The ENFJs Who Stood Up: From Austin’s Inner Circle to Voices for the Silenced
You can move from blind loyalty to clear-eyed advocacy. From applause to integrity. From being used… to being useful.
I recently asked a circle of former cult members who are whistleblowers to identify their personality type. The answers rose like a chorus—ENFJ, INFJ. Extrovert and introvert, two halves of a warrior’s soul, standing together in truth.
For the longest time, I was his right hand.
Austin—the archetypal ENTJ—commanding, strategic, visionary. A man who thrived on control wrapped in charisma. And I, the ENFJ, brought the heart. I translated his ambition into connection. I was the warmth that made the fire bearable. The bridge between his vision and the people who followed it.
Together, we were unstoppable, or so it seemed.
For a decade, I stood beside him. Led teams. Built programs. Defended choices I didn’t fully understand because I trusted him. Because I believed the vision. Because, as an ENFJ, I saw the potential and not yet the cost.
But there comes a point when even the most loyal can’t unsee what they’ve seen.
The façade began to fracture. I heard the cracks in the voices of the hurting. I saw the smiles of the broken who were told to “have more faith.” I felt the weight of manipulation masquerading as mentorship.
And I could no longer carry it.
So I spoke up. We shared hesitantly with Pastor Kelvin -
Not just for ourselves, but for them. For the volunteers burning out in silence. For the girls dismissed. For the whistleblowers buried. For the ones Austin steamrolled in the name of “vision.”In came Kelvin
Kelvin was the next ENFJ to orbit Austin’s world, stepping into his spotlight in 2013 after I had pulled back into the shadows. Bright, passionate, articulate. Another idealist drawn into the gravitational pull of a strong ENTJ with a plan. And Kelvin gave his all. Just like I did. Probably even more.
At first, he couldn’t see it, the cracks, the coercion, the control. ENFJs want to believe the best. We want to redeem, not reject. But Kelvin’s compassion ran deep. And when we finally had the chance to speak to him, truly speak, without fear, without spin, his blinders came off.
And once he saw, he couldn’t unsee it either.
Kelvin didn’t walk away. He stood up.
He faced the fire. He looked Austin in the eye, not with rebellion, but with heartbreaking clarity, and said enough. He saw the pain, the disillusionment, the spiritual and emotional damage. And instead of protecting the institution, he chose to protect the people.
The Weight of Standing, Not Leaving
People often think whistleblowers flee. That we “abandon ship” or “turn bitter.”
But the truth is, Kelvin and I didn’t leave when things got hard.
We stayed when it was unbearable.
We stayed long enough to challenge the system from the inside. We confronted power. We questioned the narratives. We broke the code of silence. We stood, knowing full well what it would cost.
Because that’s what ENFJs do when our hearts break for others. We act.
ENFJ to INFJ: A Transformation Through Fire
The transition we underwent wasn’t a change in personality, but a deepening of it. A modification in how we operate. In those long nights of reflection, after the confrontation, the backlash, the grief, we both found ourselves moving into a more INFJ-like space.
Solitude. Introspection. Writing instead of speaking. Patterns instead of plans. Healing instead of hype.
We learned the hard truth: sometimes, changing the world means walking through the fire with your eyes wide open, and coming out quieter, wiser, and far more dangerous to systems of abuse.
We are still ENFJs. We still dream big. But now, we see differently. We speak less but say more. We don’t sell vision—we test it. We don’t protect leadership, we protect people.
The Final Word
We were Austin’s allies. Now, we are advocates for those he hurt.
Kelvin and I didn’t become enemies of the church. We became its conscience.
And to anyone else out there, especially those who once stood beside the charismatic leader, the vision-caster, the magnetic “man of God”—if your heart is breaking for what you now see, know this:
You are not alone.
You are not crazy.
And you can stand.
You can move from blind loyalty to clear-eyed advocacy. From applause to integrity. From being used… to being useful.