The Story

Welcome to my blog!

My archives can be confusing, because so much has changed in the six-and-a-half years since its inception. So here’s a brief explanation, and a guide to point you to stuff you might be interested in reading about.

Then – The Dream House

In 2012, I was a 19-year-old who loved to run barefoot in fields, wearing long old-fashioned dresses and my hair in braids to match, had just started attending college locally while living at home with my parents as the oldest sister and surrogate mother of thirteen children. My two older sisters had moved out, so there were sixteen of us in all, but I wasn’t talking to my older sisters at the time. They had “chosen lifestyles of sin” and “didn’t love Jesus anymore,” and we still prayed for them every night and that was that, and nobody could say a word about it.

I was expected to maintain good grades at school, while fighting for study time around three jobs: homeschooling, feeding, bathing, and supervising the children; being my mother’s maid who brought her perfectly sweetened coffee in the morning and made sure no portion of her breakfast in bed was too cold, and giving her foot rubs and back massages when she was tired or in pain from all the pregnancy; and being my father’s administrative assistant for the family business. I would also pick up writing jobs for the school newspaper and an SEO site building company, as well as nannying, babysitting, and other odd jobs while living in their home.

My dad wrote books (well, other people wrote them, and he formatted and put price tags on them) for a very specific niche. He was known for not only overpricing and under-researching his merchandise, but he once sued a kid for sharing his Google-front-page-lifted book on an open forum. That niche was homeschool high school speech and debate students. Primarily a demographic made up of white, middle class, conservative, young-earth-creationist, NRA-card-carrying teenage nerds who loved to research current events and politics and philosophy in our spare time, because we were devoted Christian virgins who thought masturbation and porn were evil, and we were fucking BORED. Whether you were an only child with moderate Christian parents or you had a fuck ton of siblings like I did, your only connection to the outside world and all your friends were the kids you saw at church, and competitors at speech and debate tournaments.

My siblings and I were expected to be excellent speakers and persuaders, outwardly performing at logical analysis, while our own cognitive perceptions were gaslit into believing we were the best and greatest family in the whole world (because what else would a narcissist have his wife and children believe?). Our education was so stunted that silencing our questions in the name of “healthy debate” around the kitchen table (where the only winner was dad) was easy enough. Our only exposure was to people who believed as we did, and we attended over a dozen churches. Every one of us kids was lost in a crowd of siblings in desperate need of attention from our parents who knew nothing about the love they preached.

We lived comfortably enough, if you can imagine feeding sixteen kids on one income, middle class as it may have been. But long before we were featured on The Learning Channel’s Kids by the Dozen, my dad was a controversial character. He loves the camera, and often creates a self-fulfilling bubble of fame, in which he convinces people with a winning grin that he has lived a fascinating life, and please don’t ask about our older daughters, we’re praying for them in their wayward way, and we’ve changed since those days. And my parents have made a show of reform outside their “dream house” for years – in 2000, they’d moved from following the Pearls to following the Dobsons. In 2007, it was a show of reconciliation, as staged by TLC for entertainment value. In 2015, in response to my public accusations about their abuse, they put most of my siblings in school. They’d paraded me around to promote their brand all my life, and then robbed me of watching the children I’d mothered grow up, so I’m exploiting their name and 15-minute fame for everything it’s worth. my parents put most of my siblings in school. Each of these so-called “developments” are a carefully constructed story that I believed for many years, but as many concerned viewers have since recognized that reality TV is a sick freak show for narcissistic and abusive parents to get their moment, I started to see through the cracks.

Now (Or also then, retrospectively after 2018)

If you couldn’t tell from how I described the above paragraph – a lot has changed. I’m still young, making my way through my mid-twenties, but I know a lot more about my very queer, pan, feminist, anti-capitalist, anarchist, science-loving, atheist, and a little witchy identity. I dropped out of college because my parents didn’t want to keep filing for grants (they never had to pay for it), and I still love going barefoot and wearing dresses, but these days I’m more likely to have a low-cut forest green dress and purple hair. I care a lot about raising awareness about people like me. I was raised to be a Trump-supporting type. I understand the psychological barriers that keep my siblings locked into an ongoing relationship with my parents. If they reject the family, they’ll end up like me: an impoverished, food-stamps-fed system-hater who likes to spend hours researching economic disparity, off-grid living that’s accessible to the poor, injustice around the world, and improving education for all, especially in understanding science, our environment, the roots of exploitation and colonization, the spectra of sexuality and gender, and a host of other important topics.

I’ve been accused of slander for accusing my parents of abuse. The flavor of my abuse didn’t involve the hostility of divorced parents, but my parents are still married and in agreement on all things, as they believe a Godly couple should be. I wasn’t subject to merciless beatings from drunken rages, nor were expletives hurled at me. Emotional and spiritual abuse, the kinds that leads to the kind of Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (C-PTSD), depression, anxiety, and chronic pain I have developed, is a more subtle abuse. It is more difficult to talk about, because the United States is not a child-respecting country, and because the scars were usually not left on the skin. Because my dad and I are both writers, I’ve also been accused of trying to “steal his spotlight” for myself, but those are the people who listen to what he says – nothing gets under the skin of an abusive narcissist like telling the truth to the Internet. As for me, I’m going to shout from the rooftops that children matter, and borders are stupid, and abuse happens for the same reasons fringe cults happen, and what I’ve learned over the years.

I’m not running from my past, trying to stay as far away from that ideology as possible. I’ve simply found that the world is much, much bigger than I ever thought. I’m okay with being a tiny speck in vast, meaningless, empty space instead of believing there’s a God out there who cares whether I touch my clit or not.

So, Here’s What I Write About

Growing Up Jeub – This topic is the blogged abuse I mentioned above. It all started with a post called “Melting Memory Masks.

Justice and Advocacy – Several subjects fall under this category. Here are some of them:

  • Wealth disparity, exploitation, and colonization for power and profits
  • Child rights and child advocacy
  • Education methods and education reform, including reproductive health education
  • Health care access and freedom from exploitation
  • Under-reported violence backed by world powers

Psychology and Mental Illness – As I have lived with mental illness for many years, and the misinformation of the masses led to me growing up in a cult-like environment, psychology is a fascinating subject for me. I love understanding how the human brain copes with, and can learn to process in a way that does not reject its own perceptual awareness. That said, I am not an expert, though I do read a lot on the subject and link to sources that are more qualified than I to make statements about psychology, and research a lot more than half of the people on Psychology Today.

Religion and Spirituality

I was a Christian for twenty years – from age 3 to 23. In that time I studied a lot of theology, and the Bible, and defended my faith, well, religiously. I began reading the Rg Veda and Zenda Vesta and Quran, and realized my holy book wasn’t all that different from a lot of other holy books I’d been taught to believe were drastically inferior to it. Deconstructing my faith meant reconstructing my identity, and for the first time in my life, I was finally whole, despite the fact that I’d given up on being a slave to Christ. I’m very well-read on this subject, and can spar for hours when the mood strikes, but I write far less about this subject than I did six years ago. What can I say? Science is so much cooler than religion!

Science and Philosophy

Which brings me to the next topic, and here I’d like to make a distinction: I am not an expert on science, but I have experienced the wonder of science. I am an expert on religion, as I have researched, competed, and written professionally on the subject. I am experienced in having been religious. This distinction is one I am far more aware of than I was when I began blogging, musing with confusion and dissonance over the lifestyle and belief system I had been taught was right. Today I write about science and philosophy, especially political philosophy, in terms of what ultimately convinced me that I was wrong about the universe. That I feel I can do justice in explaining. But if you want someone to break down the science behind it, please go read the work of an expert, there are lots of good ones.