I remember being offered this piece of garbage text when I was in my mid-teens and still attempting to force myself to faith. It’s first few chapters elicited a defining moment: every single concept that my father taught me was in direct opposition to the ethos of ‘a good Christian girl.’

He taught me that I am my own shield and my own sword. He taught me that to lay down that burden meant the death of who *I* am. He taught me that when every thing else is gone and ashes, that I will still have to face my own true self, and to survive it I must be able to come to terms with all my terribleness.

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My dad’s entire child rearing goal wasn’t to raise a child, but to raise an adult. One who doesn’t merely survive, but who exalts in the crucible that life can be. My value will never be in who I marry or what children I may bear, but in how well I bear my truth.

‘Purity Culture’ is a death cult. Death of ego, death of honesty, death of hope and individuality. It trains men and women not to live and glory in the temple their god made, but to prepare their children to die.

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