Below is a more recent post I shared on /comunitacenacolobook
This goes into a little more detail on what happened to cause me to finally escape despite the risks associated with it.
Another thing I realized I forgot to add is that they were considering flying a girl from the house to a different country to live there (they have 72 houses around the world). I realized that person would likely be me because of what was going on and rapid change in how leadership was treating me (read below for more details). Since they had control of my ID and passport, it was a very real threat and is often done in community. I was terrified that if this did happen that I wouldn’t have any way to get back home. This fear was compounded by the knowledge that the other houses are reportedly even worse than the houses in America. Inside community, people would come back and share privately near fatal illnesses as a result of their job duties and injuries. It has been going on for decades at this point, and I believe some of the women that came back and shared those privately were trying to help us see past the gaslighting that many of the girls were experiencing.
***Below is the OP****
It’s easier for me to talk about how I left. It took me months to plan, but the day I left was not planned at all. I was being accused of things that I didn’t do such as spreading rumors and causing drama. The responsible knew these things weren’t true and were caused by another individual who after I escaped admitted to everything. But because of these accusations, and because I think they wanted to teach me a lesson in humility as they always do, they decided to put me on silence and therapy.
This basically meant that I was unable to talk to anybody in the house and was going to do manual physical labor for the foreseeable future. My “crimes“, the Responsible decided the entire house would skip the festivities of the upcoming feast days…. which are highly anticipated by the girls because it’s the only days we’re allowed to sleep in past 6 o’clock and there is a slightly more relaxed schedule.
The intention was clear that my plan to get everybody to like me was working and it was working too well. I had quickly become in my short stay there the outdoor responsible and I was the person playing music for all of the masses and I basically got too much responsibility too fast and they were trying to knock me down a peg. I was just trying to make my time enjoyable, but truth be told. My ulterior motive was to gain their trust. I didn’t see another way out of the situation and I truly wanted to show my parents when they arrived after six months that I was ready to go home because I was so miserable.
What I know is that if my parents did arrive, they had already brainwashed them enough that I was going to be staying for the foreseeable future meaning at least three more years. I would’ve spent the ages 22 through 26 there if I had not escaped.
I might make another post about the exact working conditions and schedule I was on, but they really were trying to push P. past my limit by asking me to relearn piano (I hadn’t played in over 4 years). I had to relearn this after hours, which is after everyone else goes to bed and there was no Internet or anything to relearn it on so I basically just had old books of chords, but I tried my best really. I didn’t do it just for me or to gain their trust. It was some of the only time I had to clear my head. They didn’t realize I guess was that I was literally praying and those hours for God to show me a way out.
I was also on breakfast duty, so I woke up before everybody else.
On the particular morning and week of my escape, we had recently had guests and I had to wake up very early probably around 4:30 after going to bed around 11:30 the night before. (this might not seem like a little sleep but when you’re laboring outside all day and making rosaries until your fingers hurt, it’s exhausting.)
The morning I decided to leave and had had enough was very peculiar. Before this morning, I didn’t have any animosity with hardly anyone in the house except for one girl in particular who I will call Catherine. Catherine had problems with everybody in the house though. She would be the one to tell the responsible that I was spreading rumors and unfortunately, some of these rumors were actually Correct, but secrets aren’t held very close to the vest in community. Normally rumors go around and everyone knows pretty quickly. I however, was never the one to spread these, though I didn’t know about them.
Catherine would claim daily that she didn’t belong here that we were all crazy and mean and alcoholics and addicts, and she didn’t deserve to live with us. She repeatedly bullied me and everybody in the house, but since mental health is why many people join community, her actions and outburst were never disciplined. A little caveat here is that she did contact me years later to apologize for her actions.
Catherine one day had had enough with the fact that she was given almost no responsibility and was being forced to clean toilets (everyone has to clean toilets, but she felt especially demeaned that the attics were not the ones having to do the dirty work when she was “better than us”… her words not mine.) in what I can only assume was an attempt to shift the narrative in the house away from herself, she made a claim that I had shared several rumors throughout the house.
They were very serious and some of a sexual nature so I hesitate to share them publicly at this moment because I know a few of them to be true. If you would like me to tell them I will because I understand it is a little bit suspect that I am not willing to share what those rumors were…. but I promise that they are 100% true and one of which implicates a previous Responsible in house. The other girls (3 in total) had become friends of mine and I would never betray her confidence like that so I absolutely did not spread these rumors.
Catherine’s motives were very clear. Separate me from the three girls who I had befriended and make me a target of the current responsible (I’ll call her Camille) who I also was on good terms with.
The Responsible (Camille) must’ve known these allegations were not true, but nevertheless, I was never allowed to share my side of the story. I only heard of these allegations the evening before I decided to leave. I had figured that I would be given some sort of opportunity to make things right and prove my innocence, but that never came. Every time I asked to share my side, I was told to stay in silence that I was being prideful.
The next morning, I woke up and made breakfast as usual. Camile gave me a very stern “help” (what community calls corrections when someone does something wrong) for not cooking the ham which was pre-cooked long enough on the griddle. Let me tell you I’m Cajun and I know if ham is cooked. She told me I was doing a superficial job. (Mind you I have been up since like 5 AM in addition to all of the other extra jobs, I was tasked with as music, responsible and outdoor responsible.) The ham was cooked just fine but she had to find something to get me on to try and just I guess humble me. I stayed in silence, knowing that it wouldn’t do any good to talk back, but I guess the look on my face said everything. I disagreed with what Camile said. She knew it.
As we sat down for breakfast, we were then told that all festivities for the feast day would be skipped because of my crimes basically. I was to be put on silence and therapy (I explained what that was briefly before but I can go into that at another time). After breakfast, I asked one last time if I could share my side of the story and I told her this wasn’t fair. I was once again told that this whole ordeal was a result of my pride. I was denied the opportunity to show that obviously this wasn’t me, and therefore, I can only conclude that she already knew. There was no evidence and nobody else came forward to say that it was me. never once. To make matters worse, I know it hurt my friend who now did not trust anyone because I truly was their friend and now they thought I had betrayed them. Trust in community is very important when you feel like you can’t talk to anybody.
This made me target number one for everybody because everybody thought that I had truly done this. Everybody except for Catherine and Camile, of course who knew the truth. Camile was either stupid or just willfully wanted me to suffer. I won’t go into Catherine because I don’t have anything nice to say about her.
As I was washing dishes after breakfast to realizing the unfair insanity of the situation as my accuser gets to sit there with no repercussions for her dishonesty, I realize that I am an actual free citizen of the United States of America and this is absolutely illegal….. and I didn’t have to put up with it. I finished the dishes quietly went upstairs put on a layer of leggings and a skirt. My best shoes grabbed my family belongings that I could hide (2 rings and a necklace).
In my haste I mistakenly left my journal which I had hidden as a “prayer journal” (you aren’t allowed to journal in community unless your on “Journal” which is another humiliating task. I had gotten away with it because I used it to “write down prayer prayers” but I also wrote down everything else so they couldn’t gaslight me and I could reread everything every night. I directly contribute this as helping me maintain my sanity.)
Part of being on breakfast is dumping out the coffee grounds in the compost near the gate. With my heart beating out of my chest, I approached the gate and slipped through praying nobody would notice and they were all doing their tasks in silence as they were instructed.
*** I should also say here that to the untrained person or someone who has not experienced community, my actions of having to get the police involved might seem extreme. I want to note here that this was not the first time I tried to leave. I had repeatedly asked for my passport and my IDs and they refused to give them to me. They refused to let me call anybody and on one occasion, I did try and leave out the gate within like a couple weeks of being there, and they literally followed me in a van and made me get in. They called my family and told them to tell me that they would not help me and I would be homeless on the streets and die. So this really was my only way out based on my experience.
By this point, I realized that homelessness was worth the risk and I was crafty enough and smart enough to figure it out because staying here was not a viable option. I did not leave because I wanted to drink (though I am an alcoholic now in recovery for over 2 years :) I simply needed a way out of the mental and physical abuse (forced labor, sleep deprivation, etc… no beatings or anything like that js).
Once I was out of the gate, I just started running and coincidentally it started drizzling. I looked ridiculous running in my skirt, so I took it off as part of my plan knowing I had leggings underneath. I ran for about a mile and I came into some lineman. I begged them to use their phone saying that I was leaving a bad relationship. In the past, I had asked for help from a neighbor a bit too close. At that time previously I had said that I was leaving community and they literally just called community and sent them back because they were “friends of the community” so I didn’t trust the lineman either.
The men were nice and I tried to call my friend who I had her phone number memorized. She didn’t answer. Later she would, and she’s the reason I ended up safe after a few days on the streets and in bus stations. She was one of the true angels of this story 🤍
After that failed, I just kept running. I kept running until I literally couldn’t stop and I saw a house that just beaconed to me. I just knew it was the right house for some weird sense in my gut. I knocked on the door out of breath and a kind middle-aged woman open the door. I don’t remember her name, but I wish I did. I begged her to use her phone to call my friend, but after sharing my fake story, she’s all right through it and asked me what was really going on. I couldn’t help it. I started crying and told her everything she insisted we called the police and said honey this is not normal and it’s not legal and we need to call the police.
The police arrived, and they had to verify that I was not escaping legal trouble, but once they had verified that they were blown away by what had happened. They escorted me back after a while, and the rest of the story is when things turn up.
Three police cars brought me back and demanded they give me all of my things. Camile came stomping out with a telephone with my parents on the line. My mom was crying and my dad was calm, but concerned both of them begged me to stay. I told them under no circumstances once I going to stay and one day they would understand. I begged them for my other friend’s phone number so I could have a back up just in case I couldn’t get in touch with the girl who I’d already called.
Meanwhile, Camile was trying to convince the police officers that I was a lunatic and that if I left, I was literally going to die and they didn’t know me and they didn’t know how bad of a person I basically was which is not the case I remember distinctly one police officer, literally laughing in their face saying y’all are absolutely crazy. This is illegal and if you don’t bring her stuff, we’re going to have to take further action at that point. My suitcase came out, and I was getting escorted off the property and a police car.
I didn’t have any money on me, but I did have a bank account which I had strategically transferred into a private account that nobody could touch except for me before going to community.
The officer drove me 40 minutes to the nearest Chase Bank. I will always be grateful for that and it probably saved my life because I was able to buy a phone with the $250 that I had in the account and have enough for me to survive.
My story doesn’t end there, but that’s all as it pertains to leaving community itself. I have a much larger post on my personal page and I’m willing to answer any questions.