Sometimes I look back on this memory and cringe as I reminisce on it: the individual who originally brought me around extremism when I was younger once told me, “No more thinking for yourself. Ask me about anything before you say or do it”. This felt very restrictive and controlling at the time (and it was); however, because I felt I needed to rely on external sources for a sense of safety, I was willing to accept it as an 18-year-old living on the streets of Toronto.

There are many less-than-fond memories of him and others from the network as I look back on that time, but I can’t ignore that I depended on them for a sense of security, long before my time in extremism. The first memories that come to mind are from grade 1, when I was friends with someone else in my class who used to boss me around; one day, she yelled at me in front of the entire class, “Lauren, get over here and sit beside me now!” She clearly had some serious behavioral issues, and my parents told me on several occasions that she wasn’t a very good friend for me; however, at the time, she was the only friend I had. Being around her somehow felt safer than being alone at school, and to say that I feared being alone was an understatement.

Friends came and went over the years, as they do for most of us. I had some good experiences with classmates and some I would rather forget; however, one thing remained consistent with me: the need for others around me, so I didn’t have to deal with myself. I have ADHD, and part of having a brain wired like this is something referred to as rejection sensitivity dysphoria. While, as a 35-year-old, I’m much better at handling it now, when I was a kid, I would self-destruct after any real or perceived instance of rejection. Not to mention that a connection with others is a basic human need, diagnosis or not. 

Fast forward to when I was finishing high school and became involved with extremism. I was memorizing the rhetoric, and I can see now that repeated messages with the theme of fear and othering can very easily embed themselves into someone’s day-to-day life. I can remember a couple of occasions when I went out in public with others to hand out propaganda, and let's just say we received some less than favourable reactions (and rightfully so). The way I processed these reactions from others at the time would have gone something to the effect of “this is proof that they are against us”, adding to my fear of anyone outside the group. It’s interesting for me to see now that this is actually a very isolating tactic where younger recruits are sent out, and reactions from the public act as proof to them that they aren’t accepted by the rest of society.

I can also recall several times when I would get into debates with others (online and in person) and eventually find myself shoving rhetoric down people’s throats, using their arguments against them, and generally being very forceful about my position. I had a few thoughts at the time in which I was engaging in this behavior, the most notable being “I need to verbally take them down to prove myself right. I realize how juvenile this sounds, but more importantly, it’s painfully obvious that I didn't feel safe around others I perceived as different from me.

Being the defiant little asshole that I was at the time, I started arguing with and mocking other group members when I was in my mid- 20’s as I began noticing that the group, which I called my safe haven, was actually one of the sources of harm in my life. If I were to list off every event that proved this reality to me, we would be here all day, but I will state that around this time, I finally had a breakthrough moment where I told myself that “maybe I was better off alone than around people who had ludicrous and restrictive expectations of me”. I was burned out from constantly being on the defensive for no valid reason, and I can just imagine the damage I did to my nervous system. While I can say that routine felt safe at one time (even if it was toxic), at this point, I felt I had nothing to lose by leaving everything I knew for 8 years behind.  

I began doing EMDR therapy years later; the acronym stands for eye movement desensitization and re-processing. One of the first sessions my therapist and I did used the butterfly tapping method to consolidate positive memories from my past. I remember telling her at first, “Hey, this is fun, but what’s the idea behind it?” She described it as “internal safety,” where good memories and the associated feelings are a place for the individual to return to. One such memory was of being 15 years old, up to bat in one of my team’s playoff baseball games. I hit the ball far into the outfield, won the game for us, and I remember running the bases while hearing my dad yelling, “Pretend you’re running from the cops!” from the bleachers. It is even funnier because he served on the police force for 30 years before passing away. My therapist almost face-planted at her desk from laughing at this and said, “Only you and your crazy family!” I tried not to laugh too much as I followed her instruction to sit with the encouraging feeling and tap it through to consolidate it. I can see that while my dad provided encouragement (even if it was a bit off the rails), I also hit the ball that far into the outfield myself; no one helped me do that. This piece isn’t to say that I’m better off without anyone else. I’m simply reflecting that my sense of safety must come from me, regardless of whether others are around.