Just prior to spring of this year I decided to go south and visit family. Two of them live in Clearwater. I mentioned that I'd like to go downtown and sea the new SP, ironic, building. I'd had much time to consider the visit.
I've posted previously about the physical responses; fully body shaking, vision greying in and out, getting lightheaded, that happens when I speak out about the cult. I've since read and listened to Jon Atack speak about cognitive dissonance and physical reactions. Having this information has helped ease it but it still occurs. Having those reactions when I got to the SP building was a big concern for me.
Driving from their place toward downtown I got my first glimpse of the SP building and felt the inner beginnings of the tremors. As we got closer and I could see the SP better they got worse.
My first impression of the building from a distance and from the side where we parked; it was a square block with square blocks on it and attached to it. Someone had attempted to give it some style with some decorative edges on the blocks. My first feelings about it; I felt assaulted that it even exists.
Before coming I thought, "they call themselves a church". Churches all over the world have people that come to them to take pictures of their beautiful buildings, inside and out. If they're going to call themselves a church they too should expect this.
We parked curbside on Garden facing the SP and Franklin. It's on the side where the buses pick up and drop off. I got out of the car, crossed Franklin to the SP where I walked slowly past people waiting for the next bus. Slowly partly due to my body tremors which make it hard not to walk like a zombie. Slowly mostly because I wanted to be there in the moment. When I left I wanted having been there to be real, and felt, and bigger to me than the time I'd spent being in.
I walked to the first corner, a cut out corner with a cement rounded bench to sit and a garden behind it. I looked up at the cross. My first thought was it's meaningless. Simply meaningless. My second thought got me laughing. "I joined a religion started by a science fiction writer that used a double cross as it's symbol, and then they tried to sell me a bridge.....what could have possibly gone wrong?" Thank you Clamicide.
I started taking pictures of the cross and the building walking toward the over street enclosed walkway between the SP and The Fort Harrison. That made me think about the tunnel under the highway at Gold. The Fort Harrison made me think about the horror stories out of there and Lisa McPherson.
When I got to the next corner and saw the main entrance area with the cult symbol embedded in the pavement I had to laugh again. Big mistake on their part. They put that on there like it was some hallowed ground. Instead it felt like tomb cover. Absolutely I wanted to walk all over that! It'd be like dancing on an enemy's grave! I got my iPad out of my purse and pulled up Miss Lovely. I set her here and set her there. I set Miss Lovely everywhere! And got pictures.
I realized then that I was not afraid of them. It wasn't an overwhelming realization. It was calming and serene. I have every right to speak out and tell my story. We have freedom of speech and my life has a story. If they didn't want to be a part of my story then they should never have come to my door 34 years ago. I wasn't shaking anymore. Tremors were gone. I set Miss Lovely in the middle of the symbol and got another picture.
I put Miss Lovely in my purse, walked up the steps, opened and walked through their door.
That encounter is posted above. What I didn't say about that is this. The only person who looked me in the eyes the entire time I was at the SP, and only for a few seconds, was the receptionist. All of them seemed cowed, seemed afraid. Public and staff. What I'd felt for many years being out was now reversed. The fear was on their side. The fear of me, of us, of anyone on the outside. And I remembered that same fear when I was in. But I also remembered that that fear became a fear of the organization and the people I was in with until I was more afraid to stay than to leave.
As much joy as I was feeling at what I was doing for myself that day, I felt equal sadness for those I saw and most, but not all, who are still in.
As for the SP itself, even without bars, it looks like a fancied up prison building. As it should.
The moral of this story is; there are so many exes and critics that the cult can't know us all by face. The majority of us can be a picture taking tourist and walk into any of their buildings. The receptionist pulled out the previously posted about Information Center card as if she'd done it before. It's a free souvenir. The only free thing I ever got from the cult.
All along the way that day what was more real, and bigger, and more felt than my time in was my time out. My time since the early '90's finding exes online, all of the books read and You Tube videos seen and posts here and on Facebook and Twitter over the years. I had more people with me, supporting me, that day than could be seen. Thanks to all of you.