Emotions of being in a high authoritarian church

 I was young and impressionable. I was longing for belonging and acceptance. I was insecure and hurt. I was without shape and form and truly just becoming something/someone.

I was thrust into a world of affirmation, social interactions, and what felt like love.

I was unsure and scared, but addicted to the risks I felt I was taking. 

I was addicted to the idea of having a mission and never being alone on that mission.

I thought I was in love with someone who did not love me. Rather was pushing. Pushing me to become a member of this group, so that he would not feel guilty for leading me on and looking as if he was interesting in someone outside of the group.

I should have known. It did take me 6 months to fully commit. But why didn't I turn away?

I was being led by people that seemed kind, genuinely interested in me, and happy.

And then I was in it.

I was in it, fully incorporated to the group. 

I was uncomfortable, but I thought I was supposed to be. 

The years all blur together because I was not taking actions for myself, but rather the group. It is like motherhood, where you are living in parallel to your child, doing what is best for them, but losing your identity in the meantime. Quickly. Not slowly, my identity was closely tied to this group. I was a member in the group, not an individual. I was easier to have the structure in many ways. Monday central teaching, Tuesday house meeting, Thursday home church, Friday cell group. Weekends for hanging out constantly. 

My family thought I had suddenly become an extrovert. I was surrounding by people and coming more and more out of my shell. I was staying up late and going, going, going.

I was good for me and yet bad. Good for that stage of my life in college, early 20s. But when I grew up... I was still in the same place. Still encouraged to stay up late and focus solely on winning people to the group. I should have known. And maybe I did, maybe that is why I am no longer associated with that church.