The world of patriarchal cults can seem distant—something we might glimpse on reality TV or through shocking news headlines. But the stories of women who have lived through it are all too real. In Tia Levings’ haunting memoir A Well Trained Wife, which I devoured in just a few days (read my review here), she lays bare the brutal truths of life inside a fundamentalist Christian marriage. Women are conditioned to submit, bear as many children as possible, and endure in silence, all under the guise of religious devotion. As social media trends like #tradwife romanticise traditional gender roles, Tia’s story is a sobering reminder of the sinister realities behind the façade. Her lyrical prose pulls you in, while the painful and powerful content of her story grips you to the end.
I had the privilege of speaking with Tia about her journey from oppression to freedom, her hopes for raising awareness, and the deep complexities of leaving such communities. Here’s what she had to say.
Congratulations on your memoir, A Well-Trained Wife, how’re you feeling now that it’s out in the world?
It’s been everything I dreamed it would be and more. Most remarkable is the open horizon I feel in my mind, knowing so many others are collectively reading my work at one time, standing with me in those rooms where I once felt so alone.
After living such a tumultuous early adulthood and working through so much trauma how did you decide to share your story with the world?
As a writer, I always wanted to get my work out in the world. But telling my personal story became the focus when I realized the world I’d escaped was strengthening and moving into the mainstream. I felt a responsibility to speak up about what it’s really like to live that way because fundamentalists don’t advertise with results—they sell glossed-up promises and ideals.
You share a bit about your upbringing and how your parents joined the First Baptist Church in Jacksonville, Florida, because they wanted to give you a ‘protected childhood’, were your family as strict as the teachings?
Not at all. In a very GenX fashion, my parents put us on the path to encounter good resources and then went back to work. Church seemed safe and busy; my sister and I would have a sheltered social life and learn about God. FBC also heavily marketed their ministries to parents, promising to turn out good kids as long as parents would get them to church several times a week. It looked wholesome and we seemed happy; the stricter teachings were still covert during those years.
You got married at 19 years old and immediately realised you were in an incredibly abusive relationship, can you explain to those who aren’t familiar with cults, why it’s so hard to ‘just leave’?
The isolation process is so subtle you almost don’t realize it’s happening. Then one day you wake up and realize there’s no one to talk to, no one to ask. We didn’t have a lot of language back then for what I was experiencing, either. I didn’t know how to call what was happening to me “abuse,” and I thought cults were like Jim Jones with Kool-aid in the jungle. I never would’ve called my faith group a cult. Without a broader worldview, critical thinking, resources and education, or advocates reaching a hand, the onus is on the victim to somehow objectively realize they need help. That doesn’t work.
What were some of the most challenging aspects of raising your children within a high-control religion, and how did you manage to maintain a sense of normalcy or stability for them?
It was actually easier in the early years because the lines were so firm and clear. The harder years were after our escape, when I had to simultaneously heal, grapple with trauma (mine and theirs), navigate our new life and relationships, and learn to parent without fundamentalist strictures.
What was the most surprising or unexpected aspect of writing A Well-Trained Wife, and how did the process of writing impact your own healing journey?
By far it was how much perspective I gained by getting the facts down on the page. Being able to get a clouded, jumbled experience out of my head and onto the page, put the scene in sequence, consider the contributing factors and characters, and truly realize my order in the place of things (especially age and time period) was freeing. Not only did the trauma no longer need to stay in my body to preserve a record of wrongs, but it was able to make something with it. The writing process empowered me on every level.
Can you talk about the role of faith in your life now? How has your understanding of spirituality evolved?
I like to say that today, I’m spiritually private. I draw this boundary as a gift to younger me, who never got the chance to privately figure out what she thought about life, the world, and God. She was tasked with something too large for her five-year-old shoulders: decide once and for all what her faith tradition would be. There’s really not another area I can think of where we hold adults to a coerced prayer they recited in early childhood! But also, remaining spiritually private allows me to avoid fundamentalist binaries, fixed positions that violate the fluid nature of belief and wonder, and the temptation to people-please and satisfy whomever is asking.
In light of the Duggar family’s downfall, how do you think organisations like the IBLP will adapt their strategies to attract and recruit new members? Or are we seeing the end of these cults?
They already have. Today’s trad wife movement is a reincarnation of the Duggar empire. The IBLP is thriving in the UK and Australia. The Heritage Foundation has a structure in place if the Republicans win and push Project 2025 through. Fundamentalism will always thrive in chaotic cultures that crave order and control. People want to be happy and feel belonging; cults offer a path to that and unless we learn what signs to look for, we’re vulnerable to the shined up marketing and soothing promises.
How can we as a society effectively shine a light on cults and their harmful practices, while raising awareness and supporting those affected?
I think we have to keep telling and amplifying survivor stories. When it’s someone’s lived experience, it’s harder to deny than accusation. This happened. This is who did it. This is how that practice worked out for me. Sharing doesn’t have to be elaborate, just authentic and honest.
What’s next for Tia and when can we read more of your beautiful writing?
I’m working on my second book—The Soul of Healing: A Survivor’s Guide to Recovery after Religious Trauma. It comes out early 2026. I’m also continuing to deconstruct fundamentalism in our headlines, culture, and recovery journey through my substack, The Anti-Fundamentalist (tialevings.substack.com). There’s never a shortage for social media content, and my future plans include writing fiction and perhaps TV.
