Nine years ago, Theophila Pratt was forced out of Gloriavale, away from her family, and left at a bus stop to fend for herself. Now, she’s written a book about growing up in the secretive community and the process of re-entering into society as a young woman. She talks to Capsule about the emotional trauma of growing up in Gloriavale, discovering her enthusiasm for pop culture and why her upbringing means she’d ‘rather have dogs than children.’
“People have this perception that you don’t know about the world,” says Theophila Pratt, about the common misconceptions that follow those who, like her, left Gloriavale. “I’ve found that a lot – even since writing my book – that people don’t expect me to be full on, or have an opinion, or ask questions. They expect me just to say yes to a lot of things.”
“I’ve found that frustrating – like, there’s a reason I’m not in there anymore!”
The weekend before her chat with Capsule marks nine years since Theophilia left the secretive Gloriavale community – forced to leave after bucking the system one too many times, she was dropped at a bus stop at just 18 years old and left to fend for herself.
Her latest book describes all of this. Unveiled: A Story of Surviving Gloriavale is a richly observed tale of growing up in a controlled environment. Or another way to put that is that the devil really is in the details of Gloriavale; those inside it live a completely separate life to the rest of Aotearoa. Their days of the week are different to ours, they follow a different calendar. They work long, arduous hours and the purpose of women is to have as many children as possible.
The ultimate goal – taught to children from a very young age – is to get into heaven, so any discomfort or suffering while on earth doesn’t matter, as long as you’re behaving. This blanket rule has been used to perpetuate a multitude of sins in Gloriavale – the workplace exploitation legal case, and allegations of generational sexual abuse. It’s used to justify the sheer physical and mental exhaustion of following harsh rules, from when you are a young child, until you die. One of the most devastating sentences from Theo’s description of her childhood simply reads: “At Gloriavale, we were not allowed to have imaginations.”
Coming out of the community and spending almost a decade as an adult means that Theo has unlearned most of the dogma she grew up with – but the impact remains. “What doesn’t leave you is the trauma, and the triggers, so you’re always living with that. But in terms of life stuff, life is life now. Like, I feel like I fit in!”
The process of writing the book was a fast one, Theo says. It took her just six weeks to get it out. Her outside life now is very different – she’s qualified as an occupational therapist, she owns her own home, she has a partner. But the story of her upbringing – including her own experience of abuse – sat very close to the surface of her skin.
“I wanted to write it down to record it. And for people who are helping others leave Gloriavale, I thought it would be helpful for them as well.” Once it was written, she says, “It was a massive weight off my shoulders.”
One of the most surprising parts of the book is how aware those are on the inside are of what is said about them. Gloriavale is so isolated, it’s easy to slip into the belief – as Theo says above – that they don’t really know what’s happening. But they absolutely do.
The levels of mistrust within the community are so high, there is no-one to really talk to about any doubts – like those living under a dictatorship, it is too dangerous to be honest. That’s a hard environment to live in as a teenage girl, a time of life when you start to question everything. “What we were told was ‘if you were born back in the day, you would have been stoned to death for being disobedient or questioning,’” Theo says. “And then in some ways, that either then makes you question more – or it shuts you down completely.”
For such heavy and traumatic content, Unveiled is also shot through with levity – once out of Gloriavale and staying with a family, Theo buys her first bra, tries her first Coca Cola – not a fan – and speed learns her way through pop culture, which was extremely fun, she says. Fashion as a form of expression has been a lasting source of delight for her – “because I didn’t grow up following trends, it’s made me more adventurous in what I wear. I’ll give anything a go.”
But mostly, she says, she’s grateful she gets to try anything new at all. “Every day I’m grateful for choices. And although choices are hard, they’re something that a lot of people don’t have. Having my home where I safe, and having a place to call home, is so huge for me.”
At 27, Theo is approaching the time of life where, as a person with a biological clock, the decision of whether or not to have a child is in the future. As you would imagine, growing up in a community where child-bearing was seen as the singularly most important thing a woman could do – and having 5-10 child was common – she has some pretty strong feelings about this.
“I’m definitely not in a rush to have kids,” she says dryly. “It definitely put me off having kids, and I say to my mum, ‘You don’t need to have more grandchildren, you’ve got over 40 of them. I would like to maybe have a couple, but two is definitely enough.” She laughs. “I’d rather have dogs than children.”
