I wasn't born in the truth. My parents started studying when I was five. We started living all the principals completely when I was nine. I was the dutiful first born: studied with my mom, logged my door-to-door hours, witnessed to all my schoolmates, got baptized at 13. I could preach bible "truths" like most girls can name the members of the current boy bands. I was completely, zealously immersed. Except for one thing.
We lived in a small town where we were the only witness children. "Bad associations spoil useful habits." I can't tell you how often that was drilled into my brain. The problem was, with no one in school with us, and the nearest family a half hour away, the only way we could be social was to be friends with kids at school. My parents understood this and did not discourage our friendships. In fact, they DEFENDED us. In hindsight, I'm so grateful for my parents' decision. It made leaving much easier. After all, those evil people I was told about ended up being far better associations than the people in my congregation.
I left home, joined a local congregation in another state and realized that, like many organizations, it was all about the popular kids. Those that were third or fourth generation were put on a platform. Those like me, who'd left home (a big no-no) were thought to be "questionable". It didn't really matter that the worse thing I'd ever done was sass my mom, whereas those other kids were sleeping around, smoking and drinking. After a while, I got tired of the self-righteous hypocrisy. I just couldn't take it any more. The straw that broke the camel's back was when a "friend" told me that she couldn't associate with me any more because of my lifestyle. (I worked graveyards at Denny's.) I couldn't believe what she was saying. After all, she was having an affair with a man and staying overnight at his house. (Sorry. She'd come home at 4 a.m. so that it couldn't be said she'd spent the night.) And then she spoke to an elder who said he thought I should start a bible study with his wife. People were more worried about appearances than with was actually going on.
I just faded out. Fortunately, my whole family left around the same time I did. Same general reason. My mom's too mouthy. (She actually had an opinion!) The elders counseled my father repeatedly about reining her in. My dad finally told them to take a flying leap. That was that. Unfortunately, the teachings of youth are hard to put behind you.
I had a difficult time with guilt. I felt like I was worth nothing in God's eyes (I actually still believe in God) because I'd fallen out of the truth. I drank. I had friends. I had a boyfriend. To me, it didn't matter that I am a good person, that I believe in being kind to others, that I do a lot for different causes. It didn't matter that I never intentionally hurt someone, that I try not to judge others. All that mattered was I didn't go to the KH so I was going to have endless death with no hope. Great.
The other day I was surfing the internet and came across this site. I was almost afraid to open it. I screwed up my courage and read thread after thread. My eyes opening wider after every account. I realize that I've escaped relatively unscathed. I left when I was 19. Yeah, it screwed up my chances for a scholarship because "you shouldn't go to college". There were things that I didn't understand when I was a child but now look at with new eyes. Archaic principals such as "If you are ever raped, be sure to scream. If you don't, it's not rape." Telling us not to go to marriage counselors or shrinks because they are evil and will mess with our minds. Telling wives of abusive husbands to go back to their husbands and show them the proper respect due to them. These were things that I remember hearing, being told, but it took this forum for me to look at them as a woman, not a child. I can't help but wonder what the hell my parents were thinking.
I was shocked and surprised by how many people are on this site. Besides my family, I'd only met three other people who were former JW's. I thought that I was weak and unworthy. I didn't realize that there were more people out there who'd had the same realizations I had. Reading their accounts has been cathartic. It's opened me up and reminded me of the insanity. It has at times been a trip down memory lane. I'd forgotten about the apostates protesting the conventions, the inability to ask questions at meetings, the thought that everyone knew we were witnesses and so we must be on our best behaviour, the reviews, the pressure to be perfect witnesses, the lingo.
My husband's worried that I'm becoming obsessed. I'm not really. It's more along the lines that every story I read, every experience, makes me see more clearly. The scales are falling from my eyes and with them, a weight is lifting from my shoulders and I realize what a good choice I made all those years ago.
Wow. That was long. Sorry.