Everyone feels out of place once in a while; sometimes we feel out of our depth, like we don’t belong among people we hold in high esteem, or simply unsure where we fit in a new employment situation. Perhaps we are a new girlfriend or boyfriend meeting a family; there are lots of situations where we might find ourselves just a bit adrift.

For those of us who were raised in cults (or other sorts of high demand, abusive, or narcissistic environments), finding our way as adults is a fraught endeavor. Where others seem at ease and comfortable, we struggle. Where others seem energized and enjoying conversation, we are guarded and measured and constantly gauging ourselves.

On the other hand, if we find ourselves in a tightly controlled environment with strict rules, like military basic training, a strict martial arts class or other situations that might stress out more “normal” people, we tend to thrive. Give us strict rules, dress codes, a well-understood hierarchy, we’re ready; this is our comfort zone. Ambiguity, on the other hand, leaves us unmoored, untethered, adrift.

If one were to read the literature regarding treatment of survivors of cult and religious trauma, a number of common themes would recur; other than ptsd and depression, many of us deal with dissociative disorders. We often find it difficult to be present, to experience our own lives fully as individuals. Some of us have had incredible difficulty even discerning who we were outside of the group, or outside of other relationships, never having had the freedom to form our own identities as children.

It’s little wonder then that as adults we struggle when trying to find our own place in what seems a tumultuous and confusing world. Too, it can be dangerous as survivors when we find groups that are too welcoming or too friendly; some of us will be overly suspicious and avoid an entirely benevolent group whist others might jump in only to be once again ensnared by someone with devious intent. It seems that survivors are often stuck in one of two modes of interaction; we can be too trusting, or too suspicious. Sometimes we can exist in a strange amalgam of both.

I suppose that my goal has been to find my own way out of this mire. I’ve often wondered what it is within me that is lacking, but the wonder has been window-dressing only. I know what has been lacking. The lack was the ability to trust in somebody who was trustworthy when I was young.

In a functional family, a child learns to trust her parents. She learns that if something is wrong, he parents will do what they can to fix it. In cults and other abusive relationships that trust bond is never created. Survivors don’t properly learn who to trust. We might have been taught to trust people who abused us, we might have had serious medical conditions but were told that we were malingering, or that it was all in our head. We were taught not to trust ourselves, not to trust what our own bodies were feeling, and not to trust our own intuition. We never had the opportunity to bond with a trustworthy individual in whom we could legitimately place our trust, and therefore we developed no legitimate mental image for trustworthiness. What is intuitive for many is theoretical for us. To use an analogy, if one grows up catching baseballs, it’s not overly difficult. But if you approach it from the viewpoint of computing arcs and proper coordinates to intercept the ball, a runner will be around the bases before the short- stop ever gets a ball to first base. If one grows up with a healthy understanding of trust and trustworthiness, this comes easy. But when this is learned later in life, it’s not so organic; there are extra steps.

So what to do?

The first trick is to rewrite the troubled instructions from childhood. We can let the little girl who was not able to trust know that there are trustworthy people in the world and we can help her to learn to trust the right people. We can let her explore the world and learn the difference between trustworthy people and those who are not. This might come about through friendships, with a therapist, or others who are genuinely trustworthy.

Some are now stating an obvious question and pointing to a possible hole in my plan; how are we to find a trustworthy person in the first place?  I was fortunate in finding friends who had no agenda for me. I suppose that it’s much easier said than done to suggest someone else find the same, but there are also cult survivor support groups and experienced therapists who will put your needs first.

Once that little girl is able to begin to develop an intuitive understanding of trustworthiness, things will begin to change. In my life I’ve noticed a shift in thinking when I met people; it used to be that I’d be intensely concerned about angering people – i’d be looking for clues regarding appropriate behavior or conversation topics. Being myself was something alien to me.

I recall one conversation where a dear friend introduced me to someone she knew and this man spent more than a few minutes talking to me, interested in what I was doing. I was terrified; not of this man, but of making my friend look bad because she might be associated with someone like me.  When I addressed my concern with this friend she was upset, but not for any reason I could have expected at the time. Where I saw myself as a nobody and the man that she introduced me to as a successful radio executive (or something of the sort), my friend saw two people that she cared for, neither of whom are nobodys.

My job has been to break the childhood programming of being a nobody, a little girl, damned and unworthy of protection, and understanding that that little girl wasn’t a nobody. That little girl was somebody worthy of love and protection, and so is the woman she became. And understanding that I am worthy of love and protection vines me permission to trust and to judge the trustworthiness of those who come into my life.

I can now act with agency. I can meet people and be myself because I can say what “I want” instead of what some church told me that I was supposed to want. I can be who I want to be. I can love the things and the people I choose to love. I can have real conversations about real aspirations rather than fabricated ones; about accomplishment that I’m truly proud of, about people I love and have loved.

First leaving a cult leaves one dazed and confused for a long time. That confusion will periodically return because we don’t live in the same world that we grew up in; the cult reality and actual reality aren’t the same thing at all. But got those of us who have dealt with the trauma, through therapy, support groups, exit counseling, after a few moments of reorientation, we can for once be truly ourselves.