bluebell
Joined(I got my picture from copyright-free-pictures.org.uk) I was brought up a JW and got baptised in the 90's. My parents were both witnesses, my father had joined and then met my mom, who had witness parents and whose grandparents were bible students so I was 4th generation I think. My father was brought up in care, in those days circumstances had to be pretty horrific for you to be taken into care, I don't think anyone will ever know what he went through, but sexual, physical and emotional abuse were all there. He came out of the care homes and met the witnesses a few years later. He and my mom love their religion and my father stove for responsibilities and my mom supported him, but he molested me and I think he abused my elder brother, who in turn abused one of my sisters. My father didn't like my brother or me, my two younger sisters were ok, he liked them or more importantly they had stronger personalities and stood up to him, I never could. I was brought up knowing my mom loved me. I think my mom was scared of him too, but she loves him and I genuinely believe that she never knew what happened between my father and I. He used to take his bad temper off on me and my brother, telling us we were stupid, worthless, good for nothing, I wish my mom had been stong enough to tell him he was wrong in front of us, but I don't know what would have happened to her if she did. he used to hit my brother sometimes, he never hit me but i don't know how long he molested me for, I was about 12/13 when it stopped but I don't know when it began. I think it lasted at least two years but I'm not any more sure than that. I never felt good enough, and the JW religion with constant calls to do more didn't help much, but I don't blame it for that part of my personality. They don't know what goes on behind closed doors - only see the facade in front of their eyes just like any other human being. I tried and tried to put the abuse behind me but felt so guilty about it. I tried so hard to do the right things - studying, praying, witnessing but it was never enough. The thing that broke me was when I finally told the elders what my father did to me, he got more help than I did, the congregation was under the impression he stepped down through stress and constantly told me what a wonderful man he was and how lucky we were that he was our father. Then two or three years later, I was told he could work towards responsibilities again. To me that screamed wrong. I tried a year or two more to be a good witness but found that elders in other congregations knew what had happened to me and warned others off because I may be bad association. That hurt so much, especially when I was trying so hard to do what was right, studying and praying, I even auxilliary pioneered for three months in an effort to find some enthusiasm (you know - you only dislike the minisrty because you don't get enough practice?)but people still didn't think I was spiritual because I got depressed and I didn't hide the fact that I went out and listened to music and danced. But I never ONCE did anything "wrong" and was still viewed as bad association?! I left a year after finding out that others were warned against me, kick started by finding out my father had once again been put forward for responsibilities. I tried to build up a support network before I left because I was aware that I would have no friends, except for my mom who loves all her children unconditionally and is happy for us to be happy. I met the most wonderful man ever, who stood by me, held me when I cried and was angry at what had happened to me. He gave me back my self worth. I'm slowly beginning to like myself now, for me and not because of what other people think. He wants me to think for myself, make decisions for myself, to stand on my own two feet. I never thought I would be strong enough to do those things, but I am. I still go weird sometimes, but I know there is light at the end of the tunnel.