It was a process. Little things that added up. I had a friend who was df'ed at one point in her life, went through a rough patch, and when she came out of it, reinstated but on the edge, I asked her what was up with the "truth" and she flat out said she didn't want to lose her family again. I remember thinking, that's not fair. A person should be worshipping God in this particular way, because they believe that it is the right way, not out of fear of losing their family.
Then after I had my kids and dragged 'em to the stupid da in the summer. That Pontiac silverdome is hot and awful in the summer. All the guys walking around with the signs telling us mothers Sit Down. Ok, well, my 2 year old is tired and teething and you tell her to sit down. I felt bad for them. It was ridiculous. People walking in the circle of the silverdome, around and around. Seeing the same parents with their kids doing the same thing, seeing the same brothers get snarled at for doing their job. At one point I tried to sit on the lawn just outside the door under a small tree to see if I could get my daughter to nap, a brother came up and told me to get off.
Then there were the mothers who beat the bleepity bleep out of their kids to sit still and be quiet.
Trying to explain to my husbands family why I couldn't do Christmas, but my family could have a huge family gathering on Christmas.
People trying to force me to take my kids out in service, when my older one was going through a phase of insecurity.
I could probably think of more, but for now...