Hello fellow forum members, I am very new here, and feel it is time to share a little about myself. This site has gotten me quite riled up again, and even after many years my experience is not memorable and still upsets me when I think of it.
My beginning experience of joining the JW organization at age 6 was not unpleasant at all, and was not for many years. I got used to the routine of 3 meetings a week, and rather enjoyed the fellowship over the years, especially the singing. The hall I grew up in had a real piano and a lovely pianist who did a lovely job. Like most growing up, I experienced the school yard ostracism of not singing our national anthem, or standing up for the flag, but I was a good girl and obediently followed the rules, thinking it was just how it was.
Life suddenly changed though at the age of 12, I am not so sure looking back on it why. I grew up with a father and grandmother, and by the age of 12, going to the meetings was not so much fun anymore. But still I obediently followed all the rules. I was one of those kids that everyone wanted their child to be like, well behaved, respectful and obedient. Anyhow, at this age the beatings began for many reasons deemed proper by the parents. And I dont mean the regular old give the child a smack, but serious beatings. The worst related to the organization was being beaten after a meeting for not remembering enough of the public talk or service meeting, or not singing loud enough. This began to happen regularly as fear had already risen up before a meeting from trying so hard to remember everything that in the end you were beaten anyhow because one truly couldnt remember much under this pressure. Things also changed at home in every other way, progressivley through the years the law of the home was, spare the rod spoil the child, and the rod was used severely. My grandmother used to boast to visiting elders or other witnesses how we could yet sit down. Not once did anyone come to our rescue or say anything to stop this happening. I have to say, that there were beatings from early childhood as well, but those memories are not so clear.
Through all this, myself and my siblings fully participated in the organization structure, by going out in the service, preparing and giving talks in the ministerial school. And then went home where the beatings began again. At the age of 13, my home was the host of the weekly tuesday night bookstudy, and during our family looked the pretty picture of happiness. At this age also my dear father found it appealing to start sexually acting out with myself, and in my family home, the word no was not said or the beatings began. There was control in every aspect, both at home, and within the organization by following all the rules explicitly.
One can imagine what happens to the mind of a young woman, being raised that sexual misconduct is sinful out of the marriage arrangement, but having no choice but to suffer at the hands of her father, and then go to a meeting, or carry on with life as though nothing was wrong. It took years to overcome both the experience of it, and worse the scriptural sinfullness of it. The message was of course that I caused it, and of course that made me a bad person and truly not worthy of God. Somehow though, I just carried on, being a good girl, continuing on with going out in the service, giving talks ect. By the age of 15 my father moved away from the home he shared with my grandmother and all us children, and took with him my siblings, for the first time in my life I said no to my grandmother, that I would not go, and for some bizarre reason she let me stay with her. So for me the abuse stopped at this age. But the beatings continued and the emotional and mental cruelty that had taken place through these years continued as well.
At the age of 16 life as I knew it changed. I had become friends with a fairly new girl in the congregation, my grandmother loved her to death, and found her to be good company for me, so allowed her to spend time at my home. One fateful night, a saturday night, she was allowed to come over and then go with us to the sunday meeting the next morning. This night, she talked me into sneaking out with her to attend a function/wedding of a friend of hers. I had never done such a thing, but really liked her, and unfortunately followed her out the window. Unknown at the time by even me, she has already been out partying in the world, but was just very good at hiding it. Being completely sheltered and niave about outsiders to the organization, I really had no idea of how people lived or how much trouble one could find oneself in. Anyhow.. this night I was assaulted by someone at the wedding party, and in shock and grief wandered about for a day, feeling bad and evil, and afraid to go home by this point. I did go home finally and arrived there to find everything I owned in the garage with a note on the door, go on the pill. Now this may seem extreme and unbelievable, but it is unfortunately all very true. The first error I committed I was shunned from my home, without any conversation on what had happened, or why I did it. So due to this, I was never able to share my horrible experience. I cannot express the devestation I felt, the shame that it was my fault to start with, because I had snuck out, and the loss of the home I knew. That night I tried to kill myself, as I was lost beyond belief and felt there was no reason to live. I did not succeed obviously. But I was left in a state of numbness and shock, and stayed that way for a very long time.
Through the weeks that followed after this happened, I had been set up with government assistance to board with a family. My grandmother never did speak to me, nor seek me out to bring me home. I was called before the elders to talk to them about what I was doing in my life, as I had totally stopped going to the meetings after this happened. Unfortunately, I did not tell them about my experience, nor did I tell them about any of my home experiences, I just quietly said, I dont want to go to meetings anymore. A few weeks later it was announced over the platform that I was dissasociated, and from that point onward no one spoke to me. I lived in a small town, so for almost 3 years my grandmother and I would walk on the other side of the street, and never once did she acknowledge I was alive, as well all my siblings were forbidden to speak to me. If one can imagine how incredibly painful this was to a young woman, who really was a good girl through all those years and be shunned by everyone she knew. There was one kind elder who did speak with me, he and his wife had taken me under their wing as a young woman and spent alot of time with me prior to this. This man had known my grandmother while she had raised her children, and said to me through the years following, that it was a wonder I was as stable as I was. But, unfortunately I guess under the circumstances of my not sharing the entire story, he really could not do anything.
During those years from leaving home until almost 19, I ended up drinking and partying like crazy. It took me awhile to get used to the people in the world, but I numbly lived those years the best I could. It was close to the age of 19 that the kind elder who always made a point of visiting me every couple of weeks, had convinced me that perhaps I should return to the hall, and because I had not at this point stopped believing in the religion, I started to think it was a good idea. I also thought to myself, that perhaps my grandmother would love me again, so I returned, and was immedietly reinstated. After I had returned and continued up again with studying, going out in service, giving talks, a couple elders who had not been involved in my situation told me that they never should have dissasociated me in the first place, and it was a shame that it had happened, but they were very happy I had returned.
I had returned for nearly a year when I learned that my father had been abusing my younger sister, and had done so from the time he had moved away with them until she had left home and married at the age of 17. She shared with me that she had gone to the elders in her congregation, and that because he had cried, and said he was sorry, nothing was done. I was horrified beyond belief. I had never said a thing about myself, as that was my way, my role was the protector though, and upon hearing this, I then went to the elders in my congregation and told them the story thinking they would do something about it and bring justice to my sister for her sufferings. I truly believed they would, I knew that he was an abuser from my own experience, and although did not seek punishment to him for my sufferings, but wished to support my sister. The elders in my hall told me that nothing could be done, as it had already been dealt with and that I was to leave it in gods hands. There was no police report made, and my sister being young and vulnerable also did not seek help from the police as well. So in the end, my father was not punished, and remained in the congregation as a member of good standing.
For my efforts in trying to find justice for my sister, my grandmother then turned against me, and my sister, calling us both dirty liars, her son could not do such a thing. I was horrified beyond belief, and at that time made my final departure from the organization. I spoke to no one of it again, other than that one kind elder, telling him, I wanted nothing to do with an organization or god that condoned the behavior of my father. I never did go back, and a year later, I finally gained enough courage to sit down and right a confrontational letter to my father, written diplomatically, with scriputures attached, confronting him on his evil behavior. Not long after, I recieved in the mail a package of letters from both my younger brothers, and my grandmother, that I was demonized, and on drugs, and that I was comletely disowned from the family until I stopped with my lies against my father and apologized. This started a period of bible throwing for me, and complete hatred for the word god, it was like the final straw had been pulled and I lost it in regards to religion.
Sadly, when I left that final time, I still believed the religion, and it took me many many years of counselling to get over it, and believe that I was a good person, as even though I knew I had been wronged, that message still came through loud and clearly. Its hard to rid ones mind of something that had been drilled into my head for many years.
Now I find myself in a place that I see the craziness of this organization, and have come to terms with my feelings on it. But, I still to this day, carry the hurt that they did nothing to protect my siblings and myself, especially in the end when there was no doubt that wrongs had been committed by my father. To this day, he is still a member in good standing, has remarried, and has more children.
My youngest brother also suffered greatly at the hands of the family in many ways, from the emotional and severe physical abuse, to spiritual abuse. He committed suicide 2 years ago this past mothers day. I blame the family for this, he was troubled emotionally from the years of abuse, and lived a partying lifestyle to cover his pain. He was never good enough, and they cannot see where they did wrong, in harming his spirit, but I do, as I lived it, and know that it is what was his coming undone to the point of suicide. It was his death that brought back all the pains of the religion, the family, the crazy extremism that he/we were raised with that he could never live up too. I was lucky, Im a warrior woman, and have survived much, living in spite of it all, but he being the youngest, and the most frail was not able to handle it all, and took his life.
Some reading this will say, this is all very sad and unfortunate and horrible, but it is not gods fault or the organizations fault. I say it is! The fact they did nothing when evidence was given to them on the abusivness of my father shows this. There were so many other horrible abuses, I will not even share them, but what I have shared is enough to get the picture of life at home, and the fact that much of it was known, but no one did anything to stop the abuse going on. Over the years since, I have become aquainted with others who are no longer with the organization, who too suffered greatly within the organization and were not protected. All these experiences, and personal knowledge of others, has enforced my desire to never have anything to do with this religion ever again. I realize there are some kind, good hearted people within it still, as in any other religion, but, this knowledge is not enough for me to take serious anything presented by this religion again.
Since then looking back with a much clearer mind, I see the hypocrisy within the organization itself. The gatherings with all the drinking, the youth from so called god abiding homes out partying, the sexual misconducts that went on often, and a multitude of other things, the double standards lived, I see that I have escaped and am glad of it.
Well.. I have rambled on long enough.. and feel rattled.. my usual articulate writing is likely not my best in this posting.. but there I am..