aNGE'S STORY

Cade and Ange Johnson, wedding ceremony

Cade and Ange now

Escaping from a high-demand religious cult is a journey few can comprehend. Angie's story of leaving the Fundamentalist Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (FLDS) offers a rare glimpse into the psychological and emotional challenges faced by those born into extreme religious environments.

Born and raised in a small FLDS community in Canada, Angie's world was defined by rigid patriarchal structures, polygamous marriages, and absolute obedience. Her childhood, while seemingly typical from her perspective at the time, was strictly controlled. The FLDS, a breakaway sect from mainstream Mormonism, continued practicing polygamy after the LDS Church abandoned it. Members were isolated from the outside world – no television, no movies, and minimal contact with non-FLDS people. Education was carefully curated, with significant omissions in history, science, and basic life knowledge that most take for granted.

The power of high-control groups lies in their ability to instill deep fear and shame in members. Angie describes how the FLDS taught that they were "God's chosen children" who would be "lifted up" during an apocalyptic cleansing of the earth if they were righteous enough. This created a cycle of never feeling good enough, with leadership exploiting natural disasters and world events as evidence of impending doom. Questions were discouraged, with members told to "put them on a shelf" until heaven, where God would provide answers.

When Angie rebelled as a teenager by cutting her hair – an act forbidden in the religion – she was pulled out of school. Shortly afterward, at just 16 years old, she was married to a man she barely knew in an arranged marriage. The wedding consisted of two ceremonies: a legal one at a laundromat (to keep outsiders away from their community) and a religious one on FLDS property. Like many young women in the community, she entered marriage with no understanding of intimacy or physical relationships.

The role of women in the FLDS was particularly restrictive. They were taught that their highest purpose was to become worthy of being a wife to a "priesthood man." Multiple wives were considered a blessing, with larger families seen as fulfilling the directive to "multiply and replenish the earth" with God's chosen people. The jealousy and competition among wives was often masked behind religious devotion, with women constantly vying for their husband's attention and favor.

Angie's departure from the FLDS came after continuing to rebel against her assigned role. Unlike many who escape, she had the relative fortune of having an aunt outside the religion willing to take her in, though they had never met. The emotional toll, however, was immense – leaving meant abandoning her entire community, family, and what she had been taught was her eternal salvation.

Perhaps the most remarkable aspect of Angie's story is what came after leaving. She reconnected with her assigned husband, who had independently left the religion, and they chose to build a life together on their own terms. Both had to navigate an unfamiliar world, learning about everything from popular culture to birth control (they quickly became pregnant after leaving). The challenge of building a life without family support or community while simultaneously processing religious trauma cannot be overstated.

Today, Angie holds a master's degree in nursing, while her husband works as a life flight helicopter pilot. They've dedicated themselves to breaking cycles of trauma and providing their children with the freedom, education, and supportive environment they never had. Rather than perpetuating the fear-based control they experienced, they celebrate when their children question and challenge them – seeing it as evidence they've created a safe space their own parents never provided.

Angie's journey demonstrates the remarkable resilience of the human spirit and the possibility of transformation even after the most restrictive upbringing. Her story reminds us that while we can't choose our beginnings, we can certainly choose our path forward – finding what she calls "glimmers" of joy and hope even after experiencing profound trauma and loss.