Nat, Stephen, and Wendy.
This is Nat’s full journal of her time at The Ranch, A Madrone Cult Story – with pictures. It’s long but worth the read. She does a good job 0f describing the subtle messaging and red flags she encountered along the way and how it affected her. Below is an excerpt and her conclusion after leaving. ~ Christine
Carol and I talked about the weird stuff that had been happening to us. It was so strange, it was like we were both thinking the other was happy here and not talking about the weird things that the group members were doing to us together and separately. We talked about how there were no blinds in the bathroom and in our room, how we had both asked to live in the shaque for privacy but were denied, how Carol had gone to use the restroom and gone in when becca came out but found cedric in the bathroom on the toilet, how she had seen cedric skinny dipping in the creek, how weirdly mean they were to her but not to me, how strange the kitchen was, how weird it was we didn’t get any off days, how no one in the group reacted to pain, how only we were not allowed to pet mac, and how becca was all over me. It was the first time we had talked about how we really felt about our time at the house, and it felt so nice to confide in Carol and see that we had very similar experiences and had been gaslit by the house into thinking it was normal. Carol told me there was another wwoofer before me and before the fire that was 19 and how David and Stephen had flirted with her and how this girl and Stephen had gone down to the creek together at 10pm and how the wwoofer had camped down there and Stephen had come back to the house at 1am. It’s cold at night, and the creek is freezing during the day. Overall, even after this, Carol and I both were unsure about leaving. It felt like we were doing something wrong even considering leaving, how it would let the group down, how they may try to talk us out of it if we told them. We felt trapped, but not all from external force. I really wanted to believe it was all a lie, when I was around the group it seemed so incredibly normal. I wanted to believe they really were just a group of friends. I had joked about the place being a sex group with my friends but I didn’t believe it, I just thought they had lived on the ranch outside of society for so long that they just didn’t act normal anymore. I really wanted to believe that true, non-cult communes do exist, because I want to live in one one day. Carol said that she didn’t want to leave because she was losing weight, which was one of her goals, and she had already had a bad experience at another farm and wanted to continue her adventure away from home without going home early again. We decided that we shouldn’t leave each other alone, whatever we end up deciding to do.
Nat outside her curtainless bedroom window at The Ranch.
The window to the left of the front door was the bedroom Nat and Carol shared at The Ranch.
(Final Thoughts) October 6th 2022
The dress Nat was “encouraged” to wear
Today is October 6th, which has a lot of somber importance to me. Today would be the day I was leaving the group. Obviously, that didn’t happen, but I can’t imagine what would be going on in my head right now had I stayed. 12 days in and I was already having a lot of guilt about leaving and craving their acceptance. After 5 full weeks, who knows? Maybe they would have convinced me it was all a misunderstanding, maybe I would have been coerced into joining. I have a hard time feeling sorry for myself since nothing really did happen, but I feel a pang of sadness for the version of me in another universe that didn’t. Maybe her car broke down, or Carol (not her real name) never showed up, or a member of the group had become a better friend than had happened to me, or they could have stopped us from leaving entirely.
Carol, Sheri, and Nat
I put a lot of emphasis on feeling fine soon after leaving, but the truth is it bothers me subconsciously a lot. Will I ever get over it? Will the distrust of the world stay with me? Maybe writing every single detail down hasn’t been the best for my mental health. I’m worried that if I don’t then I’ll block out all of the memories. I worry I won’t be able to do something with this story or be able to actually take them down. Because that’s the goal here: get them taken down. And I don’t think that just taking them off of the websites is enough. I think I need a bigger platform to tell people how it goes down and show them that it can happen to you. I didn’t ever think that I could be tricked by a cult. I really have the RJ website to thank for making me really really question what was going on around me. I feel bad about how naïve I was, how looking back I really did have all of the evidence I needed to believe it, but I still didn’t really see it. Because the truth is, even though I was texting my friends oh it’s a sex group hahahaha, I didn’t actually believe it. Sure, I had questions, but I love drama. I love drama. I want people to ask me about it. I really really thought that it was just a friend group for a while with a bunch of clues that didn’t mean anything. Maybe a poly group, or a group that just likes orgies. I blamed a lot of the touchiness on my own craving for closeness, and how I would want to hug my friends if I didn’t have a partner. I didn’t actually think downstairs was a sex dungeon. I really didn’t, even though that’s what I was joking about. Because who really can admit that they traveled thousands of miles to live with a group and have it turn out to be a cult.
I also still feel bad for maybe blowing this out of proportion. Was it really all that bad if I didn’t have anything happen to me? I doubt my life was ever really in danger, even if it felt like it was. I don’t think they would have killed me, or that they will come after me for going public with the story.
I still have lingering questions too. How did they originally get enough money to pay for the properties? Are the people there really happy or are they victims too? How many Woofers have they taken advantage of? Why wouldn’t M*****a talk to me? Do they know that I know? Why not just be forward about it – I imagine some people would be interested – why do they prey on those who don’t know – do they like it more when they “corrupt” someone?
All I know is that everyone I tell is shocked by the story, and you know what, it’s my story to tell. So I’m telling it.
Nat
Nat’s journal – A Madrone Cult Story – with pictures
