I have been contemplating whether it would be a good idea for me to write. I guess I have some things to say, so why not say them?
Let’s say my name is Lisa. That isn’t my real name obviously, as I try to stay anonymous as to not bring any problems to my family, but I bet it comes in handy to have a name for myself that I can use on here.
I grew up in a fundamentalist family. I have 11 siblings with ages ranging from 2 to 21. I’m the oldest, being 23. My parents are good people, but they are blinded by fears and lies. I will write about this more and in detail when the time is right, and before that I don’t want to write anything that would make the situation look like something what it’s not.
I’m an avid reader and writer. I love language in all its forms. I love art. I’m not good at painting or taking photos, but I enjoy seeing good ones! I love cats and horses, but do not like dogs one bit.
My family considers me a lost sheep. I guess I’m thinking the same thing, but in a different way. I have so many things to explain. My fingers can’t keep up with my thoughts.
I decided to write on here because I want contact with people in the same situation, men and women, girls and boys, wifes, husbands, singles, old and young alike. I know there are many like me out there. Since the day I was able to read critical blogs I realized that I’m not alone. But I never felt like I was a part of this group, a group of survivors of patriachical terror. They were big people to me, people who might not feel like my life has been as hard as theirs, or who might say that I’m not a part of their group. My friend convinced me that I am and that people out there who have lived the same actually cared. And not only them but also people who still are in that situation might care, might need my words to see clearer. That’s why I’m here.