How had this happened? How had my perspective changed so much in such a short amount of time, from an obedient follower who instinctively suppressed doubts to a malcontent who just couldn’t leave well enough alone? I had spent endless hours racking my brain for clues, tracking the changes in my perspective over time, and I found myself returning again and again to Twitter and to my complicated friendship with David—the source of my first conscious disagreement with one of Westboro’s doctrines. I had reflexively suppressed it, but it had come rushing back the day that I first considered leaving
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