The girl I used to be died the day I cut my hair on my own for the first time in 2022 or 2023 (time is weird).
With the spare hair scissors I had taken, which I still use to this day. It was just before I was going to go to the temple to do baptisms for the dead with my yw group. I had stared at myself in the mirror, and I hated who I saw. And I had hated who I saw for a long time.
It was so relieving to cut my hair. For the first time I started to recognize who I saw. It wasn’t very good or very short, but I was new. I was myself.
She died so that I could take her place and live her dreams for her, even through the hard times.
Now I sport short hair that barely passes my ears in the front and goes down to the middle of my neck in the back, a very standard cut. And I like it that way.
I wish my family could see that I’m not her. She lives within me in a way, having lived a lot of my trauma and given me life. But she’s dead, and I’m alive.
And I wish they could love me as much as they love her.
For us she's not dead but sure as hell she was replaced
Whoo, developing a plural system to escape a cult because the original host is so indoctrinated she can't, yaaaaaaaaaay /sar
Genuinely that’s so valid, I’m a cult survivor too so I definitely understand how difficult it is to leave stuff like that. /lh
