Who am I? Who are we?
If you have landed on our story, you may wonder who I am, who these people are and where we are from.
Because our story is still unfolding, we have chosen to protect the identities in the pages. One day, when the light has revealed all, who we are may become clear.
But for now, that doesn’t matter. If you know, you know.
And if you don’t you will most likely find connection and similarities in the pages of our story, with some of your own.
For two decades, I lived under the canopy of a high-control church, where faith and community were used for the advancement of a vision. My story is one of spiritual abuse cloaked in righteousness, a tale far too common yet rarely spoken of. Like the willow tree, my journey symbolises resilience—the ability to bend under the weight of hardship and loss yet remain unbroken, rooting anew in the aftermath.
For years, I believed I was serving God by building something eternal. Instead, I discovered the pain of having complicitly served a narcissistic leader, devoting my life to building a kingdom made of sand. We stayed loyal because we thought he was representing God. But when the walls crumbled, I realized the truth: my service had enabled harm, and my silence had left victims without a voice.
This revelation ignited a fight within me—not just for my own healing but for advocacy, for truth, and for the voices of the victims to finally be heard. It was and is a long and painful road, one that led to reconnecting with members who had left long before me, each bearing their own stories of abuse and survival. Together, we pieced together a fuller picture of the harm done, finding healing in our shared pain and love in the midst of devastation.
Writing became our shared act of restoration. Stories and poems poured out, from me and other survivors alike, weaving a tapestry of truth and resilience. Together, we found healing by giving voice to the silenced and holding space for each other’s journeys.
In these pages, you’ll find our untold accounts of spiritual abuse, the fight for justice, and the bittersweet reconnections with those who had long been cast aside. Through poetry, testimony, and story, we map a path toward restoration, rooted in freedom and love. A journey that mirrors the willow tree, bending but unbroken, standing firm and planting new roots.
This is not just my story; it is ours. Welcome to The Hidden Diary of The Willow Tree. 🌿
Dear Pastor
Dear Pastor, I know you didn’t see this coming. Neither did I. We were all blinded. You to yourself. Us to you. I want you to know I had no intention to hurt you. There is no revenge in my heart. I do …
Why I Write
These stories and poems have come out of a period of darkness in my life. A time when the lights went out, but a candle kept burning, growing warmer and brighter the more I allowed my memories to cascade onto the page.
I am an artist. For the many months following ‘the implosion,’ I could not create, function in my gifts, or earn an income from my professional art business. I was stuck down the rabbit hole with other survivors falling into the deep, dark ravine. We grasped each other’s hands as we dived deeper, pulling resources from the shelves that bent inwards around us. Books, Podcasts, Videos, Sermons… We found hope in the darkness and safety in the connectedness.
As I write, each story a revolving memory that has haunted me for so long, I release its hold on me. As I write, I place the pages of that part of my book back on the shelf for someone else to grow from.
Their Stories Haunt Me
I write this as a memory of my experience five months ago. In the depth of ‘the process’, turned upside down each day as hope turned to despair and back to hope again. The…
The details in these recounts are drawn from memories. Those of victims, and my own. Some memories cascade into other memories.
The Hidden Diary of The Willow Tree
Unlock hidden stories that are not shared on my public substack. These moments push deeper, reveal more, and as such, they are sealed.
This section of my substack is a confidential diary; access is granted, and trust is given.
I appreciate your support as you take this journey of restoration and healing with me.
⚖️ LEGAL DISCLAIMER
This is an accurate account of lived experience. While personal in voice, it is supported by a wide range of documentation, including emails, videos, messages, meeting records, weather logs, mapped timelines, and ongoing discussions with others directly involved.
The events described in this memoir reflect both personal recollections and extensive research. To respect privacy and emotional safety, names and identifying details have been changed where appropriate. Some elements have been softened or shifted, not to obscure truth, but to protect those who did not choose to be part of this telling.
This substack is not written with the intent to accuse or cause harm, but to offer insight, solidarity, and a pathway to healing for those navigating the effects of spiritual abuse and high-control systems.
While every effort has been made to represent events with care and integrity, this memoir is not a substitute for legal, psychological, or medical advice. Readers are encouraged to seek professional support where needed.
