What My Church Never Knew

All my life I wanted to do so many things. Even at the age of six I had already planned out my whole future. I wanted to be an astronaut and a zookeeper. An artist and an adventurer. I wanted to travel the world and see things I never even knew existed. And by the time I was 12 I had planned on being a psychologist and a photographer. I wanted to photograph super models and fly to New York for fashion week. I wanted to be in a rock band and play in front of hundreds of people. I wanted to go to the drive-in and watch old scary movies late at night. I wanted to be free and adventurous and do whatever I wanted to do. I wanted to dye my hair orange and get a tattoo on my wrist. I wanted to cuss whenever and wherever I wanted and I wanted to go to parties and get smashed. I wanted to get dirty for once and pick scabs off my knees. I wanted to wear clothes that showed off my legs and I wanted to let my hair loose and rigidly. I wanted to eat whatever I wanted without getting punished and I wanted to date boys.

There were so many things I wanted to do and so little time to do it. The list went on and on of dreams and ambitions I wanted to go and do. But some part of me knew I wouldn’t be able to do any of it. I wondered if I was going to ever get out of Kentmorth and see the world and everything in between.

They didn’t allow any of the things I wanted to do. I wasn’t allowed to leave, to change, and to say the things I wanted to say. They were in control of everything I did and I couldn’t do a thing about it.

There was only a matter of time before I would crack. Before I would finally have had enough of it and be forced to rebel. It was only a matter of time and as the days went by, it became clearer. I was breaking.