Behind The Veil: The “cloistered” life of Carmelite nun Sister Charlotte



As a young Roman Catholic girl who was deeply conditioned by the religion of my father, of course I “went to church on Sunday.” Not because, like Katarina, my young, also recovering-Catholic housemate, “I would meet my friends there,” but because if I didn’t I would go to hell.

I just listened to an audio of a supposed “ex-nun” who managed, after 22 years, to leave her cloistered order of Carmelite nuns. This “convent” (read: secret sex slave prison, with medieval tortures in dungeons that remind me of Guantanamo or Abu Ghraib) was? is? located somewhere “1000 miles away” from her parents. U.S.? Canada? She is dead now, born in 1889, died in 1983. Seems to have left the cloister in her thirties, but I’m not sure she left the nuns, because late in the first tape (there are two) she mentions being part of an “open order,” working as a nurse.

In any case, it’s obvious that though she managed to detonate the tight conceptual helmet constructed around her head as a young girl who wanted to join the convent, she never did take off the slightly larger, more invisible one that infects most of (not just Catholic) society in the west: the religion of the “personal creator god that stands outside creation.” Nor did she leave the rest of Catholicism behind. Or the Bible. She says that the young nuns were not educated to know the story of Jesus or the Bible, but just to be aware of god’s rules in the Catechism and sworn to the three vows of “poverty, chastity and obedience.”

She entered the novitiate at 16. (Or was it 13, I can’t bear to rewind and listen again). When it came time for her to be initiated into her cloistered vows, at 21 years of age, she was then taken to a room with a priest, who invited her into “the wedding chamber.” She refused, shocked. (But not for long. The poor and scarce food the nuns received guaranteed that their bodies would become weak and broken, unable to resist.)

Here’s how that little piece of mind control worked: the Mother Superior told her that the priest didn’t have a body like mortal men. That he was “the holy ghost,” who would impregnate her as the “bride of Christ.”

Of course, there were many babies born of rapes by (always drunk) priests in cahoots with the Mother Superior. She would suffocate them and throw their bodies into “the lime pit.”

What strikes me about Sister Charlotte’s story is 1) how she had two helmets on, one inside the other; and 2) how gradually tightening mind control works, especially on young minds.

I did google “Sister Charlotte’s testimony,” and found several posts that try to debunk it. She speaks in such a rapid impassioned manner, that she is either utterly insane (and incredibly imaginative), or dead-on genuine. I think the latter.

I mention a few threads of this literally godawful story, just in case you don’t want to gag your own way through it — but appreciate the information, even so. Given that celebrity Saint (oops, Pope) Francis has just managed to bedazzle what appears to be most of the American public, or at least the MSM media, it is time we recognize that these stories of sex-slavery and murder by the Roman Catholic male hierarchy are not that anomalous. Missionary Schools, Boys Town, for starters, and now, at least one cloistered convent.

How utterly removed from the magnificent nuns I met at the Sisters of Earth conference! I wonder what they could tell me about cloistered convents. Has anything changed? How would we know?

via philosophers-stone





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0 Responses to Behind The Veil: The “cloistered” life of Carmelite nun Sister Charlotte

  1. Christine Marais says:

    Hello Ann,

    I first listened to Sr. Charlotte’s testimony 6 or 7 years ago and have revisited it a few times since. That very first time, I knew I was hearing the truth, the same truth my grandmother had tried to tell us about her own childhood in an orphanage in Brittany, where she entered at the age of 5 and never left until she was placed by the nuns, at 16, as a maid (she was never paid: the orphanage received her salary until she married) in the farm of a rich and devout Catholic family from Normandy, a few hundred miles away. My grandma, herself born in 1905, was 48 when I was born and she was never, ever a “normal” grandma, like my friends’. She spoke as fast as Sr. Charlotte and she was constantly terrified. She had been thoroughly and systematically brainwashed to the point where she could NOT stay away from the Catholic church, was going to mass every morning a 6:00 am (lest she and all of us would perish in hell), had no common sense, needed her rosary to function and would pray to specific saints for every situation she encountered. St Anthony of Padua when she had misplaced something, St Christopher when she was to travel, St Luke when she needed a doctor and the list goes on. She was very, very marginally intelligent, and very robotic in her life, always startled, always fearful and at times very mean. We, her grandchildren, used to laugh at how “deranged” she was. We were cruel but ignorant: she was, indeed, deranged.

    I too am convinced that Sr. Charlotte endured what she did and a lot more. One does not speak as she did, so out of balance, so desperate to get the message out, almost incoherently, with such an urgency. Sr. Charlotte was blessed in a way: she did get an audience of people willing to listen to her and help get closure. Out of our ignorance, we never gave my grandma that opportunity: we would cut her off as soon as she started with one of “her stories…!” She died in 1989 without ever having the chance to tell her story and get closure.

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