It was mainly family. I knew that to doubt would mean loss of family. But when even family turned against me, I really had no excuses anymore. I stayed because I didn't know any different...I kept hoping that the way I was raised was not wrong. I wanted to believe. I knew the elders and the GB were wrong. I fought against it. But everyone I loved was still part of it.
The day I left for good was memorial. I chose not to attend, but made the mistake of allowing my children to go with their (my/extended) family. I paid dearly for that decision. I remember how they came to my home the day after, to attack me and try and force me back. I had done the most horrible thing...
I know now that I did the most wonderful thing by finally having the courage to stay away from memorial. I no longer believed. They had f**d me over so badly, there was no reason why I was still around. Except for family.
I don't want to talk about the rest, its still way too painful. But I lost my family that day. I've made a few inroads over the last while, but it will never be the same. I'll never again have a mother, a sister, an aunt, a brother. I may know my mother because she is sick now, I try to build a friendship. But I lost what really mattered when they came to my house the day after memorial and punished me for not attending.
Sorry...I've gotten off topic here. I haven't told my story on this board, and LL's question just kinda got me going...