I remember that I questioned the Bible as a teenager. But I put it aside because my life was comfortable.
It began years later when I had to stand up for my faith. I was in the hospital and had to refuse a blood transfusion. I refused it because I felt obliged, not out of deep conviction. I felt like I didn't have any other choice. It was horrible. I cried all day and was scared I would die.
This experience made me think. Why would Jehovah demand something that brings such bad reputation to his name? Why doesn't he save JWs that die of blood loss so that everyone would clearly see that they are his people? Why wouldn't he forgive me if I accepted a blood transfusion because I want to live?
At that time I also attended evening classes for two years. I was panicking about my classmates finding out I'm a JW. This fear reminded me every week on my doubts.
Finally my husband woke me up last year. I'm glad he wasn't afraid of doing research.