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.