Sara’s Story

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.

It’s been over 10 years since I left RI and I’m still trying to process and get over a lot of the anger and bitterness that I feel towards RC. When I started 9th grade, I was really excited about my new “vocation”. A month or two into 9th grade I started to notice a difference in how certain girls were treated (looking back, it was the “leader girls” being groomed for positions). I felt like I could never be one of those sparkling popular girls so I retreated into myself.

10th grade came around and I decided (in typical teenage fashion) that since I couldn’t ever be one of the popular girls, I could get attention by being a rebel. So I skipped classes, hid from the consecrated (closets, suitcase room, showers… I got creative lol) and read a million books. I was trying to get them to send me home because I didn’t want the responsibility of choosing to “abandon my vocation.” For some reason they wouldn’t send me home. I finally left at the end of 10th grade, only to get home and have a fit of conscience, and realize that I “needed” to be in the PC. So after begging and pleading I returned to the PC for the end of my 11th grade, only to leave again.

I think one of the biggest issues that I have with everything is the methodology. For a while there, I stopped seeing my friends as my friends, but only as prospective PC’s (face to faces). It reduces the value of every human being to “leader” vs “non leader” and how they can be used “for the good of the Kingdom”. It makes me sick.

I think a small part of me is still trying to get over the brainwashing. I still have dreams about the PC and it’s always filled with the exciting “you’re so special” crap.  A tiny part of me wanted to go to the Reunion, to get sucked back into the shiny plastic world of the Movement. It took me years to realize there was anything wrong with the Movement, and even longer to even talk about it.

49 Weeks
This story is a testimony from the 49 Weeks Blog. You can see this and more stories by visiting 49 Weeks.


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