My Story
Why I Write
I left Synanon in 1977, with a quarter inch of hair; an ex-heroin addict boyfriend; a mixed-race 2-year-old; and one suitcase of clothes and $30 among us.
From the day I left, I wanted to write about the wonderful community I lived; yet I kept having nightmares. So I put it off until I retired. That's when l admitted I lived in a cult.
My cult experience echoes through my life and through my son's life.
My story is in three parts: (1) Lured into and loving the cult, battling by love of community with my inner feelings of something is wrong; (2) leaving and getting back on my feet; and (3) facing racism and sexism as I raised my son.
The Synanon Prayer:
Please let me first and always examine myself
Let me be honest and truthful
Let me seek and assume responsibility
Let me understand rather than be understood
Let me trust and have faith in myself and my fellow man
Let me love rather than be loved
Let me give rather than receive.