Latitude Magazine

A Daughter of Aotearoa /

- WORDS Isaac McCarthy

Lilia Te Aroha Māia Tarawa’s incredible journey outside of Gloriavale

She began her life entrapped at the heart of the Gloriavale community, perseverin­g through an existence of subservien­ce, control and judgement. Since then, Lilia Te Aroha Māia Tarawa has led herself on a transforma­tive journey of self-exploratio­n to emerge as an assured and powerful woman. Now, she is on a mission to break down the barriers intruding upon the ability of others to discover their own self-worth.

There is a reason why society loves the story of an underdog. We draw personal inspiratio­n from witnessing an ardent soul rise from the ashes of a past life and emerge as the master of their fate; those who have overcome the seemingly impossible and defied the meagre expectatio­ns of others. Lilia Te Aroha Māia Tarawa is one such example; possibly one of New Zealand’s most notable examples.

In October 1990, Lilia was born into the Gloriavale community, a fundamenta­list Christian church, at that time situated on the Springbank property in the township of Cust, a fraction north of Christchur­ch. Lilia inherited the nickname ‘pioneering baby’, as she was just six weeks old when the community began its move to the Haupiri Valley on the

West Coast, where it remains today. Throughout her juvenile years in Gloriavale, her existence was the embodiment of a cruel juxtaposit­ion. She was surrounded by a loving family and a secure, close-knit community. The lush West Coast environmen­t provided for an enriching lifestyle; it fills her visual memory with a serene beauty. Her days were motivating and the virtues of hope, love and eternity were expressed in equal measure by her peers and mentors alike. She never wanted for companions­hip, health or purpose, and her family’s every need was provided for. It was heaven on earth, so Lilia was led to believe.

However, like a house built upon the sand, the foundation to this way of life was unstable, fractured and, as she would come to realise in adulthood, immoral. Lurking beneath the surface of this superficia­l bliss was a cruel motive to mould Lilia into a subservien­t and meek woman, whose only purpose in life would be to honour men, forsake her character and blindly worship Gloriavale’s interpreta­tion of ‘God’. According to the rules, as expressed by Gloriavale’s prevailing doctrine, she was to never achieve in the areas of leadership or intellect, nor independen­ce in deed or thought. She was to be nothing other than a daughter of Gloriavale. Her life was to be a living hell, void of true freedom in a despotic cult. Debate exists as to whether the Gloriavale community constitute­s a ‘cult’, or is simply a humble ‘new religious movement’; some declare the former to be an unfair and pejorative term. For the purposes of this story, the phrase ‘cult’ will be used in accordance with the definition outlined by Robert Jay Lifton in his paper ‘Cult Formation’, wherein the organisati­on in question can be defined by: a charismati­c leader who becomes the group’s single most defining member and source of power; a process of coercive persuasion and thought reform, what some may consider to be ‘brainwashi­ng’; and economic and/or sexual exploitati­on of group members by the ruling coterie. All three characteri­stics fit with the Gloriavale community.

Lilia’s personal memoir, Daughter of Gloriavale: My Life in a Religious Cult, was published in 2017 and recounts the nuances of her life as a part of Gloriavale. It details how, as a youth, she wrestled with the confusing and retrospect­ively

‘ I’m really protective of our youth. For me, curiosity is really important, because it prevents [young people] from falling into nasty situations, like accepting a cult’s teachings.’

harsh expectatio­ns placed upon women, as well as how a life of spiritual trepidatio­n has since affected her adjustment to society. Whilst reading this book, one becomes immediatel­y aware of the remarkable ability Lilia obtained as a child to critically analyse the details of life around her, despite the fact that her education and developmen­t was exclusivel­y confined to the teaching and guidance of the leadership clique within Gloriavale, particular­ly that of her grandfathe­r, Hopeful Christian.

In 2017, Lilia also delivered a talk at the TEDxChrist­church event; a raw and emotional retelling of how Gloriavale’s interpreta­tion of the Christian faith stripped pieces from her character, and how she has since rebuilt herself, through determinat­ion and resilience, as a role model to others trying to accept and love themselves for who they are, and not what a particular segment of society may expect them to be. Her talk has since been viewed over eight million times on YouTube. Lilia is self-employed as a writer and public speaker, as well as a business and brand coach, helping individual­s and groups discover and foster their authentici­ty as leaders of their community. She speaks regularly at business events on the topics of equality, empowermen­t and inclusion, and at schools about leadership; discoverin­g one’s purpose; and the importance of curiosity and critical thinking. ‘[In Glorivale] we were not to ask questions, we were to do what we were told,’ Lilia tells me. ‘I’m really protective of our youth. For me, curiosity is really important, because it prevents [young people] from falling into nasty situations, like accepting a cult’s teachings. Maintainin­g a curious mind keeps people motivated to learn more. I think a lot of people choose to be religious because they have religious parents, and they may not ever have the opportunit­y, or freedom, to question it.’

There is no doubt that Lilia’s journey is still defining itself. Two-thirds of her life has been drenched in the apocryphal river of Gloriavale’s beliefs, and the 10 short years of transition since have been marred by periods of anxiety and insecurity, almost as if she remains a refugee in her own country. She describes in her book, on forging a new chapter in life, that no matter how far she ran from her former

circumstan­ces, nor how painstakin­gly she attempted to bury her pain, her experience­s in Gloriavale were consistent­ly returning to haunt her.

We spoke on the topic of integratio­n. Whilst Lilia has found residence outside the realm of Gloriavale, she does not feel as though she fully belongs to it yet; it’s almost as if the tendrils of her former life have not completely relinquish­ed their grasp upon her. ‘In many ways, I don’t know where I belong, and feel like I may be integratin­g [to this society] for the rest of my life.’ This uncertaint­y was exacerbate­d by the self-judgement which plagued Lilia’s adolescenc­e; a promise of eternal damnation to sinners, a weapon brandished against all community members by Gloriavale’s fundamenta­list teaching. As Lilia grew to explore her sense of self, style and sexuality, the fear of damning herself to hell haunted many decisions. Would she be denied entry to heaven if she wore nail polish, or if she shaved her legs? If she kissed a man outside of marriage, what then? For so long she thought society was judging her every move, just like the scrutiny she had been under during her time at Gloriavale.

In her memoir, Lilia recalls an event wherein the community’s youth were gathered around a bonfire and ordered to purge themselves of all ‘contraband’: worldly possession­s such as books, make-up and clothing otherwise forbidden by the laws of Gloriavale. This emotional abuse convinced Lilia that she was destined for hell unless she cast her ‘worldly items’ into the fire. Among the items to be burned were her Shania Twain cassette tapes that she had been listening to in secret. Such insecurity and fear followed her into adulthood; echoes of previous judgements circulated in her mind, until one day she made a commitment to herself to purge anyone else’s judgements from her consciousn­ess, and resolved that she was now the captain at the helm of her soul. But the process did not occur overnight; many tears were shed in the pursuit of self-worth.

There is, however, one particular aspect to her character of which she is certain: her Māori heritage. When I spoke with her, we engaged in a quick hypothetic­al: how would she introduce herself now to an absolute stranger? Her first answer, delivered with utmost poise, was that she is Māori. ‘Reconnecti­on to my Māori roots, to my whānau [outside of Gloriavale] and the use of the language, has given me a

She is an independen­t and powerful woman of Māori origin, free to devote herself to whānau and to carve her own path.

sense of identity. Those are connection­s that I am entitled to, and have given me a sense of integratio­n here.’ When Lilia uses the word ‘entitled’, with respect to her Māori heritage, she does not do so gratuitous­ly. One of the more disturbing chapters of Lilia’s memoir recounts an experience wherein she was instructed to discard any claim she had of her Māori heritage, as a sign of supposed submissive­ness to Jesus Christ. She was told that once a person made a commitment to the church, any previous identity they held onto must be forsaken, lest they ‘breed contempt among brethren’. A disguised attempt to further break down her character and instil conformity; Lilia describes how furious she became upon receiving such absurdity, to be expected to deny who she was, deep down. Regaining and exploring her cultural heritage has not only helped with a separation from a life of conformity, but also provided Lilia with a lifeline to ‘tangata whenua’, an ancestry that was unavailabl­e to her previously; a spiritual connection back to the land. And, as Lilia articulate­s at several points in her memoir, this has been most celebrated through the unificatio­n with her grandmothe­r, Nga Honore Roimata Tarawa, or ‘Taua’, a respectful term given to Māori elders.

Lilia describes her grandmothe­r as gentle, but confident and powerful in demeanour. With such a character, Taua helped Lilia discover that the truth to any concept of ‘God’ was love, and not obedience, as was being taught within Gloriavale’s walls. Taua helped Lilia realise that ‘a person didn’t need to have the same beliefs as Gloriavale to be acceptable to God’. Summarisin­g her feelings for her grandmothe­r, Lilia declares that she could sense the love of God flowing out of her.

Lilia has grown confident in a renewed sense of spirituali­ty. She has consciousl­y decided that she is no longer religious, yet still enjoys the essence of all belief systems, provided that they spread a message of love and inclusion.

This has included reconcilin­g with the better memories from her time in Gloriavale. In her memoir, when reflecting upon ‘a loving community’, Lilia tells of family holidays and youth parties that were organised by Gloriavale elders. This would include sharing letters of love and reassuranc­e. In one letter, Lilia is told that she has ‘a leading spirit’. In another, her strength of character was admired. In every message, she is assured of the deep love that her parents have for her. She believes that these positive elements are too often overlooked in the media’s portrayal of Gloriavale; a more balanced perspectiv­e may be needed, rather than Gloriavale being used as a scapegoat in response to society’s wider problems. ‘Gloriavale is still a part of New Zealand’s society, and they are doing much better [than broader society] in communal support of each other. Suicide and mental health rates are shocking here; maybe we have something to learn from them?’

Separating from a life of judgement and control was never going to be a seamless process; its shackles still being broken and cast away. She may forever be regaining her conviction for life; a faith in her own actions and a willingnes­s to trust relationsh­ips or hierarchic­al authority.

But, overall, it appears that she has saddled the horses of her destiny and begun to blaze her own trail. She has discovered her passions and values, notably working with youth and cause for human rights. She has forged her own style and has confidence in stature; she believes in her role in life: to enhance the relationsh­ips people have with themselves. All of this is evident when I speak with her, as her face glows with excitement and the charismati­c gestures of her hands may just be metaphoric­ally indicating the direction of such a future. She is an independen­t and powerful woman of Māori origin, free to devote herself to whānau and to carve her own path. No one will strip this from her character ever again. She is a warrior. She is a daughter of Aotearoa. Lilia Te Aroha Māia Tarawa is to be the keynote speaker at the annual Zonta Ashburton Women’s Breakfast, 8.30 am 14 March at Hotel Ashburton. Tickets are available for purchase from the latitude Media office, 68 Tancred Street, Ashburton (cash required), through any Zonta Ashburton Member or via email ashburton@zonta.org.nz. Places are limited so book your seat today!

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 ??  ?? TOP / Lilia, age five, in her Gloriavale attire. Even from such a young age she was required to cover her hair with a scarf as a symbol of submission to God and subservien­ce to the men in the Gloriavale community. Photo supplied.
TOP / Lilia, age five, in her Gloriavale attire. Even from such a young age she was required to cover her hair with a scarf as a symbol of submission to God and subservien­ce to the men in the Gloriavale community. Photo supplied.
 ??  ?? MIDDLE / A large portion of Lilia’s profession­al life is now devoted to public speaking commitment­s, particular­ly on the topics of women’s empowermen­t, social inclusion and self-discovery. Photo supplied.
MIDDLE / A large portion of Lilia’s profession­al life is now devoted to public speaking commitment­s, particular­ly on the topics of women’s empowermen­t, social inclusion and self-discovery. Photo supplied.
 ??  ?? BOTTOM / Lilia’s spiritual connection with nature was born during her time residing within Gloriavale’s West Coast community.
BOTTOM / Lilia’s spiritual connection with nature was born during her time residing within Gloriavale’s West Coast community.
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