My Dad was a congregation servant and then an elder the whole time I was growing up. I had to be inspected before every meeting to make sure my hose didn't have runs, my skirt wasn't too short, shoes were OK, hair was OK, I had my Bible/songbook/bookbag or whatever all ready so I could be a good example. He did this outside, by the car so the neighbors could see. I had to turn a complete circle to be looked over.
I don't know if he was ignorant, or what, but one time I had a zit on my chin since I was a teenager. He asked me what the thing was on my face and I had to explain it. A teenage chick's already embarassed about having a zit on her face so obviously, here I am 50 years old and still remembering how this made me feel.
When I got to be about 17 they started inviting "suitable brothers" over to the house for lunch after the Watchtower study. I guess they decided it was time for me to get married. Needless to say, I got a crummy job and an apartment and got the hell away from them as soon as possible. I never dated any of their picks.
Sometimes I still lay in bed before work in the morning and just remember things, like how my Mother made my clothes until I just flat out refused to wear them in junior high school. I realize now how naive and uneducated and inexperienced they were, and what a wierd childhood I had being raised by these two odd people. They meant well, I do believe, but they have no idea what memories I still carry and how narrowminded they were and how many opportunities they denied me. I did have a few talents but when my teachers approached them about college or joining band or language clubs and they always decided for me. "Virgochik wants to put Jehoveh's interests first in her life, thank you anyway. She won't be participating in any after school clubs."
I have days still when I'm really angry, and days when I just feel sorry for them. They haven't changed much, still narrowminded and stuck in the mud. They've got no interest in learning to text message, or sending emails, for example. I just have to shake my head and move on. Well, I try to move on, but we still have those random memories crop up, don't we?