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Hey, ready for a quick dive into some absolutely bonkers cult moments that folks actually lived through? Spoiler: it's as wild as it sounds. Here’s a bunch of stories from ex-members spilling the weirdest, wackiest things anyone pretended were normal.
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Imagine never being allowed to snip your hair. That was me. Finally shaved it all off in 2020 and wow, instant healing vibes!
One time, my mom was totally convinced there was a demon living in our garbage disposal. So she started praying it out loud. It was... something else.
Imagine getting a lecture from your pastor AND your parents when they find out you read a book that says spanking isn't great. They hit me with the 'fix that now or else' talk. So yeah, I left happily.
Billionaires at service casually passing the collection plate to poorer folks for money collecting up to get into heaven. That’s not the plot of a movie; it was real life.
In junior high, I rolled around on a university racquetball court, making up nonsense sounds because some minister’s wife said I just needed to ‘reach for the spirit.’ Felt more like gym class gone wild.
Yeah, celery was off the menu. Why? Because the leader said it's 'a smug and ambitious vegetable.' No joke.
Apparently, every time I had cramps, it was nature’s way of telling me I was responsible for kicking Adam and Eve out of paradise. Oh joy, biology plus cult guilt!
When the toilet backed up, the answer was NOT a plumber. Nope. We prayed over it like that’d do the trick. Spoiler alert: it didn't.
Picture this: men standing up loud and proud praying out loud for help to not be tempted by preteen girls. Awkward doesn’t begin to cover it.
The pastor slept with babysitters, got one pregnant, and paid for an abortion. But guess who got kicked out? The babysitter friend. Wild.
Women couldn’t hold power ‘cause God said men were the bosses, but you better cover up or men might lose control. Makes sense? Nope.
While most folks were drowning in bills, the pastor was out in Africa shelling out $12,000 chasing big game. Yikes.
When I didn’t speak in tongues, the church leader grabbed me by the throat and blew into my mouth so I’d ‘catch fire.’ Yeah, that happened. I begged my parents to bail.
Imagine getting married and knocked up before most kids even finish freshman year. That was me at 15. Childhood? What’s that?
At 14, I was told a demon was messing with my spine causing scoliosis. Real talk: I didn’t even have scoliosis.
Reading Harry Potter was apparently spirit-opening evil. Also, watching Scooby Doo would scare me with a ‘spirit of fear.’ Childhood crushed.
Ibuprofen during your period? Not allowed. Pain is your punishment and suffering your saint badge. Sure thing, Opus Dei.
When I was 12, every little dollar I got had to be tithes. It was like paying rent to the cult (spoiler: they never called it that).
They forced us to drink colloidal silver because magic cure-all! The result? Permanent brain damage and seizures for my cousin. Yikes.
Imagine standing on stage while someone reads your sins out loud like you’re an exhibit. Yeah, public confession was a thing.
When I was diagnosed with ADHD, the whole cult pitched in to pray it away. Then the head of the cult came to bless the house. Spoiler: none of it worked.
They called it flagellation, but it was just the pastor giving you a smack. Kinda like ‘tough love’ gone wrong.
I went through a ceremony where I was given a secret new name and dressed in odd outfits, including for my wedding. Adam and Eve symbolism? Sure, why not.
Growing up, tank tops were a no-no because I had to ‘save my shoulders’ for my husband. Wearing anything sleeveless supposedly made boys stumble. Who decided that?
Folks who served time for child abuse material offenses came back to the church and were welcomed like heroes. Talk about twisted forgiveness.
Spent tons of time glued to world news, waiting desperately for that ‘peace and security’ sign that signals the world's end. Spoiler: It never came.
Apparently, wearing your socks right-side-out during a full moon drains your memory thanks to sneaky moonbeams. So we had to flip them inside out. Science said what?
I was twelve when the bishop took me into a room all alone for an in-depth chat about my s*x life. Who thought this was okay?
Men weren’t allowed to see women - even family - with wet hair because apparently, it made them imagine shower scenes and... um, yeah.
Men always had to travel in pairs and could never be alone with women to prevent ‘temptation’ and also to avoid allegations. It sounds like babysitting but with more drama.
In this cult, God’s actually a dude living on a planet next to a star called Kolob, just chillin’ with a physical body. Unexpectedly cosmic!
After Armageddon, it was a free-for-all on claiming stuff. Folks laid ‘dibs’ on cars, homes, you name it. Apocalypse real estate wars!
Growing up cult-style means everything’s weird but you just accept it. Case in point: no Rugrats because of the name, but The Waterboy was okay thanks to faith vibes. Go figure.
At 11, during summer camp, I was told I was ‘chewed gum’ and then had months of stomach trouble. Camp vibes were rough, to say the least.
They swapped kids into ‘better fit’ families and arranged who they’d marry years ahead. Cult vs. family reunions - hard pass!
They cared so much about my underwear choices they’d actually check to make sure I was ‘saved.’ Talk about weird priorities.
At 15, had to confess to all my sins like kissing a boy, plus my edgy emo phase, to my parents and the elders. Result: kicked right out.
Heaven isn’t one-size-fits-all. You gotta know secret names and handshakes to get into the VIP section. Yeah, heaven has levels.
Speaking in tongues was the norm. Everyone’s born sinful too. Lots of physical and emotional harshness in the mix, sadly.
Being Mormon meant no coffee, or risk missing out on becoming a god with your own planet in the afterlife. Planet-building ambitions crushed.
Women could hold some power but never boss men. To stay 'pure’, men always traveled in pairs - kind of like Jesus's OG squad.
Tried exorcising demons at home on me. Spoiler: I just have schizophrenia. Exorcism? Not so much.
One time I dried my rained-on shoes in the dryer, and some dude thought he heard rock music. Almost ratted me out! Rock was definitely the enemy.
I was told the Messiah was a Filipino dude, and that holidays and even questions during church were evil. So of course, that made me evil at 12.
Car broke down? No worries, just pray over it and hope it magically fixes itself. Spoiler: cars don't listen.
There was a parenting book suggesting ‘blanket training’ - where babies got put on blankets and smacked if they crawled away. Cringe.
The pastor's wife's fibromyalgia was blamed on all of the congregation's sins. As if she’s paying the price for everyone else's screw-ups.
At 7 years old, fasting for a full 24 hours was a regular thing. Because waiting forever for cookies is apparently spiritual.
Saying ‘awesome’ was banned because Satan stole the word to make God look lame. Talk about word policing.
I was locked up with some middle-aged guy who taught us about virginity by crushing a dollar bill and comparing us to it. The grownups cheered him on. Gross.
Men were treated as the top dogs, and kids were told they had to earn forgiveness for tempting their abusers. Yeah, no.
I got shamed for not harassing strangers enough and for confessing ‘too much.’ I also donated plasma to pay off the pastor's credit card. Fun times.
Cooked with wine but poured it down the drain afterward to avoid temptation. Oh, and ‘flirty fishing’ - that’s a thing too.
The elders had secret, one-on-one meetings with young girls to tell them they were failing God. No chaperones, just intense pressure.
When I was 16, my dad blamed me for missing money I never had. He called me a thief, tore my room apart, and I was terrified.
We’d all gather and chant gibberish like our lives depended on it, get secret names nobody else knew, and rock sword necklaces. Still not sure what it all meant, but super glad I left.
The level of shame was insane. People couldn’t make decisions for fear the leader would say no. Kids grew into adults who self-hated and burned out fast.
My sister had her first seizure while we played music, and an elder rushed over yelling about casting out demons - while my mom just prayed loudly. No hospital, just chaos.
Our pastor wanted us to donate our entire paychecks on ‘Paycheck Sunday’ to ‘keep the church afloat.’ We were barely eating, but she did it. No miracles, just powdered milk.
We’d turn off the lights and scream as loud as possible, punch pillows, and some folks puked around us. Emotional rollercoaster? More like a hurricane.
Instead of ADHD, my mom blamed my struggles on me being a ‘starseed.’ Sci-fi diagnosis, anybody?
Twelve-year-old girls got to wear their moms’ wedding dresses for pics while boys had way more fun playing laser tag. Childhood balance, disrupted.
They prepped for the world ending with jars of grapes soaked in wine, ready to survive with the weirdest apocalypse snacks.
Pants? Only when it's freezing below 38°F. Oh, and they brought a guy claiming he could make diamonds fall from the sky. Tried to make me turn water into wine too. Cult magic overload.
The leader got super mad when someone else copied his massage technique, but he claims to be super humble. Cult humility is a thing.
Before marriage, the guy had to separate thousands of rice grains for a ritual. I hated it but did it for my wife, not the big guy upstairs.
Ex-Mormon here. During special times, we wave white handkerchiefs above our heads chanting ‘Hosanna’ over and over. You try it once - it’s something.
Tithing wasn’t just about money - it was your fire insurance. Pay up or get roasted when the Lord returns with vengeance.
Grandad blamed my rock tunes for making angels cry. Fair enough, angels are sensitive, I guess.
In a classic power move, guys would say God told them it was time to chat with particular girls. That’s not creepy at all.
The church planned a $2 billion expansion and made everyone publicly sign tithing promises, locking the papers in gold treasure boxes on stage. Weird flex.
At Pentecostal revivals, everyone was making tongues and joy noises except me. Made me feel like a spiritual dud.
Our ‘official’ cult dinner was this mystery meat paste on a roll with pickles. We thought it was just cheap, but nope - it was tradition.
It was drilled into us: A single small sin = murder-level hell. Talk about skewing your moral compass.
Ministry meant no beard, no movies, no TV, no secular tunes, and weddings had to be small Sunday altar calls. Talk about strict rules.
When Dad was kicked out for cheating, the whole family got tagged as bad association. Talk about family punishment.
At one location, we’d all clap in sync to the founder’s theme song and yell ‘hip hip hooray’ every event. Cult cheerleading, in action.
Think girls camp with painful songs, getting married at 18 like it’s nothing, and men being sealed to many wives forever. Yeah, it’s all a thing.
We’d get dressed head to toe in white, surrounded by oxen, and dunk people who’ve passed on, with two guys ‘bearing witness.’ Yep, ritual baptisms live.
There was a phase where we’d hit up graves of church ‘fathers’ and lay on them hoping to absorb their special powers. Graveyard weirdness.
We got paid in cash, but no coin could cross the threshold. Coins had to be buried outside so ‘they’ couldn’t spy on us. Coins are secret agents?
We were told we wouldn’t make it to heaven, but get to chill in paradise for a millennium. Then, surprise! We gotta prove ourselves again.
Baptizing the deceased via proxies and having secret handshakes and names for the top heavenly layers gave the whole thing an exclusive VIP vibe.
No coffee allowed because it’s against God’s word. Sometimes I wonder if Jesus ever sipped espresso.
About 400 people uprooted from Southern California to Nashville in the mid-90s. I mean, why not? Big moves happen!
Parents and grandparents paid off priests to say prayers that’d boost their chances of heaven. Pray now, cash now.
My grandma told me stories about throwing up black stuff that was supposedly a demon, while I sat there in my pajamas. Childhood trauma? Yup.
Our cult life highlights: healing trips for autism, praying over Harry Potter DVDs to keep out demons, and exorcisms to get rid of flies. Cult multitasking!
Imagine wanting to get ‘slain in the spirit’ by some traveling preacher - falling on the floor, babbling tongues, and all the drama that comes with it.
White dudes in the church had top authority and got to mentor teen girls, especially chatting about purity and… marital s*x. Ew.
Women doing the nitty-gritty of household work? Just ‘invisible labor’ because obviously men are the bosses here.
Never a dull moment - had to be on full demon lookout 24/7 within the home. No break for the paranoid!
Apparently, school clubs were government traps to teach procreation so kids would end up on welfare, where they’d get the mark of the beast. Wild times.
Sometimes reality was two things at once, and convoluted stories ruled the day. Confused? So were we.
People speaking in tongues, making wild prophecies, and falling on the floor was part of the show. Surface stuff, but still eye-opening.
You had to beg for permission for basic things - like cutting your own hair or going to a friend’s graduation party outside the church. Freedom courtesy of the cult.
Feel sick? Don’t ask for medicine; you just weren’t faithful enough! The blame game in full effect.
My friend was told to live in the same rental apartment with other members and had to monitor each other’s media for sin. Not forced, but very strongly pushed.
We literally sang the Song of Solomon to Jesus. If you know the book, you know why this is extra weird.
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