Life really hit me in November 2023. I had just left a relationship, was in the middle of the semester, and had heavy academic work piling up. If you haven’t been there, no amount of words can really make you understand it.
You just want everything to end. That was one of the few times I genuinely felt like taking my own life. I needed to fill the void that relationship left behind, but not with another person.
I needed me time. A moment to reflect. To learn and unlearn a few things. I think that’s when I started taking coding seriously (no joke). In moments like that, you’ll do anything to forget quickly and move on. That was the most vulnerable I’ve ever been.
I had a friend, I’ll call Kwame, who was part of a church group. He had invited me before to join their Bible study, but I never gave it much thought. But guess what? In that moment, I hit him up and asked to meet one-on-one. I guess I needed to know God more.
It went smoothly. I liked the study, and we met a few more times. I really appreciated the new perspective it gave me on the Bible and how we serve God. The church folks wanted me to join them, and I gave it some thought. Sharing the Word with others seemed like a way to grow, both in faith and in understanding people.
Little did I know, I was kind of joining a cult. Let me be clear: I’m not talking about anything demonic. I mean a group that feeds on your insecurities. One that guilt-trips you into silence, always armed with a spiritual explanation for any doubt you voice.
If you know me, you know I almost never open up. You really can’t “know-know” me. But in that moment, I felt like I belonged, and because of that, I let my guard down.
First off, this is a group that frowns on dating, so telling them I had just left a relationship felt like a safe thing to share. That was my mistake. Every meeting after that started to feel like a personal message aimed at me — a subtle warning not to go back. The message was clear: either the person I had dated also joined the church, or I had to hate them. Literally.
They see anyone outside their group as lost, as vagabonds. And since I was new, they assumed I wasn’t strong enough to resist “evil.” So they tried to keep me busy. Not just regularly, but daily. They met every single day. And they’d justify it with Scripture, like, “Well, the disciples met daily too.” You couldn’t even say no. If you gave an excuse, they always had a better one ready to cancel yours out. All in the name of keeping you close to God. Very silly.
During one of the studies, people started making snide comments about how evil the Catholic Church is. And it wasn’t hard to see where they were going with that.
I’m Catholic, by the way.
I started doing research on the group. Turns out, there’s a whole subreddit dedicated to them, with over 5,000 people sharing their experiences. Former members. Outsiders. “Vagabonds.” Some posts go all the way back to 2003. I told Kwame about it and guess what he called it? Persecution. Seriously?
Some of the stories shared included emotional manipulation, assault, and the worst kind of forceful control. It was serious. At home, I’ve always been known for standing up for myself, so I knew I wasn’t going to fall all the way in. I started to drift, and worse, I lost the sense of belonging. Back to square one.
In people’s stories, they had left good-paying jobs, families, and even wealth, all to fellowship and “share the Word” daily. The group thrived on finding people as vulnerable as I was then, pulling them into their trance-wagon, and using them to recruit more people like me. It was all about increasing the numbers. And yes, they got paid for the dirty work we did. It became obvious they had quotas to meet.
One day, I asked another member how they really felt, and that’s what broke the ice. I wasn’t alone. Others had been thinking of leaving too, but they didn’t know how.
Not me. I just stopped showing up. No goodbyes. No drama. I owed no one an explanation. Not even Kwame. By then, he was more theirs than mine, and I respected that. I pulled away quietly and blocked their contacts.
So why am I even ranting?
Well, another friend just told me they’re trapped in a similar situation, and they’re scared to leave.
Here’s the thing: it might not be a church group. It could be a study group, a club, a community, anything. But if it starts to feel wrong, if it starts eating away at who you are, own up and leave. You owe it to yourself to stand up.