.06 ex2x2 Facebook Group post

Finding the ex-2x2 community

I didn't see the 2022 summer media coverage of the 2x2 abuse scandal (I was busy with the failed Regina tourism rebrand, sigh).

I'd kept up to date with 2x2 happenings over the years. My interest would wane (truly, everything felt so boring; even though I wanted to know what was going on with the 2x2s, I found whatever it was to be so grey and colourless, it was difficult to muster the energy).

I followed Australian media coverage, but that country feels so far away. It might as well be a distant planet. It was challenging to imagine we were talking about the same thing. Once in a while I perused the websites that collate 2x2 information, trolled the message boards I find confusing in their basic-ness.

But I didn’t participate in any of these things.

My inclination to look for and at them? It was infrequent, and temperamental.

And then.

I’m not often on social media but belong to a private group where journalists and writers ask questions and give advice. I was prepping for tax season; had a question about something freelance-related. I logged in and perused, scrolling for anything CRA-related.

My eye caught a post. A journalist was looking for suggestions. Where could she place a piece about the 2x2s?

What the actual—

A quick Google search and I was off.

The first link was to the January 2024 BBC piece BBC confronts man who abused boy in secretive Christian church.

The first words in the piece, the first sentence. A name I knew.

You know when people say they’re having an out of body experience, but don’t literally mean they were floating above their body but it’s the only way to explain?

I’ve said the phrase before in passing, and while my use of it now won’t necessarily correspond with the meaning others ascribe it, I had an out of body experience.

It’s nearly a year since I read that article and I feel the same things today as I write this.

My body feels not like myself. It’s hard to describe but I’ll try. My fingers are cold; my skin is prickly. My heart hurts, and I don’t know if it’s the actual heart, or the theoretical one.

I’m myself wholly and at the same time, I’m not.

I read more, now about a hotline set up to report sexual abuse in the 2x2s.

Again. What the actual—

I jabbed wildly around the internet. Found CBC articles naming accused, listing court dates. Found the Omaha FBI information seeking page.

Then, thankfully—somehow—I found myself asking to join a private Facebook group for ex 2x2 members.

It’s been nearly a year now.

A year where I wrestled with things I’d long believed had been settled but were not.

A year where I wept often, and in ways I’d never. A year of healing, but of better, more lasting healing than any I’d done to that point.

I told you I’ll tell you the story—and I will.

I paused for a bit—not because it’s too hard or too long. Not because I don’t know how to tell it, or didn’t want to.

I stopped because I got busy doing things I love, and I’m glad of that. I’m also glad to be back. Glad to have had that space to let the story simmer.

Because even though it’s written, even though I’m ready, there is something important that happens when I take a step back from this, and then when it’s time, step forward again.

Here’s to forward.

To begin that forward motion again, I’m sharing my first post in that ex2x2 Facebook group, one typed late at night with my thumbs on my phone, frantically sharing what had till that point, been something mine alone.

I can’t say I’m glad there is a healing from religious trauma community of us—not for the reasons we’re one. But I’d be lying if I said finding people I don’t have to explain myself to hasn’t been, well. It’s a big deal. And I’m grateful.