Spiritual abuse and codependence, part 4: Delusions of inclusion

A few weeks after inviting me to join the organization Sage had just joined, Sage announced that the spiritually stunted leadership of the (recently ideal) organization had sadly deceived and then unjustly excluded Sage. The organization was now revealed to have been evil, but the Source had used it to bring Sage to the start of a new adventure: Sage wanted to start a new organization with me as second-in-command. I accepted the invitation, thinking that we’d talk things over, come to shared decisions, and put things together over a timeline of several months to a couple of years. Sage talked constantly about collaboration, consensus, and the importance of being on the same page, and I knew these things took time.

I was, therefore, a little shocked when Sage announced almost immediately that we had a website, an e-mail list, a blog, and plans to go on national TV as soon as Sage could make the connections. I discovered that Sage, who had initially objected to linking “our” group with certain other groups, was now going to work closely with those groups, which I did not feel were legitimate. I wanted a slow start, fiscal accountability, a structure that would make us a legally recognized organization, and a set of documents spelling out our positions and organizational structure. Sage didn’t have time for that: it would have to come later. We were a name, fewer than a dozen people, and a Web presence, and Sage was focused on talk shows, magazine articles, books, and all the honor and recognition Sage had always deserved.

I began to realize that Sage was calling me the second-in-command but was making all the decisions without any input from me. I tried to discuss that in our hours-long daily phone calls, but couldn’t get a word in edgewise: although Sage was always saying they couldn’t wait to “hear my input,” our phone calls were monologues in which Sage told me what was going on and demanded my praise. The first time I raised a timid objection to a course of action, I heard, “But I’m doing all this for YOU!” I answered immediately that I didn’t want anything done “for me” without my input or consent, and that Sage should do what was right for Sage. I explained that I, as co-leader, needed to express my concerns, so we could reach a collaborative consensus.

Shortly thereafter, the tantrums began.