The Bright Side of Leaving a Cult

“I wasn’t in a cult,” I insisted.

Fuschias spilled from the edges of the veranda, and the candle flickered across the table linen as the sky turned purple around us.

So, when I had the opportunity to walk away from the marriage, it was like stepping out of a time capsule.

I often find myself wandering the aisles of pop culture like an Alzheimer’s patient in a big box store. My twelve year-old had to tell me what a Kardashian was (FYI: not a fancy sweater). And I have become addicted to TV — and I don’t even have cable (The miracle of streaming! Who knew?)

Discovering the Green Tara inside.

Life in the cult was miserable, yet easy, with no choices to make.

American expat in Germany, formerly conservative homeschool mom now navigating widowhood; runner, writer, Crossfitter, trying to figure **it out

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