This is one of a thirty part exposé on the Children of the Legion. This group of women, then girls, in the Regnum Christi, share their stories of abuse, neglect and the aftermath of being children in the Regnum Christi. For a complete list of stories to date, view Children of the Legion.
I was there my freshman year and then start of my sophomore year. I know it wasn’t all horrible, but there are many things that left a very bitter taste in my mouth, and I know that overshadows all the fun times that I had on outings, seeing the Christmas room, etc. For whatever it’s worth, I just can’t bring myself to practice religion anymore. I truly believe it’s the result of having everything dictated as “God’s will”. My life is much more peaceful now without worrying about any of that.
My biggest regret from being a PC is how we weren’t allowed “special” friendships. I know I was there with amazing girls, and it kills me that I didn’t make lasting friendships. How is it even possible to put so many girls into the same dormitory, eating together, studying together, praying together, and at the same time know almost nothing about them? We should all have gotten into mischief, stayed up late playing ridiculous teenage truth or dare games, and generally been super close to each other. It’s been 13 years since then, and I still struggle to make lasting friendships. I have to force “girl time” because it just seems strange to me – thankfully I have a handful of amazing friends, but I feel like it was easy to make friends prior to the PC, and it’s something I have to work at now. Somehow that part of me got lost.
Many parts of me got lost, really. I feel like the spiritual direction/confession process was really just another name for stripping away my personality and making me an obedient little PC. I was continuously told I was proud, that I had faults, etc. That really wore on me as a freshman, and I ended up with ridiculously low self esteem. Instead of a lecture, most often I really could have just used a hug. I don’t think that anyone was really looking out for me. I had some knee troubles that first year, and was on crutches for what seemed like forever (anyone remember how fast I could swing myself down the glass corridor on those things though? Haha). My doctor wanted me to rehab it by doing some swimming and exercises to strengthen it, but my formators denied my family’s request because it would have taken me too far outside of the big-S schedule. While I was hobbling around on crutches, I was criticized for not completing my housework completely – I had the dorm bathrooms at that time. I got a lecture about how I should be able to figure out how to empty the personal hygiene trash bins in each stall. To this day, I’m still unsure how they expected me to pick those suckers up and carry them to the main trash can while on crutches. Same thing for my asthma – I was told to “offer it up” whenever I’d encounter triggers and start wheezing, rather than staying healthy and not sweeping up dust, etc.
This story is a testimony from the 49 Weeks Blog. You can see this and more stories by visiting 49 Weeks.