Escaping One Cult, Joining Another? The Trap of Ideological Echo Chambers

When ‘Cult Recovery’ Looks a Lot Like a New Cult

I had a lot of different topics in mind for my final solo episode of Taste of Truth Tuesdays Season 3. For example, The Stress-Mitochondria Connection: How B vitamins, Taurine and Magnesium Fuel your Energy, A world without religion: Freedom or Fragmentation, How Emotional Trauma contributes to Chronic Pain or the Social Media Dilemma How to Break Free from the Digital Grip… But then, a new development landed right in my lap—one that perfectly encapsulates the concerning trends I’ve been observing in the deconstruction, ex-Christian, anti-MLM, and ex-cult communities.

My friend Brandie, who I had on in Season 2 for the episode From Serendipity to Scrutiny, recently blocked me. And why? Because I simply pushed back and asked questions. We’d had some private conversations in the DMs that had already raised red flags for me, but apparently, even the slightest bit of pushback was enough to get me cut off. This isn’t just about one friendship—it’s about a much bigger pattern I’ve seen unfolding.

The Deconstruction Pipeline: When Leaving a High-Control Group Means Entering Another

One of the biggest ironies in the ExChristian circles is how quickly people flee high-control religious environments only to land in equally dogmatic ideological spaces. This isn’t a coincidence—it’s human nature. As Jonathan Haidt lays out in The Righteous Mind, our reasoning evolved more for argumentation than truth-seeking. We are wired for confirmation bias, and when we leave one belief system, we often replace it with another that feels equally absolute but now appears “rational” or “liberating.”

This is where figures like Steven Hassan and Janja Lalich come in (because this isn’t just about Brandie) self-proclaimed experts on cults who, ironically, exhibit the same control tactics they claim to expose. Hassan, a former Moonie turned cult deprogrammer, has made a career out of helping people escape authoritarian religious systems. But a deeper look at his work reveals an ideological bent (it’s hard to ignore). He frequently frames conservative or traditional religious beliefs as inherently cult-like while giving progressive or leftist movements a pass. He has called Trumpism a cult but is conspicuously silent on the high-control tactics within certain progressive activist spaces. His criteria for what constitute undue influence seem to shift depending on the political context, (BITE model) making his framework less about critical thinking and more about reinforcing his preferred ideological narrative. I did what Hassan won’t: use his own model to break down the mind control tactics of the extreme left.

Janja Lalich follows a similar pattern. A (supposedly) former Marxist-Leninist, she applies her cult analysis primarily to religious and right-wing groups while glossing over the coercive elements in the far-left spaces she once occupied (or still does). Her work is valuable in breaking down how high-demand groups operate, but she, too, appears to have blind spots when it comes to ideological echo chambers outside of the religious sphere. These represent a pattern rather than an isolated incident. Other platforms like (The New Evangelicals, Dr. Pete Enns (The Bible for Normal People), Eve was framed, Jesus Unfollower, Dr. Laura Anderson just to name a few.) highlight control tactics when they appear in traditional or conservative groups but fail to apply the same scrutiny to their own ideological circles.

This selective analysis creates a dangerous illusion: it allows people leaving fundamentalist religious spaces to believe they are now “free thinkers” while unknowingly adopting another rigid belief system. The deconstruction pipeline often leads former evangelicals straight into progressive activism, where purity tests, ideological loyalty, and social shaming operate just as effectively as they did in the church. The language changes: “sin” becomes “problematic,” “heresy” becomes “harmful rhetoric”, but the mechanisms remain the same.

Haidt’s work on moral foundations helps explain this phenomenon. Progressive and conservative worldviews are built on different moral intuitions, but both can be taken to extremes. The key to avoiding ideological capture is intellectual humility—the ability to recognize that no belief system has a monopoly on truth and that reason itself can be weaponized for tribalism.

John Stuart Mill warned of this centuries ago: the greatest threat to truth is not outright censorship but the cultural and social pressures that make certain ideas unspeakable. Greg Lukianoff and Jonathan Haidt’s The Coddling of the American Mind echoes this concern, showing how overprotective thinking and emotional reasoning have created a generation that confuses disagreement with harm.

Franklin O’Kanu’s concept of the “fake intellectual” is particularly relevant here—people who claim to be champions of free thought while aggressively enforcing ideological orthodoxy.

In this episode, through my experience with Brandie, I’ll illustrate how skepticism is selectively applied, and how ‘critical thinking’ communities can become just as dogmatic as the systems they reject. And unlike Hassan or Lalich, my connection with Brandie was personal. And that’s why I felt this warranted an entire podcast episode. Because what happened with her is a microcosm of a larger issue: people leaving high-control spaces only to re-enter new ones. They are convinced that this time, they’ve finally found the “truth.” Spoiler alert: that’s not how truth works.

So, let’s talk about it.


Blocked for Asking Questions

Recently, Brandie posted on Instagram about DARVO—a psychological tactic where abusers Deny, Attack, and Reverse Victim and Offender to avoid accountability. I agree that MLMs use DARVO. But I wanted to add friendly pushback, that I’ve noticed anti-MLM advocates use similar tactics to silence critics—especially when it comes to questioning the food industry— but she had turned the comments off.

So I went to Substack, wrote a note, tagged her and asked for us to have a discussion. and that’s when she blocked me. Not for being aggressive. Not for being rude. But for questioning her narrative.

So much for open conversation.

DARVO: The Classic Manipulation Tactic

DARVO stands for Deny, Attack, Reverse Victim and Offender—a tactic frequently used by abusers, cult leaders, and high-control groups when they’re called out. It flips accountability on its head, making the person asking legitimate questions seem like the aggressor while the actual manipulator plays the victim.

How MLMs Use DARVO

Multi-Level Marketing (MLM) schemes thrive on DARVO because their entire business model is built on deception. Here’s a classic example:

  1. Deny – A distributor is confronted with the fact that 99% of people in MLMs lose money. Instead of addressing the data, they deny it completely:
    “That’s just a myth! I know tons of people making six figures!”
  2. Attack – When pressed further, they go on the offensive, accusing the skeptic of being negative or jealous:
    “Wow, you’re so close-minded. No wonder you’re not successful!”
  3. Reverse Victim and Offender – Finally, they paint themselves as the victim and the questioner as the bully:
    “I’m just a woman trying to build a business and empower others. Why are you trying to tear me down?”

This tactic shuts down meaningful discussion and keeps people trapped in a system that exploits them.

Do you know what else exploits individuals? Fear and propaganda.

I saw this firsthand in a recent conversation with a friend who’s deeply entrenched in leftist ideologies and what I’d call “Trump Derangement Syndrome.” She shared a post warning people to change their bank accounts because of a false claim that Elon Musk’s staff had access to personal financial data. I pointed out that the post was misinformation, but instead of engaging with the facts, the conversation quickly shifted in a way that mirrors the DARVO tactic.

First, she denied that the post could be harmful or misleading. Then, she attacked me for not understanding the larger “fear” that people are feeling in the current political climate. Finally, she reversed the roles, casting herself as the victim of a chaotic world and me as the one creating unnecessary tension by questioning the post.

This is a textbook example of DARVO, a tactic that deflects accountability, shifts blame, and keeps people trapped in fear-driven narratives. It keeps them from having honest, fact-based conversations and prevents any real understanding of what’s going on around them.

How Brandie Used DARVO on Me

Ironically, despite being an anti-MLM advocate, Brandie used the exact same manipulation tactics when I pushed back on some of her positions. This is a woman who criticizes manipulative marketing tactics in MLMs, yet here she was, employing the very same tactics in our discussion. It’s a stark example of how these patterns can be so ingrained that even those who oppose them can fall into using them.

Deny – When I questioned her promotion of dietitians who endorse processed foods like Clif Z Bars (which recently faced a class-action lawsuit for misleading health claims), she refused to acknowledge the legitimate concerns. Instead, she dismissed it by claiming that caring about food ingredients was more stressful for the body than just eating the food itself—a false dichotomy that undermines any nuance in the conversation, especially when she often critiques the same logical fallacy in other contexts.

Attack – Rather than engaging with my points, she made it personal, implying that I was being antagonistic or bad-faith for even questioning her stance.

Reverse Victim and Offender – Finally, when I didn’t back down, she blocked me, flipping the narrative to make it seem like I was the one causing harm simply by asking questions.


When Therapy Becomes Thought Control: The Weaponization of Mental Health

What makes this dynamic even more interesting is that both my friend in Portland and Brandie, an anti-MLM advocate, are therapists. These conversations have all unfolded within a culture that professes to value feelings, emotional well-being, and mental health awareness. More people are going to therapy than ever before, and an increasing number of people are training to become therapists—mostly women. Currently, around 70-80% of psychologists and therapists are female, and those seeking help are also more likely to be female.

The field has increasingly become a vehicle for ideological activism. Dr. Roger McFillin has spoken extensively about this shift, describing how therapy now often reinforces victimhood narratives rather than fostering resilience. Instead of helping clients process experiences and build coping skills, many therapists nudge them toward predetermined ideological conclusions—especially in areas of identity, oppression, and systemic injustice.

This shift has eroded one of psychology’s most fundamental ethical principles: informed consent. Clients, particularly young and vulnerable individuals, are often funneled into ideological frameworks without realizing it. Under the guise of “affirming care” or “social justice-informed therapy,” therapists may subtly guide them toward specific worldviews rather than offering a full range of perspectives. What should be a process of self-discovery instead becomes thought reform, where questioning the prevailing narrative is framed as harmful or regressive.

Therapy is no longer just political—it has become a mechanism of enforcement. We see this in counseling programs that demand ideological conformity from students, in therapists who blur the line between clinical work and activism, and in public figures like Janja Lalich and Steven Hassan, who claim to expose undue influence while engaging in the same tactics. This is ideological gatekeeping disguised as expertise.

Rather than fostering open exploration, the field is increasingly defined by rigid dogma. Questioning the dominant ideology isn’t framed as critical thinking—it’s labeled as resistance, ignorance, or even harm. And when that happens, dissenting voices aren’t debated; they’re erased. If this trend continues, therapy won’t just be a tool for self-improvement. It will be a tool for social control. It already is.


The Hypocrisy of Selective Skepticism

Brandie and the anti-MLM crowd claim to combat misinformation, yet they overlook a significant issue: the influence of Big Food and Big Pharma on public health narratives.

On her social media story and in private conversations, Brandie has defended dietitians who actively promote ultra-processed foods. Some registered dietitians with large platforms endorse products like Hawaiian Punch and Clif Z Bars as acceptable—even healthy—options.

Clif Z Bars, for example, were recently involved in a $12 million class action settlement for falsely marketing their products as “healthy and nutritious.” These bars are 37% added sugar, essentially sugar bombs.

Yet, a dietitian Brandie supports feeds these bars to her young children, publicly calling them a “healthy snack.” Why is this not considered misinformation?

A deeper issue lies in the conflicts of interest within the nutrition field. 95% of the 2020 U.S. Dietary Guidelines Advisory Committee members had conflicts of interest with the food and pharmaceutical industries. Many had financial ties to corporations like Kellogg, Abbott, Kraft, Mead Johnson, General Mills, and Dannon. Similarly, a 2023 report by U.S. Right to Know revealed that 65% of the 2025 Dietary Guidelines Advisory Committee had high-risk or medium-risk conflicts of interest with industry actors like Novo Nordisk, the National Dairy Council, Eli Lilly, and Weight Watchers International.

Interestingly, both Clif Z Bars and Hawaiian Punch—the two foods mentioned in this discussion—are owned by Mondelēz International, a company that has faced scrutiny over its ties to government-advising scientists and other potential conflicts of interest. This raises an important question: How much of what we’re told by credentialed experts is shaped by corporate influence rather than unbiased science?

These conflicts of interest raise serious concerns about industry influence over public health recommendations. Yet, if you question this, you’re labeled anti-science.

This kind of blind faith in authority is no different from religious dogma. The pursuit of truth should always leave room for debate. This also highlights why blindly trusting “credentialed experts” is insufficient. Degrees and titles don’t guarantee that recommendations are free from corporate influence.

Rather than acknowledge these conflicts, Brandie and her followers discredit those asking valid questions, often accusing them of using the “Just Asking Questions” fallacy.

The “Just Asking Questions” Fallacy

A common tactic used to dismiss skepticism is labeling it as the “Just Asking Questions” (JAQ) fallacy. This fallacy occurs when people imply that merely questioning an issue is a form of misinformation or bad faith argumentation.

Many dietitians and anti-MLM advocates are deeply entrenched in mainstream narratives on topics like vaccine safety, climate change, and pharmaceutical efficacy. When skeptics ask pointed questions about these subjects, they are often accused of using JAQing off—a term that suggests they are sowing doubt without providing counter-evidence. The accusation assumes that asking difficult questions is inherently conspiratorial, rather than a legitimate means of inquiry.

But skepticism is not the same as denialism. Critical thinking demands that we interrogate all claims—especially those made by institutions with financial or ideological incentives. Dismissing questions outright only serves to protect entrenched power structures.


The Counterpoint: Intellectual Humility and the Dogma of Data

While it’s vital to engage critically with the information we’re presented, it’s equally crucial to consider the potential pitfalls of blind adherence to any ideology—whether it’s religious, political, or scientific. In the modern age, science and data have often become the new forms of dogma. The scientific community, which prides itself on skepticism and inquiry, is sometimes treated as an unassailable authority—leaving no room for dissent or alternative perspectives.

The worship of science and data as infallible can feel eerily similar to religious dogma. It demands conformity in the name of progress, dismisses alternative viewpoints, and often shuts down debate—all while asserting that it’s in the name of critical thinking and rationality. In this system, the pursuit of truth can ironically become an exercise in tribalism and intellectual rigidity.

What is critical to recognize is that science and reason themselves are not immune to bias, corruption, or influence. Take, for example, the “revolving door” between regulatory agencies and the pharmaceutical industry, which compromises the integrity of public health policies. This conflict of interest is a significant factor in the mistrust surrounding many mainstream health recommendations, especially when we see how corporate interests shape the outcomes of clinical trials, the approval of drugs, or public health initiatives.

Take the nutrition field, for example. The dietitian mentioned earlier endorses Clif Z Bars for her young children, but if you challenge this, you’re accused of being anti-science or fear-mongering.

Similarly, when figures like RFK Jr. highlight pharmaceutical industry ties to regulatory agencies, critics don’t engage with the data. Instead, they attempt to discredit the person asking the questions.

The Real Issue is Deception from Trusted Intuitions

The real misinformation often stems from corporate-backed institutions. Public trust in physicians and hospitals fell from 71.5% in April 2020 to 40.1% in January 2024—not due to misinformation, but because people witnessed firsthand the contradictions, shifting narratives, and financial incentives behind public health decisions. Trust is eroded by deception, not by questioning.

RFK Jr. isn’t “sowing doubt” for the sake of it. He’s pointing out documented cases where pharmaceutical companies have manipulated clinical trials, buried adverse data, and exercised significant influence over regulatory bodies. His book The Real Anthony Fauci outlines a heavily researched case against the unchecked power of Big Pharma and its ties to government agencies. If his claims were false, he would face lawsuits, yet his work continues to spark vital discussions.

True skepticism means demanding better science, not blindly trusting authority. The real danger lies in silencing those who ask critical questions.


Big Food and the Shaming of Health Advocates

A recent study has revealed something I find all too familiar: intimidation tactics used by industries like Big Tobacco, ultra-processed food companies, and alcohol sectors to bully and silence researchers, whistleblowers, and anyone challenging their agenda. This tactic—used by Big Food to discredit critics—reminds me of the way people are shamed or bullied for questioning processed foods or advocating for healthier diets. If you’ve ever pointed out the risks of sugary snacks or fast food, you’ve probably been labeled an extremist, a health-obsessed “wellness warrior,” or worse, a “purity culture” advocate. I can’t help but feel this is just another form of gaslighting, where we’re told that it’s worse to worry about the ingredients in our food than it is to consume those ingredients, even if they are known to contribute to chronic health conditions.

Ironically, this kind of manipulation is the same strategy Big Tobacco used for decades to muddy the waters around the health risks of smoking. And now, ultra-processed food companies are doing the same thing—distracting us from the very real, documented consequences of a poor diet.


Why We Need to Trust Ourselves, Not JUST the Experts

What frustrates me is how the anti-MLM community often jumps on wellness advocates who want to clean up their diets for health reasons. While I agree that MLMs are a breeding ground for manipulation, this should not mean we ignore the very real need to question the food industry’s stranglehold on our diets and health. It’s vital to recognize that not all experts have your best interests at heart. Many of the mainstream recommendations we’re told to follow come from organizations or industries with questionable motives—whether it’s Big Pharma, Big Food, or Big Tobacco. These same industries have a long history of misleading the public, and many of their experts are bought and paid for by corporate interests.

Wanting to improve your diet to manage or reverse chronic health conditions shouldn’t be dismissed as obsessive or extreme. It’s a rational, self-preserving choice that empowers you to take control of your health, even when the mainstream narrative tells you otherwise.


Is This Healing or Just Another High-Control Belief System?

Brandie often talks about “cult recovery” and the importance of psychological resilience. But is she really modeling resilience? Because true resilience isn’t about avoiding discomfort—it’s about engaging with it, questioning your own biases, and standing firm in discussions, even when they challenge your worldview.

Instead, she’s teaching people to coddle their minds. To create ideological echo chambers where questioning the “right” experts is heresy. To avoid any perspective that might cause discomfort. If she’s teaching people to avoid discomfort rather than work through it, I’m not sure how that aligns with the principles of ethical psychotherapy.

True healing requires grappling with discomfort, not running from it. When you teach people to shut down their discomfort rather than confront it, you’re not promoting growth—you’re just pushing them into another high-control belief system.

That’s not healing. That’s just another form of control.

And let’s be real—if your response to fair, thoughtful criticism is to shut down the conversation and block people who used to support you, you haven’t actually deconstructed anything. You’ve just built a new echo chamber with different branding.


The Bigger Picture

This isn’t just about Brandie. It’s about a larger pattern I see in the deconstruction and anti-MLM communities. Many of them claim to be freeing minds, but in reality, they’re just recruiting people into a different kind of ideological purity test.

The message is clear: You’re allowed to be skeptical, but only in the “approved” ways.

That’s not intellectual freedom. That’s just another cult.


Where Do We Go From Here?

We need real conversations about manipulation and misinformation—whether it comes from MLMs, Big Food, Big Pharma, or influencer dietitians who profit from pushing corporate-backed narratives. It means we need to question everything—without replacing one unquestionable authority with another. And we need to be willing to hold all forms of power accountable, not just the ones that fit neatly into our existing beliefs.

Because if we’re not careful, we’ll escape one high-control group only to fall right into another.

Sources:

Consent Isn’t Enough: The Harsh Truth About “Sex Work”

Beyond the Glamour: The Dark Reality of the Sex Industry

Welcome back to Taste of Truth Tuesdays. Today’s episode is one that I’ve both been eager and hesitant to share. While I’ve spoken about my journey through faith, fitness and personal transformation that there’s one chapter I’ve largely kept private until now….

For most of my life, I was fed a specific narrative: go to college, get a degree, build a career, and don’t worry about prioritizing marriage or family. Financial independence was the ultimate goal.

After graduating college, I moved from Virginia to Portland, Oregon, to chase my career as a personal trainer, lifestyle coach, and professional circus performer. My income relied on clientele, and while I had busy seasons, nothing was ever truly stable. But with inconsistent income and the ever-present pressure to make ends meet, I found myself in a space that many glamorize but few truly understand—the world of sugar dating.

At first, it didn’t seem that different from the casual dating I was already doing—except now, dinner was covered, and there was a financial incentive. But the deeper I got, the more I realized how unstable and unsafe it was. Most of these men didn’t care about you as a person; they just wanted no-strings-attached access to your body. And when I found myself in situations where I wasn’t in control—where boundaries were ignored, protection was negotiable, and at times, I left empty-handed even after doing my part—I started to see the cracks in the ‘empowerment’ narrative. I remember one night, sitting in my car after being verbally and physically assaulted, I realized I had no one to report it to. No way to warn the next woman. That’s when the illusion fully shattered for me.

That’s why today’s conversation is so important. I’m joined by Sloane Wilson from Exodus Cry, an organization dedicated to exposing the truth about sexual exploitation and advocating for survivors. We’re unpacking the hard truths about the sex industry, the myths that keep women trapped in it, and the cultural shifts that have normalized what should never be considered “just work.”

But we’re also diving into something deeper, faith. Both Sloane and I have gone through our own journeys of deconstruction and reconstruction. She’s seen firsthand how the church can mishandle encountering survivors and how delicate and complex these situations can be.

The Reality of “Sugar Dating”

Some nights felt harmless—like having dinner with a businessman who just wanted company and conversation. But most nights? They were anything but that. The truth is, the fantasy of sugar dating—mutually beneficial, long-term arrangements with financial stability—was just that: a fantasy. Most men weren’t offering monthly allowances or ongoing support. They wanted pay-per-meet agreements—no strings attached, no safety net, just transactional sex. And when survival depended on it, I found myself scrambling to secure the next “daddy.”

I struggled to assert myself, especially in two key areas: insisting on protection and ensuring I was paid upfront. That put me at immense risk—both for my health and my safety. One night, I was forced into acts I didn’t consent to, verbally assaulted, and then left empty-handed. Sitting in my car afterward, I realized something chilling: there was no one to report it to. No way to warn the next girl. No system to hold these men accountable.

Some men had hidden home cameras, recording our time together without my consent. Others were forceful, rough, and used sex toys in ways that crossed every boundary I had. And yet, as awful as those experiences were, I knew I was lucky—because it could have been so much worse.

Most of these men pushed to move conversations off the platform as quickly as possible, demanding explicit photos before agreeing to meet. When you’re in a financial bind, it’s hard to say no. That’s how exploitation thrives—through desperation.


The Trap of a “Luxe” Illusion

Looking back, I wonder—why didn’t I just walk away? Why couldn’t I see, from the beginning, that this wasn’t sustainable? I wasn’t like most women in the industry. I was white, college-educated, and didn’t even have student debt shackling me. My financial stress came from my own reckless spending—maxed-out credit cards and the relentless costs of bodybuilding, a sport I was pouring everything into. So why, with all the options I had, did I keep chasing this?

I think part of it was desperation. The MLM-like promise of sugar dating had me convinced that if I just worked harder, played the game right, and landed the right arrangement, I could have financial security and independence. I put more energy into curating the perfect sugar persona than I ever did into building my personal training business. And maybe, just maybe, I was chasing the mirage of someone close to me—someone who had made sugar dating “work.” I saw her succeed, and I kept believing I could, too.

But there’s another layer. One I don’t love admitting (and one my mom will absolutely deny.) My mother praised me for it. She told me, “I wish I had done this when I was your age.” That kind of validation messes with your perception of right and wrong. It made it seem like I was onto something genius, like I had cracked code other women were too scared or too moralistic to try. Was I subconsciously trying to prove something? Was I filling the void left by emotional neglect?

Or was it just my own damn fault?

That’s the thing about these choices—they never come down to just one reason. It is always more complex. It wasn’t just the financial stress. It wasn’t just my upbringing. It wasn’t just the influence of someone I admired. It was all of it, tangled together, keeping me locked in place. And it took me years to realize that no amount of effort or strategy would turn sugar dating into the safety net I desperately wanted it to be.


The Lie of “Sex Work is Work”

For a long time, I believed the mantra: “sex work is work.” It’s the rallying cry of the sex-positive movement, a phrase meant to legitimize the industry. Prostitution is often called “the oldest profession,” but historically, it has always been a last resort for survival. Women don’t enter this industry because it’s empowering. They do it because they have no better options.

The real harm in prostitution isn’t just about bad working conditions or societal stigma. It’s about dehumanization. When sex is reduced to a transaction, people become commodities. And when we treat people like products to be bought and sold, we strip them of their dignity.

Louise Perry, in The Case Against the Sexual Revolution, makes this point powerfully. She argues that the sex industry’s only real defense is a hollow, commodified version of “liberation”—one that insists, “Everyone consents, everyone is an adult, the women enjoy it, so who are you to judge?” But when consent is the only moral standard, we ignore the broader ethical issue: that people are being treated as means to an end. Consent alone does not erase coercion, exploitation, or harm.

In our postmodern culture, we’ve rejected objective morality and replaced it with a consumerist approach to sex. If both parties “agree,” then anything goes. But this is a dangerous slope—one that allows predatory men to exploit desperate women under the guise of empowerment.


Insights from Recent Research

New research exposes the blurred lines between sugar dating and traditional sex work. A study published in The Journal of Sex Research found that over one-third of sugar babies have engaged in other forms of transactional sex work, such as escorting or stripping. This challenges the narrative that sugar dating is different or “classier” than prostitution. The reality? It operates on the same fundamental exchange.

The study also found that sugar benefactors reported an average of over six arrangements, indicating a revolving door of sugar relationships. For these men, sugar dating is just another avenue for purchasing companionship and sex.

Beyond the emotional toll, sugar dating carries serious legal and personal risks. Legal experts warn that these arrangements can lead to blackmail, coercion, and threats—especially when expectations aren’t met. Many women find themselves in vulnerable situations with no real recourse. The illusion of control is just that—an illusion.


The Flawed Narrative Around Sex Work and Deconstructing Purity Culture

In the deconstruction space, there’s a growing trend of equating sexual liberation with empowerment while rejecting any critique of the sex industry as moral panic. A popular post circulating on International Sex Workers Day exemplifies this mindset, arguing that deconstructing purity culture requires deconstructing any negative views of sex work. The claim? Sex work and sex trafficking are entirely separate, and many big Christian anti-trafficking organizations wrongly conflate the two to push an agenda. The post insists that if a person is not forced, defrauded, or coerced, they are simply making a free choice to engage in sex work. But this argument is deeply flawed when examined through historical context, real-world data, and the experiences of women who have lived through it.

The Demand Problem: Why Legalizing Sex Work Doesn’t Protect Women

One of the most critical oversights in this argument is the failure to acknowledge that sex work is a demand-driven industry. As Louise Perry outlines in The Case Against the Sexual Revolution, countries that have legalized prostitution have seen an increase in trafficking. Why? Because legalizing the industry normalizes the demand for paid sex, and when there aren’t enough willing participants, traffickers step in to fill the gap. Studies show that in places like Germany and the Netherlands, where prostitution is legal, trafficking rates have skyrocketed because the market rewards pimps and exploiters. The idea that sex work can be fully separate from trafficking ignores the economic reality that supply follows demand.

Linda Lovelace’s experience in Deep Throat is a perfect example of this. The film was a massive success, grossing over $600 million, and was hailed as revolutionary at the time. But years later, Lovelace revealed that she had been coerced into performing in the film under violent and abusive conditions. Her book Ordeal exposed the hidden abuse within the industry—an industry that thrives precisely because there is a market for extreme, degrading content. This isn’t an isolated case; countless women have echoed similar stories after leaving the industry, only to be dismissed while they were still in it because they were expected to uphold the “liberation” narrative.

The Exploitation Behind the Industry

Another major flaw in the sex-work-as-liberation argument is the lack of accountability within the industry itself. MindGeek, the corporation behind the world’s largest pornography sites, has faced multiple civil lawsuits for monetizing non-consensual content—including child sexual abuse, rape, revenge pornography, and voyeuristic recordings of women showering. Reports from December 2020 revealed that the platform was infested with videos depicting abuse and that it profited from some of the darkest corners of human sexuality.

The industry thrives on the illusion that all participants are willing, yet it repeatedly fails to ensure consent. The reality is that the vast majority of those in sex work come from backgrounds of financial instability, trauma, or coercion—not from an empowered, freely chosen career path. The notion that sex work is “just another job” ignores how uniquely dangerous, exploitative, and often inescapable it can be.

The Broader Issue: Normalizing Harm Under the Guise of Liberation

This same pattern of dismissing harm under the banner of liberation isn’t exclusive to the sex industry. I recently came across another example in the deconstruction space where an account that advocates for women’s sexual empowerment was documenting her abortion experience on National Abortion Day. She filmed herself taking the abortion pill as if it were nothing—a casual, almost celebratory act. But this kind of messaging erases the medical realities and risks associated with the abortion pill. It ignores the fact that women absolutely should get an ultrasound before taking it to determine gestational age and rule out ectopic pregnancy, which can be fatal if left untreated. Reducing such a serious medical decision to a political performance trivializes the real consequences that many women face.

This connects back to the issue with sex work: the rush to de-stigmatize everything labeled as “empowerment” often leads to a dangerous lack of critical thought. If deconstruction is about questioning harmful narratives, then why aren’t we allowed to question the harm within the sex industry? Why does rejecting purity culture mean embracing an industry that, time and time again, has been built on coercion, abuse, and exploitation?

Deconstructing purity culture shouldn’t mean abandoning discernment. If anything, it should mean taking an even closer look at these industries and asking hard questions about who truly benefits from them. Because when we actually listen to the stories of women who have left sex work, the pattern is clear: what is sold as empowerment often turns out to be exploitation in disguise.

Healing & Advocacy

Looking back, my perspective has completely shifted. The journey out of the sex industry has been long and complicated, but I’m grateful for the clarity I have now. Organizations like Exodus Cry work to expose the realities of the commercial sex trade and fight for real change. And voices like Louise Perry’s are crucial in dismantling the harmful myths that keep this industry alive.

The sexual revolution promised liberation, but for many women, it delivered exploitation instead. The more we normalize the commodification of sex, the more we enable the very systems that harm us. It’s time to rethink everything we’ve been told about “sex work” and start asking: Who really benefits from this industry? Because it’s certainly not the women inside it.

If you’ve ever questioned the narrative around sex work, if you’ve been curious about the reality behind sugar dating, or if you want to hear from someone who’s been there—I invite you to tune in.

It’s time to move beyond the glamour and face the truth.

Resources:

The Wounds We Don’t See: Betrayal, Recovery and Rebuilding Trust

Healing After Religious Abuse: A Conversation with Connie A. Baker

Religious abuse can leave deep scars—ones that don’t just fade with time but require intentional healing. In this week’s conversation, I sat down with Connie A. Baker, author of Traumatized by Religious Abuse, for an honest and heartfelt discussion about the journey of healing from spiritual trauma. Connie shares her own experiences, the painful realities of the “second wound,” and how survivors can reclaim their emotional autonomy after years of manipulation and control.

Why Healing Can’t Be Rushed

One of the most profound takeaways from our conversation was the reminder that healing isn’t something to bulldoze through. Connie calls herself a “recovering bulldozer,” always pushing to move forward as quickly as possible. But in trauma recovery, speed can be counterproductive. She embraces the mantra, slow is steady, and steady is fast. For survivors, learning to slow down and allow healing to unfold naturally is essential. Trying to rush past the pain often leads to setbacks, while true recovery requires patience, self-compassion, and time.

The Second Wound: Betrayal After Speaking Out

Connie describes how only 25% of the damage she endured came from the abuse itself—the remaining 75% came from the judgment, rejection, and betrayal she faced when she spoke out. This “second wound” is a devastating reality for many survivors who expect support but instead encounter disbelief, gaslighting, or outright hostility.

I resonated deeply with this. When I began speaking about my own experiences within the church, I was met with accusations of backsliding, manipulation, and spiritual rebellion. Survivors already carry the weight of their trauma, and the added burden of social ostracization can feel insurmountable.

So how do we heal from this betrayal? Connie shares practical steps, including:

  • Finding safe, validating spaces where your story is heard and honored.
  • Understanding that others’ disbelief or discomfort does not negate your truth.
  • Developing strong boundaries to protect yourself from further harm.

Naming Abuse and Embracing Spectrum Thinking

One of the most insidious aspects of religious abuse is the difficulty of naming it. Many survivors downplay their experiences, believing that if they weren’t physically harmed, it “wasn’t that bad.” But Connie emphasizes that minimizing abuse hinders healing.

Abuse exists on a spectrum—from coercive control and emotional manipulation to outright physical harm. Recognizing where an experience falls on that spectrum is crucial for understanding the impact and taking steps toward recovery. This applies beyond religion too—cults, MLMs, and even rigid ideological movements can exhibit the same coercive tactics found in high-control religious environments.

Developing spectrum thinking—moving away from rigid “all or nothing” perspectives—allows survivors to see the full picture. Instead of thinking, “I was never physically hurt, so it wasn’t abuse,” they can acknowledge, “This environment manipulated me, eroded my self-trust, and controlled my emotions. That was harmful.”

Reclaiming Emotional Autonomy

Spiritual abuse often hinges on emotional suppression. Survivors are told that negative emotions—anger, sadness, fear—are sinful or a sign of weak faith. Verses like “Rejoice in the Lord always” and “Be anxious for nothing” are weaponized to shame people into emotional denial.

But emotions provide vital information. Anger tells us when our boundaries have been crossed. Sadness signals loss and the need for healing. Anxiety can be a survival mechanism. Connie reminds us that full wisdom comes from embracing the entire spectrum of human emotions.

Learning to trust yourself again after years of emotional control is no small feat. Some practical steps include:

  • Allowing yourself to feel emotions without labeling them as good or bad.
  • Recognizing when religious conditioning is silencing your true feelings.
  • Using anger constructively—to set boundaries rather than self-destruct.

Wrestling with Worldview: From Spiritual to Materialist and Back Again

Many survivors of religious abuse go through a radical shift in their worldview. Some reject spirituality entirely, embracing a materialist perspective where only the tangible world is real. Others swing to the opposite extreme, seeking comfort in rigid new belief systems.

Connie highlights that this spectrum—from deeply spiritual to strictly materialist—is something many survivors navigate as they attempt to make sense of their experiences. Some turn to hedonism—“Eat, drink, and be merry”—while others find meaning in service, activism, or intellectual pursuits. What matters most isn’t where someone lands on the spectrum but rather the process of wrestling with meaning, truth, and autonomy after religious trauma.

Final Thoughts

Healing from religious abuse is not linear. It’s messy, painful, and often isolating. But as Connie’s journey shows, it’s possible. By embracing the full range of emotions, setting firm boundaries, and recognizing abuse for what it is, survivors can reclaim their autonomy and rebuild a life of freedom and self-trust.

If you’re in the midst of this journey, know that you are not alone. Whether you’re deconstructing, reconstructing, or simply trying to make sense of it all, your experiences are valid. And healing—real, lasting healing—is possible.

What part of this conversation resonated most with you? Drop a comment and let’s keep the discussion going.

And as always: Maintain your curiosity, embrace skepticism, and keep tuning in! 🎙️🔒

Resources:

Reclaiming Critical Thinking in an Age of Narrative Warfare

How Media Manipulation and Pseudo-Intellectualism Are Undermining Independent Thought

In today’s episode of Taste of Truth Tuesdays, I sit down with Franklin O’Kanu, also known as The Alchemik Pharmacist, to unpack one of the most pressing issues of our time: the erosion of critical thinking. Franklin, founder of Unorthodoxy, brings a unique perspective that bridges science, spirituality, and philosophy. Together, we explore how media narratives, pseudo-intellectualism, and societal conditioning have trained people to ignore their inner “Divine BS meter” and simply accept what they’re told.

The Death of Critical Thinking

As Franklin points out, we’ve lost the ability to thoughtfully absorb and analyze information. The past few years have conditioned individuals to disregard anything that doesn’t align with mainstream sources, experts, or consensus. Instead of engaging with information critically, many have been taught to dismiss it outright. The result? A culture that values conformity over curiosity and blind acceptance over intellectual rigor.

We discuss how this shift has been accelerated by media bombardment, especially during the pandemic. The New York Times even published an article on critical thinking, but instead of encouraging intellectual engagement, it suggested that questioning mainstream narratives is dangerous. This is narrative warfare at its finest—manipulating public perception to ensure that only “approved” ideas are given legitimacy.

The Power of Narratives: How Ideological Echo Chambers Shape Reality

Franklin O’Kanu often cites James Corbett’s work on media’s role in shaping public perception as a major inspiration behind his Substack. Corbett’s central thesis is simple: narratives build realities—and whoever controls the dominant narrative controls public thought. Nowhere is this clearer than in the nihilistic messaging that dominates left-leaning social media platforms like Meta. The idea that humans are an irredeemable blight on the planet has been mainstreamed, despite evidence to the contrary.

This same unquestioning adherence to an ideological narrative played out during the pandemic with phrases like “Trust the science” and “Don’t do your own research.” I explored this trend in my Substack, particularly through the lens of so-called ‘cult expert’ Steven Hassan. Hassan built his career exposing ideological manipulation, branding himself as the foremost authority on cult mind control. But here’s the irony: while he calls out high-control religious groups, he seems completely blind to the cult-like tactics within his own political ideology.

Information Control: Censoring ‘Dangerous’ Ideas

Hassan’s BITE model—which stands for Behavior, Information, Thought, and Emotional control—is designed to help people recognize manipulation.

In cults, leaders dictate what information followers can access. The extreme left does the same.

  • Censorship of Opposing Views – Deplatforming, banning books, firing professors—if an idea threatens the ideology, it’s labeled “harmful” and shut down.
  • Historical Revisionism – Complex events are reframed to fit simplistic oppression narratives, ignoring inconvenient facts.
  • Selective Science – Only research that supports the ideology gets funding and visibility. Studies on biological sex differences, IQ variations, or alternative climate models? Silenced or retracted—not because they’re disproven, but because they’re inconvenient.
  • Discouraging Exposure to Counterarguments – Followers are taught that listening to the other side is “platforming hate” or “giving oxygen to fascism.”

This is exactly what happened when Franklin challenged the mainstream climate change narrative. The moment he questioned NetZero policies, he wasn’t just hit with the usual accusations: “climate denier,” “science denier,” and the ever-expanding list of ideological insults meant to discredit rather than debate, but he was blocked. This is how bad ideas survive—by shutting down the people who challenge them.

Franklin warns that if you’re not careful, these narratives can take you down a dark rabbit hole built on lies. Once an ideological framework is built around selective truth, it becomes a self-reinforcing system—one that punishes dissent and rewards conformity. And once you let someone else dictate what information is “safe” for you to consume, you’re already in the first stages of ideological capture.

The Rise of the Fake Intellectual

Platforms like Facebook/Instagram/YouTube have perfected the illusion of intellectual discourse while actively suppressing opposing voices. This has led to what Franklin calls the fake intellectual—individuals or organizations that present themselves as champions of knowledge but ultimately serve to shut down real dialogue.

Fake intellectuals don’t invite discussion; they police it. They rely on appeals to authority, groupthink, and censorship to maintain an illusion of correctness. True intellectualism, on the other hand, is rooted in curiosity, openness, and the willingness to engage with challenging perspectives.

Reclaiming Intellectual Integrity

One of the most powerful insights from our discussion is the role belief plays in shaping our world. Franklin warns that when we accept narratives without scrutiny, we risk being deceived. This applies across industries—medicine, science, finance, and even religion. These systems function because people believe in them, often without verifying their claims. But if we fail to question these narratives, we become passive participants in a game where only a select few control the rules.

So, how do we resist narrative warfare and reclaim critical thinking? Franklin suggests:

  • Cultivating intellectual humility—being open to the possibility that we might be wrong.
  • Recognizing media manipulation—understanding how information is curated to shape public perception.
  • Engaging with diverse perspectives—actively seeking out voices that challenge our beliefs.
  • Trusting our own discernment—developing the confidence to think independently instead of outsourcing our opinions to authority figures.

Franklin expands on this in his writings, particularly in his two articles, How to See the World and How to Train Your Mind. As he puts it, “We all have these voices in our heads. Philosophy is really just understanding the reality of the world, and there’s a principle in philosophy—keep things as simple as possible.” He breaks it down like this:

  • You are a soul. That’s the foundation. If every child grew up knowing this, it would change the way we see ourselves.
  • You have a body. Your body exists to experience the physical reality of the world.
  • You have a mind. Your mind is an information processor that collects input from your senses. But it also generates thoughts—sometimes helpful, sometimes misleading.

Franklin uses a simple example: Is my craving for ice cream coming from my body, my mind, or my soul? That question highlights the need to discern where our impulses originate. He extends this concept to online interactions: How many thoughts do we have just from seeing something online? How many narratives do we construct before our soul even has a chance to process reality?

Online spaces, Franklin argues, give rise to what he calls the “inner troll.”🧌 He connects this to the spiritual concept of demons—forces that seek to provoke, enrage, and divide. “Think about the term ‘troll,’” he says. “What is that, really? It’s an inner demon that gets let loose online. The internet makes it easy for our worst instincts to take over.”

So, what’s the antidote? Franklin emphasizes the importance of the pause. Before reacting to something online, before getting swept into outrage, take a step back. Ask: What is happening here? What am I feeling? Is this a real threat, or is my mind generating a reaction?

“It’s extremely hard to do online,” Franklin admits. “But when we practice stepping back, we can respond more humanely—more divinely. That’s the key to reclaiming critical thinking in a world that thrives on emotional manipulation.”

The digital age bombards us with narratives designed to capture our attention, manipulate our emotions, and direct our beliefs. But we are not powerless.

On an episode last season, we discussed a concept I learned from Dr. Greg Karris—something he calls narcissistic rage in fundamentalist ideologies. It helped me understand why people react so viscerally when their beliefs are challenged. My friend Jay described a similar idea as emotional hijacks, tying it to the amygdala’s response. This concept also appears in Emotional Intelligence 2.0 by Daniel Goleman and is expanded upon in Pete Walker’s Complex PTSD.

When the amygdala gets triggered—exactly what Franklin was describing—we have to learn to recognize the physical sensations that come with it. Elevated heart rate. Sweaty palms. That’s your body sounding the alarm. But in that moment, your prefrontal cortex—the part responsible for logic and rational thinking—is offline. Your biology is overriding your soul’s intention. And that’s why taking a step back is so crucial.

The best way to get your higher reasoning back online? Create space. Pause. Let the emotional surge settle before you engage. As simple as it sounds, it’s one of the hardest things to do. But in a world where reactionary thinking is the default, practicing this skill is an act of rebellion—and a path to reclaiming our intellectual and emotional sovereignty.


Next, Franklin and I dive into a pressing issue: The Coddling of the Mind in society—a theme I’ve explored numerous times on the podcast and in my blogs. Franklin brings up a fascinating point, saying, “One thing that’s happened with COVID, though it started before, is the softening of humanity. We’ve become so soft that you can’t say anything anymore. And what that’s done is pushed away true intellectual rigor. We used to be able to sit and share ideas, but now we’re obsessed with safe spaces. And this started on college campuses.”

Franklin’s observation taps into a broader cultural shift that has eroded the foundations of intellectual engagement. In the past, people could engage in discussions where the goal wasn’t necessarily to convince others, but to explore ideas, challenge assumptions, and learn. The push for safe spaces—often an attempt to shield individuals from discomfort or offense—has inadvertently led to the silencing of open debate. In this environment, people have become more focused on avoiding offense than on confronting difficult ideas or engaging in intellectual rigor. This dynamic, Franklin argues, has stripped away the very essence of what it means to debate, discuss, and learn.

This idea echoes themes explored in Gad Saad’s The Parasitic Mind, where Saad delves into how certain ideologies undermine intellectual diversity and critical thinking. Franklin builds on this, urging that true intellectual growth comes from understanding where someone is coming from, even if their views differ from your own. “Learn what happened to individuals to understand how they arrived at their conclusions,” he says. “Remove personal bias and avoid attacks. Only then can you critique the point effectively, offering counterpoints that strengthen both arguments and allow experiences from both sides to shine.” This approach, Franklin explains, fosters a more nuanced understanding of each other’s perspectives, allowing both sides to learn and grow rather than simply entrenched in opposing views.

This fragility encourages echo chambers and groupthink, where dissent is silenced, and alternative perspectives are rejected outright. Ironically, in the pursuit of empathy, freedom, and inclusivity, movements like deconstruction can end up mirroring the same intellectual and moral rigidity they sought to escape.

I could continue typing out the entire conversation, or you could just listen. 🙂

In an age where the appearance of truth is often prioritized over truth itself, our ability to think critically is more important than ever. This episode is an invitation to break free from intellectual complacency and reclaim the power of questioning.


Article mentioned in the interview:

Why Challenging Beliefs Feels Like a Personal Attack—And Why It Shouldn’t

From religion to politics, why deeply held beliefs trigger defensiveness, outrage, and even hostility—and how we can foster better conversations.

We all have seen how the internet seems to bring out everyone’s inner troll. 🧌

The moment a deeply held belief—whether religious or political—is questioned, people lash out with hostility, aggression, or outright rage. Why does this happen? Why do some people react as if their very identity is under attack?

This past summer, we sat down with Dr. Mark Gregory Karris to explore religious trauma, belief deconstruction, and the psychological grip of fundamentalist ideology.

This season on Taste of Truth, we have been expanding the conversation—because this isn’t just about religion. Political ideologies, social movements, and even scientific debates can trigger the same defensive responses.

Fundamentalist thinking—whether in religion or politics—creates a fear-driven, us-vs-them mentality.

At its most basic, the allure of fundamentalism, whether religious or ideological, liberal or conservative, is that it provides an appealing order to things that are actually disorderly. -Peter Mountford

This hits at something crucial that I’ve written about numerous times before: the human brain craves order, even in the face of chaos. The illusion of control is a powerful psychological driver, and our brains reward it with dopamine. Fundamentalist thinking offers a structured, black-and-white framework that feels safe and predictable, making it incredibly appealing—especially in times of uncertainty. It’s why people cling even harder to rigid beliefs when they feel threatened. Whether in faith or politics, the need for certainty can override openness to new information, leading to the defensive reactions we see when those beliefs are questioned.

The moment someone questions the “truth,” it’s perceived as an existential threat, triggering anxiety, cognitive dissonance, and sometimes outright hostility.

Take a look at the patterns:

  • Verbal Attacks: When someone questions a core belief, the response can be insults, shouting, or belittling. For example, in religious circles, someone questioning doctrine might be labeled a heretic, while in political spaces, dissenters might be called traitors or bigots.
  • Social Ostracism: In both fundamentalist religious and political groups, those who challenge the status quo risk being shunned, excommunicated, or “canceled.” A former churchgoer who deconstructs their faith may be cut off from their community, just as someone who questions ideological orthodoxy in politics might lose social standing, friendships, or even career opportunities.
  • Online Harassment: Social media amplifies these reactions. Question a sacred political narrative? Expect dogpiling. Challenge a religious doctrine? Brace yourself for moral outrage. The internet rewards ideological purity and punishes deviation.
  • Physical Aggression: In extreme cases, questioning or challenging deeply held beliefs can escalate to threats or violence. History is littered with examples—holy wars, political purges, ideological revolutions—all stemming from the belief that certain ideas must be defended at any cost.

This isn’t just about bad behavior—it’s about psychology. When beliefs become intertwined with identity, disagreement feels like a personal attack. Fundamentalist teachings—whether religious or ideological—reinforce this by instilling fear of deviation:

  1. Fear of Deviation – Straying from the accepted belief system is framed as dangerous, whether it’s framed as spiritual damnation or societal collapse.
  2. Cognitive Dissonance – Encountering opposing viewpoints creates internal discomfort, making people double down rather than reconsider.
  3. Fear of Consequences – Whether it’s eternal hellfire or being cast out by one’s political tribe, the cost of questioning is framed as too high.
  4. Identity Threat – When beliefs define self-worth, changing one’s mind feels like losing a part of oneself.
  5. Social Pressure – Communities reinforce conformity, and breaking from the group’s ideology invites punishment.

When Morality Binds and Blinds

In The Righteous Mind, Jonathan Haidt explains how moral systems don’t just guide our sense of right and wrong—they also bind us to our tribes and blind us to opposing perspectives. Morality evolved not just to help individuals make ethical choices but to reinforce group cohesion. When we share a moral framework with others, it strengthens social bonds and builds trust. But there’s a cost: once we’re deeply embedded in a moral community—whether religious, political, or ideological—we stop seeing outside perspectives clearly.

This is why people react with such hostility when their beliefs are challenged. They aren’t just defending a set of ideas; they’re defending their sense of identity, belonging, and moral righteousness. A challenge to the belief feels like a challenge to the self—and to the entire group they’re part of.

This also explains why fundamentalist thinking isn’t confined to religion. Political movements, activist groups, and even secular ideologies can exhibit the same rigid certainty, group loyalty, and hostility toward outsiders. The more a belief system becomes tied to identity, the more resistant it is to change—and the more aggressive the response when it’s questioned.

The antidote? Intellectual humility. The ability to recognize that our beliefs, no matter how deeply held, might be flawed. That truth-seeking requires engaging with discomfort. That real conversations happen not when we dig in our heels but when we’re willing to ask, What if I’m wrong?

These dynamics explain why deconstruction—whether of faith or political ideology—often leads to intense backlash. It also reminds me of our conversation with Neil Van Leeuwen, author of Religion as Make-Believe. He pointed out that factual beliefs thrive on evidence, but religious and ideological beliefs function differently. When a belief becomes part of group identity, truth often takes a backseat. In fact, sometimes falsehoods serve the group better because they reinforce belonging.

To close down the conversation, let’s talk about healthy communities—whether religious, political, or social—embrace intellectual humility. Here’s what that looks like:

  • Open Dialogue: Encouraging respectful conversations where differing perspectives are explored rather than attacked.
  • Supportive Community: Allowing for questions, doubts, and evolving beliefs without fear of punishment.
  • Personal Reflection: Cultivating a mindset that prioritizes growth over ideological purity.
  • Interdisciplinary Engagement: Seeking insights from multiple fields rather than reinforcing an echo chamber.

By recognizing these patterns, we can navigate our own beliefs with more self-awareness and engage in discussions that foster curiosity rather than hostility. The question isn’t whether we hold tightly to certain beliefs—it’s whether we’re willing to interrogate why.

So, what’s one belief you’ve held onto tightly that you later questioned?

Let’s talk about it in the comments.