What my family’s life in a cult has taught me about everything going on in politics

When I started on the UK comedy scene, we were told to write about the events that had impacted our lives. Essentially, the subtext was that we needed to think about what made us unique - our USP, so to speak - and use that to write our first flawless (or not) five minutes of standup.

My first 'tight' five was about my mum, who, frankly, I believed was the most interesting thing about me. You see, a thing about my mum that you would never know if you met her is that she grew up in and later escaped a dangerous Christian cult.

As my career progressed and I wrote more and more material, I kept coming back to the theme of cults. At the time, I thought I must be desperately clinging to the most exciting thing I could find that made me not just another blonde female comedian in their 30s with ADHD. I’d be the cult girl. However, the debut show that surfaced out of that time wasn’t a biography of my mum’s life, but an observation of the world I was in and the culty behaviour I’d come across again and again from normal people.

I’ve had such a strong reaction to manipulative behaviour and controlling group dynamics for as long as I can remember, and I know it all came from being my mother’s daughter. At 16, she had the strength to walk away from the only world she’d ever known, whilst countless adults stayed put in their dogmatic world.

I tell a story in the show about the group dynamics at school and how the girls I met were so incredibly cruel to one another because the world had told us all that we needed to form groups and compete in order to get through life.

I look at the countless answers we’re offered on social media, on both sides of the coin, where every loose ideology, breathing exercise or recipe for protein-heavy sourdough brunch is deemed the solution to most, if not all, of our problems.

I look at how, in a world where religion has taken a backseat, we often don’t know what the rules are anymore because so many of us have essentially destroyed them in our own minds - whether that be the Ten Commandments or otherwise. We’ve gone out into the unknown to find nothing but utter uncertainty. It’s the trickier route, and it requires us to question everything we’ve ever been told in order to settle in a place where our morals feel right to us, at least.

I had a friend growing up who’d been brought up vegetarian and a strict Christian. When she got to 16, she started partying and experimenting; she even tried salami. Her intentions weren’t to hurt her family. It was just a natural process: to take ownership of your own decisions and delve into the belief systems you’ve been taught. In the end, my friend emerged with more understanding of her own convictions; some remained steadfast, and some had altered. My religious friends have these conversations with themselves on a regular basis.

Challenging yourself in this way throughout your life is a good thing. The problem comes when the uncertainty is too much. Things aren’t going well in our lives or in the world, and we start to panic about our purpose. That’s when we become the ideal victim of cult mentality. Amidst the chaos, someone comes along and offers us answers, and we lap them up.

This might be anything from Cadey Heron in Mean Girls being so lost in a new school that she accepts the self-imposed rules of a powerful clique to wellness influencers telling us that gluten is the cause of all our emotional and physical worries and if we just follow these rules (and download their app) we’ll feel better; to people like Andrew Tate, Elon Musk, and even Joe Rogan filling the void for a lost generation of young men who are being told by a loud majority that they are the problem, leaving them with no one else to look up to.

The problem happens when we stop questioning our convictions and stop having conversations because we’re too scared that our side will reject our point of view and, in doing so, reject us. When everything is so polarised in our camp that there’s no room for diversity of opinion and when we’re being told, ‘You’re allowed to join us, but you can’t disagree with us’, where does that leave us?

It leaves us where a universally acknowledged incompetent world leader is shutting down health initiatives, destroying the rights of minorities and vulnerable people, and deliberately tanking the economy so his rich friends can benefit - and his followers (who benefit the least) are saying nothing.

It leaves us with political landscapes where constituents are growing more and more angry at whoever their ‘leaders’ are pointing the finger at, with the ‘us VS them’ narrative taking over.

It puts us in a world where people who have found their way out of a dogmatic political mindset are reaching out to friends who still feel that way, and using the same tactics to pull them out that professional crisis teams use when trying to help cult members trapped in life-threatening situations.

We need to open our minds to the fact that conversations that are hard to have are the most important ones to instigate, we need to stop being afraid to simply disagree with each other on one thing and agree on the next, and we need to start with the people around us who we disagree with and really listen to what they have to say, as well as telling them what we think.

Also, in the name of balance, it’s lovely to do it weekly or even daily, and it’s certainly helped me with my back problems; yoga is great. And I know your yoga teacher/favourite influencer is really charming and says wise things that make you feel seen and safe - and by all means, buy their book - but please remember that aside from breathing and maybe where to get the best kale, they aren’t the answer to all your questions. And unless they also have a degree in international politics, they probably aren’t equipped to endorse politicians either.

Oh and come see my show (it’s on tour!). Info here.