when I think that we suffered so much in silence, isolated from each other by the rules regarding silence and not having friendships.

February, 2010

Your Excellency:

I have been pondering this letter for about a week since I knew I would have the opportunity to present this letter to you, and my mind began to fill with ideas and emotions. I have written so many stories about the pain and suffering Regnum Christi left in my life, an anguish so severe that I tried to take my own life. I’m sure you don’t have time to read the screenplay that I created to express in story form what I went through as a member of the Third Degree of Regnum Christi. Or the 150 pages I wrote about my “vocation story” while I was recovering from my overdose. Or the numerous short stories and articles that I composed in moments of therapeutic renewal. Long before I was convinced by the consecrated women that being consecrated was the only true vocation to happiness, I knew that my vocation in life was to be a writer. So let me poetically give you the numbers that may be the most effective way of expressing the depth of the loss and utter devastation that was my life as a consecrated member.

0 – the number of members of my family still in the Movement

0 – the number of consecrated who called me and wrote me to see how I was doing once I got home from Mexico. That is also the number of events they invited me to. I tried to start a Regnum Christi group at my college so they would include me, but after crying at one retreat, I never came back. My former directress, Pilar, did all that she could to help me, but I was bound by my Promises of Charity not to speak badly of my spiritual guide, even though I was being psychologically destroyed

0 – my clinical depression before consecration in Regnum Christi. During my second year, we were given MMPIs (the Minnesota Multiphasic Personality Inventory) and made to draw psychoanalytic images. Not surprisingly, I drew a weeping willow tree, a classic symbol of depression, and my MMPI scores were higher than I ever saw when working in a clinical practice

0 – the amount of writing opportunities I was given as a consecrated

0 – the number of times I was able to come home while I was a consecrated member until I left

1 – the number of times I read the Statutes even though my then spiritual guide told me it was not necessary, that the ones about finances were not important to know. I also read the complete Manual of Principles and Norms and the lesser known Manual de Urbanidad which talked about how to walk, how to dress, how to hold one’s spoon, etc. We were told that all of those documents represented God’s will for us and were approved by the Church

2 – the years I spent in the Precandidacy when my Dad let me go after 2 years as I was so crazed by my supposed vocation and all the brainwashing I received about true happiness only being with “God’s Will” and their promises about their happiness that I broke a window

2 – the number of people I was allowed to say goodbye to when I left consecrated life. They were from another section and so they didn’t know I was leaving for good and I couldn’t tell them for “charity.” I just said, “goodbye” when they dropped me off at the airport. My directresses did not say goodbye or hug me either. One supervised my packing and never said anything like a goodbye or “I will miss you.” Another saw me in the chapel before I went to the airport and did not say a word.

2 – the number of my sisters’ weddings that I had to miss even though my family offered to pay for my trip as I was not allowed to attend as a consecrated member. One sister still does not forgive for not having asked for “special permission” to go. I was so faithful to the norms that I would not ask to be considered different from other members.

2 – the number of people I told about how suicidal I was as a consecrated: my spiritual guide and my Mom. My spiritual guide continued to emotionally abuse me by constantly picking on every weakness I had. My Mom told me that I probably had an illness called depression and it could be treated with medication and therapy. My spiritual guide was very angry and since my Mom knew I was unwell, they told me they had to send me home. In retrospect, that person was probably trying to follow the rules of the Movement, but they were harmful to me and left deep wounds on my psyche for many years that followed.

2 – the amount of people in my family who no longer consider themselves Catholic as a result of seeing horrible hypocrisy in the Legion of Christ and Regnum Christi. Yes, I am one of them.

2 – the number of years it took for the Movement to send me my transcripts from my years of formation so that I could graduate from college after leaving. I had to threaten to sue them before they would tell me where I could get my transcripts, and they tried to charge me exorbitant sums for what most schools consider a free service

3 – the number of children in my family that they managed to convince they had a vocation to the Movement or the Legion

3 – the Third Degree of Regnum Christi. We were told that we were like St. Claire to St. Francis, the modern “nuns” to the Legion. Please pay attention to these women who have always gone ignored and will continue to be ignored unless you hear their stories. Many of them are good women who have been brainwashed and used to become recruiting and fundraising machines

3 – the amount of vocations the Church lost from my family due to bad experiences with Regnum Christi and the Legion of Christ

4 – years. how long I spent as a Precandidate and consecrated member

4 – the Private Promises that we made on August 22, 2000 in the presence of Fr. Anthony Bannon, L.C., which we also signed a form for

4 – 4.0 out of 4.0. my Master’s level GPA

5 - the steps of recruitment. I still remember them after 8 years. Friendship, Interest, Trust, Commitment, Surrender. Regnum Christi uses “redes” or nets to recruit people. They hide under other names and earn people’s friendship. Then, one piqued their interest in the Movement. Eventually, after one won their trust, one had to gain their surrender to “God’s will for them” which surely was Regnum Christi, because, as they explained, Regnum Christi was so wonderful. I spent many years in the Movement before I learned these steps as a consecrated. It was then that I realized I had been deceived and this was something totally different than what I had signed up for. I gradually realized I was being pressured to do 2 things – recruit and fundraise – and I had never wanted to do that with my life

5 – minutes. the average amount of free time we had in between each activity so that we were unable to have time to think or for self-reflection

5 – the years for which I endured traumatic flashbacks in which things that I had dissociated came back to me suddenly in a terrifying way

6 – the number of girls in my Precandidacy class who got consecrated. I think one might still be consecrated, but I am not sure. The rest are all out. One girl in our class was anorexic and the rest of the girls began to eat as little as possible. When she was in the hospital, I overhead the directress of the school telling the priest not to give her Communion unless she ate

7 – the age at which I remember the Movement first in my life

7 – the number of days I spent under medications after my overdose while the doctors saved my life. My life was saved because as I was about to die from internal bleeding, I received a picture in my head that I could not die because there existed the possibility that I could have a family and a happy life as a writer. Because of that possibility, I was taken to the hospital

8 – the number of years I have spent in psychotherapy recovering from the Movement, beginning at 3 times a week and gradually going down to once a week when I could hold off my depression that long

9- the age at which they began to recruit me. Please note that I was not at an age in which children have yet developed complex reasoning

9 –the number of years my brother lasted in the Legion

10 – the number of pounds I lost when I got the rotavirus after telling my spiritual guide that I didn’t understand how the Movement would fulfill its mission if all we did was work in schools and she told me that I was talking like an enemy of the Movement. My directress ordered me to gain back the weight over the next months but I was so depressed I was barely able to chew food

11 – the number of books of Green Volumes or Cartas de Nuestro Padre we had to meditate on during Evening Prayer

12- the age at which I felt called to the Precandidacy, or boarding school for girls discerning consecrated life

12- the number of spiritual guides I had throughout my time in the Movement. Often, it was pure torture because they were chosen for me, and only Maricarmen Perochena really liked me as a person. My spiritual guide during my second year of consecrated life emotionally abused me because of my “pride” until I became suicidal

13- the age at which my Dad allowed my brother to enter the Apostolic School after long disagreeing with Fr. Bannon, the then Territorial Director of the US, and the head of the Apostolic School about how boys were separated from their families as being non-Catholic in spirit

14- my older brother’s age when upon the story of another then-Apostolic they witnessed a Legionary at the bed of a third Apostolic at night

15 – the number of ReGAIN members, more or less, who comforted me and guided me when I was the Movement’s garbage and had no one to give me insight into my situation. I was given the equivalent of free therapy, many great friends, and healing

16 – my younger sister’s age when she spent a semester at the Precandidacy in Rhode Island

17 – my age when I made a spiritual consecrated approved by my spiritual guide in the chapel in Rhode Island

20 – the amount of visits I made to the Blessed Sacrament every day for which I was constantly sent back to clean my room and make my bed better because you can’t have both

24- my age when I accepted that I had been badly treated by the Movement and left to die of depression by them. I decided not to die, but to live and to find a new meaning in my life even though I could not imagine anything outside of consecrated life

26 – July 26, 2002, the day I flew home from Monterrey, Mexico so suicidal I could no longer think clearly, but so integrated into what being consecrated meant that I could not help myself from recruiting members on the airplane

28 – the number of days a year I was allowed to spend at home as a Precandidate. My Dad was especially upset that we were never allowed to come home until the day after Christmas

30 – the number of students that were in the 6^th grade class I gave Spiritual Direction to in Monterrey as we started to recruit them to consecrated life. I feel guilty as I remember their names and their faces and afraid of what the Movement might have done to them in their futures

40 – the number of times I estimate that I wrote to Maciel in Rome over the years. I’m sure it was more, and I actually got some 4 or 5 letters back from somebody praising my fidelity. I often wonder what kind brother wrote that to me and what inspired him to feel pity for me

150 – the number of Aspirin I took on Sept. 11, 2003 when I could no longer bear the thought that happiness could never be mine as I was not good enough to be consecrated

500 – the cost of the airline flight home when I was suicidal which the consecrated ordered my parents to pay for. They gave me $50 to take in case I needed to buy food and instructed me to return the rest of the money and the suitcase upon my arrival to my home. They also looked over my clothes and books and told me what I could take home. I was advised to leave as many clothes as possible so other consecrated could use them and only allowed to bring back my personal journals and letters from Maciel. When I got back home, I had a mostly empty suitcase and no clothes to wear at home since I had last been living at home at age 15, and not a cent to my name. All of my savings had been spent as a teenager going to conventions and retreats.

2,000 – the amount of money I was expected to obtain as a consecrated to fund the mandatory trip to Rome in 2001

2,921 – the number of days in 8 years. how many nightmares I estimate that I have had since leaving consecrated life as symptoms of Post-traumatic stress disorder. I have one that I remember about once a week, so it would be safe to say that I have one every night during the other dreams that I don’t remember.

8,000 – probably a low guess for what my parents paid for my overdose hospital bills. I don’t know how much it costs to save someone’s life, but considering half of my blood was replaced, I guess a lot.

10,000 – a very low estimate as to the amount of money my parents gave to the Legion of Christ. If you count $5,000 a year for each one of us children, as what the Legion requested for school years and later as full-time members, it would probably be at least $60,000 USD. How much of that money was spent to fund Maciel’s sexual escapades or will be given to his sons? Did any of that money go to pay for our formation?

17,280 – an estimate of how much I personally have paid into 8 years of therapy plus gasoline and parking, plus all that my parents have put in. I would guess it surpassed $40,000. Try going to school full-time, working full-time while depressed, and paying living expenses, school, and therapy while it is a struggle every day just to figure out if you want to be alive. The consecrated told me I would not regret giving Christ the first chance, and he turned out to be a nice person, but I most definitely regret giving Regnum Christi the first chance in my life

? – the number of papers I signed when I left promising not to reveal secrets about the Movement and not to speak badly of it. At least, I think that was what it said but I was so suicidal I mostly just signed as I was incapable of understanding the forms

Thousands – the number of girls still involved with Regnum Christi and the Third Degree who are being used, brainwashed and manipulated into thinking their lifestyle is the only true way to happiness, that Marcial Maciel was a living saint who brought God’s message to them, and that Regnum Christi is the only true path to holiness for them. I hold constant sadness in my heart for these women and I can only hope that the Church may free them from this terrible situation.

Dear Bishop, I came out of Regnum Christi suicidal, depressed with dissociation and symptoms of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. I am not alone. Many young girls have been tossed out of consecrated life like garbage, just as I was, and left without guidance, support, or any sort of help in creating a new life. I do not believe that I was called by God to that life. I believe that I was brainwashed from the age of nine, and that when they got what they wanted out of me, I was thrown to the curb. Please believe that this cannot be a work of God, and it is only from my own experience of the loving hand of God in my life that I still believe in him. However, I cannot ever return to a Church that knew about the horrors within the Movement and chose to ignore it for more than fifty years, long before I ever would have joined, and could have prevented me from ever suffering what I did. I cannot return to a Church where the Pope praised the Movement and Marcial Maciel so many times in public, which was crucial to my entering and believing in it, when the evidence about the group was so craftily being hidden. It is too late to win me back to the Church, but if you act quickly and deftly, you may still be able to save the faith of others.

Respectfully Yours,

M

Former Cosecrated

I would like to share one thing with all the former precandidates, if you are trying to figure out why you were treated the way you were, I suggest you give up and remember the following - your formators had NO TRAINING WHATSOEVER on how to help you be a better person, how to respect your human rights, how to develop your personal talents or help you discern a vocation. The only training they were given was how to get you to comply with the ideals and discipline and how to make you feel God's calling. We acted as if we were equipped for the task set out for us, and interpreted attitudes, family background, any silly thing into a psychological diagnosis, then used that to determine if you had a vocation or not. Those of you who were told you didn’t have a vocation probably did not feel the mold of the perfect 3gf or you weren't easy to brainwash - you thought for yourselves and were not "docile." If any of you had an obvious best friend, we got really scared and concluded you did not have a call. If you had a “particular friendship,” you would be asked to leave, or we would be overly strict with you so you would decide to leave on your own. We all definitely thought we were doing God's will. Sometimes something we said to a PC came directly from a vicedirector or director who asked us to mention it to a certain PC, sometimes we didn´t even know why, but we trusted. So, if you feel confused because you don't understand why someone treated you a certain way well, this might be 80 or 90% of your answer. No one saw you as an END, only as a MEANS to benefit the Movement and enlarge the numbers for the consecrated life. I know, things are changing, there are more humane rules, etc etc bla bla bla... I am talking about how it was THEN, before 2009 (maybe 2010). Formation for formators was offered after they had the job, not before, they were not tested to ensure they could carry out the task. The lack of training, the youth and inexperience of the consecrated who were charged with forming you, and the excessive power we were given, magnified our flaws and defects and you were the fallout. Just remember, there isn't, nor was there anything wrong with you girls, and don't worry if you can't solve the whole puzzle.

We had very clear guidelines on our role and on how to lead you, but authority was given too much power and too little responsibility. Everyone was taught to treat those in authority like little gods and never to question them, correct them or doubt them. That was unbalanced and made our defects, flaws, mistakes and egotism influence our actions and attitudes. No one consciously thought she was damaging the PCs, but I bet many of us did question if those means were right. Some of us even made suggestions of changes, but not even the director herself was listened to.
Every week we sent reports on human and practical matters about the PCs under our care to the vice-director. Every two months, we all put together a report the director sent to the territorial director, informing on each point of the yearly work program for the Precandidacy. And attached "particular cases" of PCs either because of their leadership as future formators or because they were trouble, or their family was trouble, or because we had questions.
Once upon a time, a territorial director came to visit. The topic of one of the meetings was that we realized we had divided PCs in 3 groups (accidentally): "future formators" (leaders, good recruiters or very obedient PC's who influenced others), trouble/issue/always sick/reluctant PCs and THE NORMALS!!! hahahahaha We realized we were not dedicating time or attention to the normals because we had our hands full with all the goals they gave us to form the FF and trying to make peace with the trouble PCs. So we had all these resolutions to attend to the "normals". Believe it or not, if you were on the "normals" list, you are probably not hurting much now, did not feel pressure to leave or stay, we did not worry if you never went for dependence and we did not inform much about you.
One thing I still can't understand is that there was never any sex ed! Perhaps this is why so many have had difficulties with sentimental relationships, emotions, dating and even husbands. Maybe you got that education later on - lucky you! Some left their home at 14 or 15 and went back at 18 or in their 20s. During that time many of your friends had their hearts broken, got sharper at dating, lost naivity and had helpful experiences regarding sexuality (some not helpful at all hahaha). And then the ex-pc arrives home and the whole guy thing gets complicated, she does not know how to handle it. I find the lack of sex ed at the PC and even 3gf life to also be one of the "damaging" aspects, even if we didn't clearly notice it. Some 3gf suggested to higher superiors to include some books on sex education during formation years. The answer was no, it was "imprudent" because, what if they got aroused while reading that information? (yep, my jaw dropped too when I heard the answer).

Frances's Story

Thank you to one and all who have shared your stories so far. I don't know many of you at all, and others I lived with for three years and still barely know--but I am truly grateful for this group bringing us closer together. Funny we've discovered more about each other over the internet in a month than years of living together.

I was at the PC for 3 years, I left after my junior year. I went to the PC as an escape from my home--my family had just moved, I didn't have friends, and I was depressed. My options were homeschool or PC, so I got the hell out of Dodge.

It's been absolutely amazing and eye-opening to me to think back to the insane life that was the PC. Yet, there we were, tucked back in there, us Russian Princesses and Nuns of Naragganset, better than our peers because we had chosen to give our lives to God. Those other mere mortals were living flamboyant and sinfully pleasurable lives; because wasn't life all about sacrifice and self-denial?

For a group that preached "universal Christian charity" it's amazing to think how much we judged any and all who weren't doing exactly as we were. "Oh, she must not be generous with God, she is going HOME". "Oh did you hear? So and so had fun/danced/got pregnant/etc etc." Seriously?! Who were we to judge or say what God's will was for someone else? We were better somehow for giving our lives to God, others who were called to vocations such as marriage were lesser beings, not capable of the love and devotion we chosen souls were capable of. The hubris of those thoughts disgusts me even as I write it.

That feeling of superiority was only escalated in those horrific team balances. I honestly can't for the life of me think of what could possibly have been said between us docile and charitable PCs, but I'm going to bet that absolutely everything that was said was petty and overly scrupulous. For what? To ruin the shred of self-worth we may have felt that week?

Everything was so calculated so as to look perfect, yet hearing the common themes of depression, eating disorders, and low self esteem rampant at the PC, that very façade takes on an eerily sinister note. I'm sure the majority of our parents thought they were doing us a favor sending us to such a "prestigious institution", yet what message were they getting? Clearly not an accurate one. The silence amongst ourselves only masked the truth, a show of happiness cleverly hidden under strict norms.

How is it that 80 girls could live so close together, do absolutely everything together for years, and yet know so little about each other? I think we were only allowed to speak a total of about 30 minutes a day, maybe less. The rest of the time we walked about like drones, taking in what we were told we could take in, nothing more, nothing less.

The very essence of what it means to be a human, to have the freedom to choose was taken away and put inside the tightest of boxes: the schedule. Every minute of every day was planned out, to the point that if you got constipated, good luck. Your free time didn't allow enough time to remedy that problem.

I remember one year after final exams, going outside and yelling FREEEEDOOMMMM (braveheart style) with a couple other PC's. We earned a intolerably long lecture about the inappropriateness of such behavior. We were teenagers, for Christ's sake.

Any type of creativity or originality was stifled under the pretext of "God's will", an all encompassing mandate I have come to loathe. A God who is a God of love would not want so many of us to be in constant physical and mental pain. I remember going to the doctor at one point, because I couldn't run on account of intense back pain. He told me he'd never seen a back so bad, especially on someone so young. "Why?" I asked. "Stress", he replied.

No kidding. The weight of constantly trying to achieve an unattainable level of perfection taxed our bodies to the max. I distinctly remember telling Heidi I was going to leave after the school year ended, and walking out of her office and down the long hallway. It was like a weight was lifted off my shoulders. I had no idea until that moment that something internal could be felt so dramatically, so distinctly.

It took a long time for me to realize after leaving the PC that it is perfectly ok, dare I say normal, to sit back and relax. I don't think there was ever time to unwind in our schedule. Instead we were frantically going from one thing to another, spinning the hamster wheel faster and faster not even realizing we were going nowhere.

I absolutely shudder when I think of the life I led in high school. I've blocked much of it out. All I wanted was a "normal" high school life, with crushes and dances and extracurriculars and freedom. I know I've rambled on, but there are a few things I'd like to make clear. One, I'm so grateful to know each one of you, as well or as little as I do. We went through a type of hell together, and lived to tell the tale. Thank you for your friendship and support. And two, freedom has become my life mantra. I'm a firm believer in doing what you want in life, and being HAPPY. Life is too short to live otherwise. I wish you all happiness in your lives.

I had a nightmare the other night that I was back at the PC, and was being shuttled from activity and prayer then more prayer and activity. Then I stopped. And said no, I won't do it. And just left. It felt almost as freeing as the day I actually did.

Thoughts on Spiritual Direction

When I was there, in 2009, we had been told that the directors would no longer give spiritual direction. I didn't find out until later (not from the LC communique) that part of the indication, in keeping with canon law, was that we were to have freedom in choosing our own spiritual guides and that they didn't have to be from the Movement. When I was there, the spiritual guides were still assigned, and were from the same team of directors, even though your SD wouldn't be your personal director. Also we were to continue going to "formation dialogue" with the director, and there seemed to be no difference whatsoever between spiritual direction and formation dialogue. We were still clearly told in directives, etc. to tell the director everything in complete openness, and that spiritual guidance was just there from the Church as "additional support." We were also told in directives that there was no change in spirit, and that in practice what we had been doing with the director as SD was correct - we had just been using the wrong terminology and were to begin calling it formation dialogue. From my current understanding, that wasn't exactly what the Holy See meant when it sent the indication to change that practice... So I'm not sure that I would agree that it was "well implemented." In the Church, there is a clear distinction between the role of the director, in terms of obedience, and the role of the spiritual guide, and that hadn't been drawn in the Movement yet, and the role of personal freedom in choosing your spiritual guide had not been implemented, or communicated. It is possible that it has been changed further since the delegate took office, because I know one of his points of focus was the matter of conscience, part of which directly related to the SD/confession issues. 

*Spiritual direction has been reformed again in the last year, but many of us feel it is too little, too late.

Harriet's Thoughts

Thinking of the reunion and going back to see friends brings up something that has always really upset me about my high school experience. The idea/reality that we couldn't have "particular" friends. Don't get me wrong, I loved and liked everyone there... but in the real world people do have best/close friends. I believe I really craved a good close friend in high school. I can't count the number of times I got pulled into an office to be told not to hang out so much with one person or another. Those brief moments of escape...jumping on the back of moving vans with J and A, chatting during housework in the lab with C... those moments where I felt I could be a friend were moments I sought out and looked forward to. I guess not having a close friend just enforced the feeling of being alone which many other people have also described. Still a bit bitter about it when I look back at life there, but I also know a lot of the people I met are true friends even if we never really got to know each other or share our souls.

Elle's Story

Let me start by saying that my personality is one that internalizes everything and when I THINK of the memories from ICA (Immaculate Conception Academy) I immediately recall all the emotions I was feeling at the time. Negative experiences tend to be more dominant, yet I would describe my 3 years at Immaculate Conception Academy as Heaven and Hell - there was nothing in between, I alternated between incredibly happy and incredibly miserable.

First I would like to say that I loved the exposure to an international setting. Formation-wise I learned a lot about character and human values. I think my ability to see the good in everyone I meet stems from the knowledge I have of personalities and living in close quarters with different types of people and cultures. 
Second, as we would all agree, the education, or at least the teachers themselves, were phenomenal! In my opinion, I think our teachers were an example of a different femininity: intellectual, free, strong personalities, wives and mothers and strong Christians. Quite healthy to be around!
Third, my biggest challenge in coping with RC/LC was that my gut was right all along and I allowed myself to be duped. I never liked Fr Maciel, never understood his letters, why he was glorified, why we meditated on his heart and mind, but regardless of my misgivings, I hopped on that bandwagon. I questioned norms and practices but I believed when I was told it was God’s Will. Which now takes me to my major beef and this is where personality comes into play. How dare anyone take underage, impressionable girls out of house and home and impose ARBITRARY, thoughtless practices and tell them it is God’s Will? Mixing eternal salvation and dish washing? I truly felt that God’s love for me and my self worth were in exact congruency with the responsibilities I had been given. Clearly, not the right environment for anyone that tends toward scrupulousness. I never acted out, I rarely disobeyed, my motivation was completely on guilt. If Christ died on the cross for me, shouldn’t I suffer as well?

Here is a little more detail of my story…I was a Precandidate from 2000-2003, As a spiritually sensitive individual, I ate up everything that was told to me, every standard, every norm etc. I “drank the kool-aid” so to speak or rather chugged it. From the young age of 15, I was always told that I would be a great member to the third degree (consecrated) and I was made class leader, team leader, sent on retreats etc. I'm sure the responsibility was given to me because it was easy to see I was putty. I would do whatever was asked of me, and if I couldn't do it, I felt like a failure and internalized everything. My senior year after a class trip to Mexico, I realized that I needed to make my own decisions and I would not get consecrated because it was someone else's wish for me. In Spiritual Guidance I said, "I think God wants me to go home." I was told to not make a decision so soon, continue to pray etc. I was so SOO nervous about this because I thought that if I went home without "approval" that it was disobedience, I would be damned to hell, turn away from my vocation, Rich Young Man, all that jazz. Another important thing to note was that my body could not function on its own, I was seeing a GI specialist to figure out why I had such violent heartburn, after the endoscopy I was diagnosed with GERDS and I was given the best medication available, and the doctor said most of his patients feel 90% better in three weeks. I was following every recommendation on the pamphlet, I was sleeping on bricks in the sense that my bed was elevated to a 30 degree angle, I ate snacks during the day and not meals to help with my digestion, I eliminated coffee, gum, ham and chocolate (yes chocolate!?!?!?!?). Meanwhile back to PC life, more Spiritual Guidance, more prayer, more me worrying about my life and God's plan and entertaining the possibility that maybe misery is what God wants for me. Days before graduation, I finally got the OK I was looking for in Spiritual Guidance, sorta..."If you think God wants you to go home I cannot stop you, but I see nothing impeding you from the consecrated life...and if you go home and realize it is not for you, you can come back to the candidacy" If I could hit the rewind button 3 times in my life, I would use it then and have so many colorful things to say. "You see nothing impeding me? How about that fact that I can't eat a meal without stomach bile being launched into my throat? How about I cry every time I'm corrected because I feel like a disappointment to God? Maybe the idea that I have no self esteem would be an impediment? Later I told one of the other consecrated of my plans and she was joyful and hugged me.  It was such a relief - I felt more comfortable with my decision and less like I had turned my back on God. Side note, this same woman would always be there to give me the boost that I needed. One time she very descriptively had me picture my worries and one by one knock them down with my bazooka or something very Rambo-esque. It was so refreshing to be around her humor and to know that she understood that I DID try hard.  What I needed was help to be an 18 year old girl, to step outside the introspection and to laugh at myself versus encouraging me to nitpick at my every behavior.

Finally going home, I thought was going to be an “apostle” and evangelize people, while working to afford college and try to live with my parents and family again. A topic for another day, but let’s just say I again felt like a failure and in some ways lived up to this expectation.  In my parents’ eyes I left at 15 and came how 3 years later still 15. We weren’t a good combination. By the way stomach ailments were gone within 2 weeks, and the doctor said it was "lifestyle" induced. I felt very lost not being able to see God’s plan for me in black and white, literally in black and white…at ICA our schedule for the day was printed and posted and we were told it was God’s will. I didn’t know how to deal with boys, dating, coworkers, college, drinking, drugs, or conflicts with friends. What was I good at? What were my strengths? (Don’t worry I had my weaknesses down, I could recite them in LITANY format) How do I balance a checkbook? How do I know what I am doing is right if I am not asking permission? Friends that understood my situation lived 3,000 miles away and the phone calls helped me get through. I was proud of myself for trying to make it on my own, to rid myself of the structure and rigidity of the Precandidacy but the emotional and spiritual marks still existed (exist?) below the surface.

Everyone knows that high school is the coming of age era filled with the joys and anguish of self discovery. The path of our past is made of stones that cannot be moved or altered (although by God I wish Doc Brown and his flux capacitor would take me back) all we control are the present and future and there with limitations. I could have been pregnant at 16, done drugs in high school, run away from home etc but I don’t know that. Instead I went to a small, all girls high school that I can’t describe to anyone unless they went there and I can’t think about without strong waves of mixed emotions. Many changes have been made to accommodate a healthy growing atmosphere for young girls but I don’t trust a well once poisoned. My way to self-actualization has been to leave aside the scruples, the ideologies and the religious agenda. I have been too disillusioned by Catholic leaders, leaders in Regnum Christi, friends and family members to give a sh*t anymore. Like all humanity, I believe that my purpose is to love and be loved…and I will have to do that in my way and in my time. I have to believe that God knows his sheep, that he knows me and wants the best for me even if isn’t very “close” to Him presently. I won’t be guilted into His arms.

Thank you to all that have taken the time to read my thoughts that I have never vocalized or said outside of a small circle. Maybe in some way it has helped you to identify in your life journey, I wish you the best and safe travels!