So far not a lot of satisfying answers, but just seeing some of the attitudes of authoritarian followers spelled out (backed up by studies) gives me a little context to work with.

It also helps me reflect on the RWA (right-wing authoritarian) attitudes prevalent in my community growing up & why some of my siblings stuck with that, & I didn't.

What follows are my reflections, inspired by but not deeply engaging specifically with the text of the book.

I have typically thought of the circumstances of my leaving that community in personal & individual terms, which makes sense. It's a decision I made.

But that doesn't tell the whole story of what happened & why.

That's my piece of the story. What happened with the people I knew after I left? What did my departure mean to them?

It's something I tend to avoid thinking about because at first I was filled with guilt & shame for "not turning out the way I was supposed to."

I was supposed to have these RWA attitudes, & I did in childhood & young adulthood, but once alternatives were presented to me, I knew that at the end of my journey of discovery, I would no longer have the same beliefs as when I started.

What happens when someone sees the potential for that journey but decides not to leave the comfort of "home"?

And what happens when they watch someone else leave? What happens when someone violates their trust & safety as they see it?

I really have avoided thinking on this one because it is painful.

For a long time, I couldn't think about it, because—while I knew I was right to move on—the pain of being judged by the people I used to know & trust made me doubt myself.

So I put away these thoughts for later—later when I would be able to trust myself not to be thrown for a loop by the social/emotional aspects of my choices.

I think this is "later".

When someone leaves the group, authoritarians may feel temporarily challenged but they can always turn back to the rest of the group for reassurance.

And who are they going to listen to, the person criticizing their group—"slandering" it they may think—or the people still solidly in that safe group, which they already sure has all the answers & a monopoly on truth?

It's not going to matter that much if the person leaving the group is known to have integrity & be a relentless truth-seeker. Or maybe it's worse: in their book, another way to spell truth-seeker is "troublemaker".

A person who relentlessly seeks out the truth is someone who doesn't accept the group's assertion that they have all the Truth already.

I see things about myself that I think it would be impossible for anyone to have a problem with.

It seems impossible to me that "always stands on her principles & never stops trying to learn more" could be perceived as negative traits, but what about "questions authorities & stubbornly disagrees with them"?

I don't see myself as they see me. Of course I don't.

So when I expect someone to listen to me because they should *know* me, they may be choosing not to listen specifically *because* they believe that they know me.

To them, my "best" traits are not marks of honor, but sinful pride. We value extremely different things.

I expect someone who knows me to value my integrity, to know I may not be perfect, but I always try to do what I believe is right & to hear me out because they should know that about me. I used to be a model Christian, & I don't really feel that I've changed in essence, just removed the "Christian" label.

I figure I'm the same person they've always known.

But they hear that I do "what I believe is right" & think "DANGER!"

But it fucking makes sense.

I think liberation is my autistic special interest, & what sucks about that is that, not only am I personally & politically isolated from most of the people I knew in my youth, I literally stand in opposition to their values AND I can't stop thinking & talking about mine.

My values are truth, freedom/self-determination, compassion, & equity.

Their values are group loyalty, obedience, conformity, & hierarchy.

These are not fucking compatible.

I make the assumption of shared values constantly. I should not.

I don't know what to do with this information yet, but I need to accept that I never understood these people. I believed their words about honesty, integrity, truth, & justice, & did not see what was in front of my eyes, that their behavior betrayed a much different set of values. When I got a look at what they did that was opposed to what they *said*, I thought I could appeal to the things they said to correct what they did.

I see now that of course, what authoritarian followers *do* reflects what they believe a lot more than the things they *say*.

The things they *say* are intended to project an image to the world & to themselves, to spin a story about who they are that backs up what they already believe about themselves & others.

The things they say are defense & camouflage to hide the things that motivate them from within: fear, anger, & a need to find something to conform to.

Authoritarian followers don't really have beliefs in the sense of fixed ideas that are internally consistent. They need a group & a leader.

They agree to a hundred contradictory things before breakfast, because it's not about thought; it's about belonging & the comfort of knowing you are already right about everything (whatever "everything" happens to be today—you can only be "always right" if you are willing to slide to whatever "right" is according to the group & its authorities today).

I've been watching videos by an ex-Mormon woman (Life Take Two on YouTube). She described something I hadn't thought much about: authoritarian followers are terrified of being leaderless.

The 1 time she voted for a Democrat back in her Mormon days was for Barack Obama, because he felt like a leader. Most of the time she was literally scared by Democrats because they appeared to be leaderless, & to her that was horrifying chaos. Without a leader, how do you know what to do or what you believe?

It's strange to me, the thought of being scared of not having someone controlling you & telling you what to do. I've spent much of my life vehemently asserting my right to make my own decisions & defending the right of others to do the same.

But if having a leader—an "authority"—is what provides you with your sense of comfort & confidence, I guess I can see it. Talk about people who need to learn to heal their own emotional wounds...

Thinking of my sister as an authoritarian follower does at least explain one baffling thing from my childhood.

My older sister used to constantly correct me—bully me relentlessly in fact—about my clothes, my makeup, the way I talked, everything.

And then she would tell me she *wished* she had an older sister to tell her how to do things! She was apparently doing me a favor.

I always thought she was a hypocrite & would have hated having an older sister teaching her how to perform girlhood/womanhood "correctly" just as much as I did, but maybe she was completely sincere.

Maybe she actually did wish she had someone to tell her what to do, so she didn't have to figure it out for herself.

In any case, I constantly begged her to leave me alone & stop giving me her opinions, & she wouldn't. All I wanted to do was decide how I wanted to look & present myself & exist.

She acted shocked & offended when I reacted with hurt & anger to her corrections. She never thought she ever did anything wrong, even though she was constantly tearing down my self-esteem & self-confidence. She would not apologize, no matter how harsh, critical, & completely unnecessary her remarks were.

Is it possible she actually did think she was helping me? I never believed it, because to me that's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. She could have just listened to me & let me alone.

But I dunno, I guess if she was desperately wishing someone would *tell her what to do* in very clear terms, maybe she thought everyone wanted to be told what to do?

In any case, I tried to make it very clear year after year after year that I did not want to be told what to do, so any confusion on her part is not for my lack of trying.