Curiosity killed the cat.

It also eliminated the church member.

I wasn’t offended or spreading gossip. I was asking questions so I could understand and try to heal.

Distance, process, heal, return. That was my honest goal.

Instead, my curiosity offended them. In their eyes, I was a problem that must be isolated. A liability that must be silenced. An outcast that must be removed.

But it wasn’t just me. It was my husband and our kids, too. The cost outweighed the benefit, and our family was cut off.

If I’m not careful, I get stuck in this crazy cycle: I know it’s not my fault, but I also know that the ones in charge blame me. I also know that others could easily join them.

I’m tired of having to remind myself that while I played a part, I’m not the reason why it all fell apart.

I will always ask questions. I will always seek justice. And I will always share my truth.

But life moves on. And people move on without you. It’s a harsh reality that’s all too familiar.

It’s especially hard to process when your church family gathers for a night of fun and togetherness… and you’re not invited.

I almost forgot. I almost forgot that I don’t belong there. That I’m not welcome anymore.

Some people are oblivious. They believe the story they’re told, without questioning its integrity. For others, the shock has worn off.

But for us, it’s a daily reminder. Our whole world has been flipped upside down, shaken, and tossed to the side. Our support system trampled, our financial stability removed.

And the worst part? We’re getting blamed for our brokenness.

The system has not been kind to me. And I’m left behind to wonder: Where is Jesus in our modern-day church experience?

When there is cause for concern, I will always question the authority and their motivation. And when I’ve seen too much, how can I stay silent? How can I not speak up with the hopes of saving innocent people from similar situations?

People are only valuable when they’re useful: that’s the lie we’ve been deceived to believe. So when people set boundaries, they are banished from the inner circle. They’re unfairly mislabeled. They’re wrongfully accused. And when they try to heal from those cycles of spiritual abuse, they’re uninvited from the table.

Because who can stand up to their abusers – their pastors, their shepherds – and live to stay a part of the flock?

Curiosity is not a comfortable companion, but it’s better than living with the wool pulled over your eyes. Curiosity can lead to awareness, which can open a door to accountability and illuminate a path toward real change.

True colors will always shine through, once the light of truth exposes the darkness.

And if they won’t listen to your story, find someone who will.