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recovering fundamentalist

The Day I Learned to Stop Singing

I was in the middle seat of a 1980s minivan with rusty hubcaps along with six other teen girls and two youth leaders. We were headed to an all-girls Christian camp in the coastal redwoods of California. It was 2000, and I was feeling very stylish with a soft pink handkerchief in my hair. The…
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The Day I Learned to Stop Singing

I was in the middle seat of a 1980s minivan with rusty hubcaps along with six other teen girls and two youth leaders. We were headed to an all-girls Christian camp in the coastal redwoods of California. It was 2000, and I was feeling very stylish with a soft pink handkerchief in my hair. The…
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The one thing to say to the spiritually wounded

I am a hurt, scared little girl. I am a brave, overcoming woman. I am both at the same time. I’ve been hurt by controlling church leaders, by judgmental Christians, by religious people who wanted me to look just like them. For years, I let the hurt eat away at me, slowly severing the cord that…
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