Boundaries, False Humility, And Cake

Last week I shared a personal story about a problematic ministry leader from my past who got arrested. In that story, I spoke directly about the following:

• Being taught about the lake of fire (hell) for eternity as a child.

• Being ostracized from my family and community if I did not attend conversion therapy.

• The mental breakdown caused by attending said therapy.

• The continued abuse/trauma from the leadership of the organizations.

• The president of the largest organization got arrested last week in a pedophile sting.

The summary of this was: I have peace in my life and found that peace long before the so-called justice was served with his arrest. I am grateful I did not tie my peace to an outcome out of my control.

You left comments about your stories. Remarkable, heartbreaking, inspiring stories, like only survivors can.

What I enjoy about storytelling in this format is it makes room for someone to sit, process, and then type out how the words pull from something inside of them that needs to be named. This, in my experience, can also be healing for someone. To read words that have just the right mixture of personal backstory and how to manage the experience, a person can allow something meaningful (often difficult) to linger in vulnerable places. What usually feels like fear and anxiety can become more understood, therefore allowing it to be released a bit quicker because the person feels like their experience is shared.

You do this in my comments every week. Thank you. This is healing in real time.

Because I take this work seriously and respect the context of it, I do not allow comments to remain that are going to trigger someone else or take away from the focus of the story. I was not shocked last week when I read:

“You’re really suggesting the lake of fire is not real ???”

I went to his profile. A pastor. Elderly. Says he works with youth.

Years ago, I watched an interview that a few people recommended to me.

I will not name the person being interviewed, but he shared a story about how he received public backlash on a public forum. He suggested it was curiosity that led him to send a direct message to the person criticizing him. He is well-known, and he suggests the person immediately becomes flustered and apologizes. He goes on to explain that the person was in pain and he learned more about the person’s story, while vaguely rementioning the person was touched when he reached out. The emphasis was on how the person kept apologizing for the negative feedback and was shocked to hear from someone this well-known.

I was struck by how this person told a story that made him look like a hero, all while wearing a flashy outfit, pointing directly at what would be seen as humble.

I don’t like compliments. I don’t dislike them because I am pretending to get someone to try harder. My brain does not have the same reward center that a neurotypical person has, so what is meaningful to someone else and may feel like words of affirmation or validation for me is often experienced as just information.

I have a joke on repeat with those closest to me. When they compliment one small thing (”Nate, you are funny.”) I reply and name 4-18 other positive traits they may need to be reminded of about me, and I end it with, “And I am also EXTREMELY humble, and I don’t even know it.”

This interview felt a bit like that to me. I guess good on him for being curious, but it felt like he was pretending to tell a story about being curious about others, but with a very large side dish of “Holy Shit. Can you believe how humble I am?”

When the pastor left the comment, I immediately removed it because had my readers seen it, it would have felt like someone was taking away from their experience and it would have gotten replies that took the focus away from the key points of the story.

I kept thinking of the interview I’d watched years prior and asking myself, “What would it be like if you sent this person a message to understand more of where he is coming from?” Then, I took a huge bite of Oreo cake from a bakery here in Buenos Aires, went to the guy’s profile on here, blocked him, and then took another bite of that cake.

Let me be clear on this one piece first: To read through the details of things like conversion therapy, my reference to many who lost their lives to AIDS, the leader of a corrupt cult being arrested on pedohile charges and someones take away to be “YoU nO lOngEr BeLieVe In hEll?!” We are not only not operating with the same goals, but we are not orbiting the same reality.

Doing this work and sharing publicly has come at a personal cost. So personal, that I am still reprocessing what the hell the last six years have been for me, a loner, an introvert, showing up on these social media apps, and building this large platform while pretending not to struggle with it all—every single day.

Coming to this space and focusing more on long-form content has done much of what I needed it to do. It releases creativity for me, helps me connect a lot of rambling thoughts (that need to be connected), and hopefully gives insight for someone who (like me much of my life) needs some things clearly defined to make their load a little lighter.

I have no desire to know more about this pastor. While he is not responsible for what other pastors have done to me or the masses of other innocent people walking around with religious trauma in their lives, he is responsible for respecting my space.

His response had nothing to do with my belief about the afterlife. His response was about him. My guess would be he has some unprocessed emotions and a lack of education on things I wrote about. He read through my essay and saw factual information like “Well-known ministry leader arrested in pedophile sting,” and instead of pausing and expressing an emotionally mature response, he shifted the narrative to something else to escape his own discomfort—while implying my beliefs should be doubted. That is a slippery slope he created.

Something I have learned from posting publicly, is there have often been people who follow my work because they know if the people they’ve hurt find me, they will be in trouble. They do not follow me to embrace it but to keep their thumb on it and pretend they can control me.

So, let me put this out there:

I take healing seriously. I take the well-being of hurt people seriously. I don’t abide by the rules of social media, cancel culture, facades of humility, fame, social clout, or pretending to respect the elderly who refuse to show up in respectful ways.

I have done my work to recover from trauma. I will continue to do my work to grow and heal. There is a long list of things that I want to improve on, but creating space for people who haven’t done the basics in healing work while having the confidence to disrupt safe spaces is of no interest to me.

My compassion is held for those needing compassion. My curiosity is held for those showing a desire to grow and heal.

I come to this space and I do this work, because I once laid on my bedroom floor and said to myself “If I make it out of this, I want to try and help others.”

At that time, barely hanging on, there were no people telling me about hope, and many people, just like this pastor, interrupting what could have saved my life.

I am telling you about the pastor because I want to remind you that being elderly, or being a pastor does not warrant respect. Being respectful does.

It is a shame he will no longer have access to this space, because seeing your stories could have been something that helped him address his own.

I am learning there are plenty of people who want honesty in their lives. This is often because of how many people curate false narratives for them, or in this case, blatantly push their denial and expect someone else to address it.

I am no longer holding space for those who inappropriately invade mine--professionally and personally. I am too tired, too happy, and have worked too hard for my peace.

Do I believe in hell? Yes, but thankfully, I found my way out.

I hope you do too.

I’m glad you’re here.

Nate

Reflections:

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I want you to pause for a moment and think of a person in your life that shows up, changes the narrative, and refuses to read the room. What has been modeled here that you need to manage (or not manage, change, etc) the relationship with this person?

Final thoughts:

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It took years to get to this place with boundaries. Years. When I tell you there is complete and total peace in remaining unaffected by unwell people, there is. But it took years to understand the validity in protecting my space and understanding the detriment of a person willing to invade it. Any step you take towards this is huge. Go get it! 🫶

Truly, truly, I’m glad you’re here.