Ever since leaving, and also during the hard weeks before I made that step, I have been told over and over and over to honor my parents as scripture commanded me to. What I did wasn’t considered honoring my parents. It was a very tough time for me as I used to be one of the loudest girls judging others for rebellion, for not honoring their parents. Now I was in their place. What was I supposed to do? Supposed to think?
If it wasn’t for friends outside the movement, I’d have never been able to make that step. To honor your parents is something that you grow up with, something they were eager to beat into you, be it by spiritual, emotional or physical abuse. Not honoring your parents could be something as small as not immediately jumping up and coming when they call your name. It meant you’d be beaten.
Can you imagine the struggle of somebody who believes it’s dishonoring your parents to not immediately come when called now trying to leave the house and their authority? I don’t want to shower myself here, but I’m going to say that this is something not everybody managed to get through, and I my highest respect goes out to all the girls and women, and obviously boys and men too, who have done it.
You have pretty much no chance to do it without the help of outsiders. This can be as little as an online blog, but obviously live friends to stand behind you literally are the best that can happen to you and I’m thankful I had one, because blogs only wouldn’t have done the job for me.
My dear friend who helped me get out never grew tired of repeating the same thing over and over, making sure I didn’t get totally lost. She kept telling me that honoring my parents didn’t equal blindly obeying every wish and word they expressed. I was my own person, I was allowed to think for myself. I was allowed to have a different opinion. That concept was so hard to grasp.
I don’t mean that you can openly insult your parents or any person for that matter. But calmly and friendly disagreement is something normal, not something that dishonors anybody.
I love my family, yes we had our fights and mistakes, I did feel abused at times, but they are still my family, and I love them. If it was only possible to stay with them, to not break off contact and to work on it together, I would’ve done it. I still would if the actual chance came up. But that’s not how it is or how it will ever be.
I can’t change the way my parents are and they can’t change the way I am. We won’t find common ground and I learned to accept that. It is still hard, it hurts, but this is how it had to be. I wish my parents could see that I still love them and respect them, but they can’t. All they can see is my disagreement with them, my rebellion. I pray that this happens for a reason and that everything will turn out well, even though I know it possibly won’t.