Looking back on my years in OI, I feel a deep sadness. I joined with genuine hope — believing I could make a meaningful difference for God. I was led to believe I had a special calling on my life and was persuaded that my previous church lacked authenticity and spiritual depth. I accepted the rhetoric, drawn in by a community that was warm, welcoming, and unlike the traditional churches I had known.

OI didn’t just offer sermons — it offered connection. There were social events, retreats, and dinner parties. The group felt alive, vibrant, and inclusive. Prophecies emerged from within, often affirming how uniquely chosen our Leader was. We were told that, throughout history, God had been disappointed by the Church — but we were the exception. We were “the ones He had been searching for.” We were “married to Jesus.” I felt honoured to be a part of something that seemed so extraordinary, and I made friendships that I’ll always treasure.

But then, things began to shift.

The saying “Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely” proved painfully true. The leaders were given unchecked authority over people’s lives. Public meetings often featured a “hot seat,” where individuals were interrogated and pressured about personal struggles or supposed flaws. Boundaries blurred. People became overly entangled in one another’s lives. Independent thought was discouraged; we were told our own perspectives couldn’t be trusted and that we needed the group to interpret truth for us.

This culture of “purity” and control eroded relationships. Some were told they didn’t measure up and were asked to leave — all under the banner of “tough love.” Many lost their sense of self.

Eventually, I chose to leave.

My spirit had become so worn down, so battered, that I could no longer believe in what OI claimed to be. The spiritual abuse, the enmeshment, and the constant pressure to conform became too much. It’s only after stepping away that I could see the insularity of it all — the bubble that prevents real clarity until you’re outside of it.

Leaving was painful. So is looking back. But reclaiming my sense of self, and my faith on my own terms, has been a step toward healing.