What family tradition got your parents life sentences when you casually mentioned it at school?

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In my family, we had "spiritual bonding" ceremonies where adults would pick children as young as 16 to be their "study partners" or "mentorship companions."

I'm talking about actual ceremonies with rings, vows, and private quarters in our compound.

We called it "preparing for adult responsibilities," and I genuinely thought every religious family did this until I was 15 and mentioned it to my school counselor.

The rules were simple: when you turned 16, the elders would choose your "spiritual guide" from the adult members. Could be your uncle, family friend, or even your sister's husband.

My cousin Sarah got paired with Brother Marcus when she was 9. She had to live in his cabin and "practice household duties" for two years.

My brother David was chosen by Sister Ruth at age 16. He had to call her "mentor" and stay in her quarters every night.

When kids came back from their "spiritual training," they were different. Quieter. They'd flinch.

We called it being "spiritually mature." The community would celebrate with feasts and gifts.

"See how enlightened you've become?" they'd say.

And honestly, we believed them. We thought we were learning sacred adult responsibilities.

I got my first "assignment" at age 16 to Brother Paul, who was 34. Three months of "spiritual lessons" in his private room.

When it ended, I knew exactly how to "obey" without question.

The system worked—or so I thought.

But my little sister Lily was different. She was only 13 but looked older, and Brother James kept requesting her early.

"She's ready for intensive guidance," he'd say.

At age 7, she got her first "dedication ceremony."

When she came back after two weeks, she wasn't eating anymore.

They paired her again three months later with Elder Thompson for "extended mentoring." This time: a full month.

When she came back, she had bruises on her wrists and wouldn't let anyone touch her.

The third time, she was "assigned" to Brother James for two months.

When they finally brought her back, she was like a broken doll.

Here's the crazy part: we were living in rural Montana the whole time. Isolated compound. Fifty families—all following the same "traditions."

The elders told us that outside families just didn't understand sacred preparation.

"The world has forgotten God's true way," Prophet Samuel would say.

Everything changed when I was 16, and Lily, now 14, tried to harm herself.

Our teacher, Miss Chen, noticed the cuts on Lily's arms during our weekly "outside school" day.

Lily, in her broken way, told her about the private quarters—where children go to practice being obedient.

Miss Chen called the FBI that same day.

When the agents came to our compound, the elders were calm and confident.

"It's religious freedom," they said. "These are sacred ceremonies."

But the agents asked to see the assignment records anyway.

The moment they saw those documents—dozens of "pairings" between adults and children dating back decades—their faces went stone cold.

They immediately called in backup.

Within two hours, our compound was surrounded by FBI, state police, and child protective services.

Prophet Samuel got life without parole. Twelve other adults got 20+ years each.

Lily spent three years in specialized therapy, learning to trust again.

I still have nightmares about those ceremony rooms.

But here's what really messes with my head:

For years, I actually thought I was lucky to be chosen. I believed I was special—blessed by God himself.