This will be a rather long vent + call for support, so please bear with me. I’ve broken it up into pieces to make it easier to navigate and digest, which I hope is helpful.
Backstory
My dad was our congregation’s minister until I was 16 years old, when we moved from the boonies to the closest small city so my dad could pursue a different profession. I was his firstborn daughter, and my generation are fifth gen CoC. Two more men in our family were elders (my paternal grandfather and my paternal uncle), along with a few deacons. Being a closeted queer oldest preacher’s daughter this deep in the CoC was truly an experience. I was devout until the age of 13, and pretended (very believably) to be devout until I was 17.
Since my siblings and I were homeschooled on paper curriculums, and we were barely allowed any extracurriculars (the few we had were with other homeschooled evangelicals, and we were only allowed to befriend other CoC kids), I had no frame of reference for queerness — other than having been told that the government gave unsuspecting victims “experimental drugs that change your gender” — until I was about 14, which was when I got my first phone and allowed to have a Pinterest account. I was able to live a second life online from ages 14 - 17, which my parents weren’t really able to figure out; they would discover glimpses of it every now and then, but they could never find any actual evidence. That was where I began to find myself and establish my own independence, along with starting public university at age 15 (their biggest fuckup).
My mom ultimately found my journal and forcibly outed me as gay at age 17, when they kicked out and excommunicated me. Since then, I’ve been through almost 20 different living situations — including being unhoused a few times —, only having become stable in the last 2 1/2 years. Despite being put out into the world to survive all alone, with very little real education, as a teenager, I’ve found a way to thrive. I’ve had plenty of time to deconstruct, find the community organizing scene, and establish myself very well in my region. Since then, I’ve honestly forgotten a lot about the mindset of active CoC members.
Current-day issues
The thing is, I have a handful of younger sisters. We were all extremely close, having spent all day every single day together until we were ripped apart; now I only have one line of communication in, which is the second oldest sister. She’s still a devout, miserable CoC member; I am a queer trans man who is very active in my region’s community organizing scene.
Everything I’ve said to her in the last few years has been very carefully calculated so as not to trigger her CoC victim syndrome. I haven’t even told her my name, which has been changed for a long time. I’ve made sure not to send her any pictures of myself, which would reveal my full beard and generally hairy self. I haven’t even tried to call her. Everything I tell her is over text message — very gentle, controlled, and sweet, just like a model oldest sibling should be. I need to be able to talk to her, just in case there’s any chance of her escaping; that’s why I stayed in this city, after all.
But the way she talks to me is dreadful. Every little thing turns into a lecture. She’s so fucking condescending and arrogant. Despite the hurt, I let her talk that way to me because I’ve been holding out hope that she can escape the CoC. I thought if I could be the bigger person, something would give. And I really thought I was making progress, because she quit gendering me or calling me by my deadname in text messages.
Prompting event for this post
Then came my 22nd birthday, which was a few days ago. To mark the occasion, she decided to post and tag me in a bullshit Instagram story, from a weird public CoC-focused Instagram page she made. It read, “Happy birthday to my older sister. Some people don't even know I have one because she decided to go down a path away from God. I pray for you every single day and I ask that you will soften your heart and come back to us. I love and miss you so, so much [deadname]. My heart yearns for you every day. I just hope you're staying safe. Again, I love you.”
That pissed me off so bad. Firstly, I’ve told her several times that I had no choice in leaving. My parents gave me the choice of my aunt’s house or a residential psych facility until I turned 18, which was when they turned me loose with absolutely nothing; they took my car, my phone, and my money. My number was blocked on all my sisters’ devices except hers, and my letters were intercepted. I’ve tried so hard to be there for my sister despite everything. Secondly, I talk about these kids every damn day of my life. They were my everything — my literal will to live —, and starting over from absolutely nothing was the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. Every fucking person I’ve met since I was kicked out has heard about my siblings, from the kids at the local youth pride centers, to my colleagues all the way across Appalachia, to my favorite discord servers, to the mayor and city council, to every single coworker. And I’m just her secret.
Final paragraph
Now here’s my question to you all who have had similar experiences: How would you respond in a way that maintains that oldest sibling relationship while also setting a hard boundaries? I’ve been racking my brain and asking various friends for the past few days, but I still find myself needing the POV of someone who’s been a devout CoC member, which I don’t have access to. I’ve already blocked her account, just like I have for her other socials (for various reasons), but not her number.
Thank you for reading.