I've been out of the JWs for some time now, seven years. Like many of you, I left a lot of acquaintances, friends, and family behind.
The acquaintances were fairly easy to let go, the friends very hard, and the family, well, near impossible, at least up until now. I was very fortunate that my leaving triggered a chain reaction in my family of origin, and two of my sisters left during this time. But my mother has remained a loyal Witness. She's been a member since the early '60's, when I was little, and she is a longtime pioneer, and partakes at The Memorial.
My brother, who was more than a brother, but a best friend, has stayed in. I understand it to some degree. He's got a "good" marriage, a good life with two good incomes coming in, a set-up life in the Dubs. But we were best friends. Best friends that got together every weekend so we could drink beer, go out to eat, BBQ, go to the movies, play sports, work out, take vacations together. We've always liked the same things. He was more than a brother, but my very best friend.
Of course DA'ing myself has resulted in my mother and brother shunning me. Funny, the two people I was the closest to in my family of origin are the ones that have nothing to do with me now. For these seven years now I've consistently maintained contact with them by email and telephone. I've called and spoken to them at least every two weeks.... always me calling; never them. They are always happy to hear from me, of course, mixed with sadness. There is no preaching from them about returning to the Witnesses. They know there isn't a snowball's chance in hell of that ever happening. They know I'm resolute that Jehovah's Witnesses is a cult.
I have always hoped... hoped against all odds that one day that at least there would be some breakthrough with them on the JW issue; that one day that "wall" would come down and they would want to know why I left, that they would begin to want to hear both sides of the story about the JWs. Or at the very least welcome me back into their lives even though they choose to remain JWs; that their love for me would move them to re-establish contact. This has not happened. Always expressions of regret, of missing me, but nothing new to resolve the enforced distance between us. To show you what it's like, my mother had the gall to actually park her car when she was out in service in front of my house. I was outside working on the lawn and saw her walking down MY sidewalk. I said hello. But because she was with her Dub friends, she did not respond. Believe it or not, this has happened TWICE.
These interactions with them leave me drained and depressed most of the time after hanging up the phone. Sure it's great to talk to them, hear what's going on in their lives, tell them what new things I'm up to, but in the end I know they will never have dinner with me again, much less take a trip together again like we used to. Those days are finished. Most likely forever never to be repeated. This was really brought home to me on September 11th. There was nary a word from the JW family members. Zero, zilch, nothing. I didn't exist for them. I mean, for crying out loud, even people I know who are athiests stopped on that day to call their loved ones to let them know they were thinking about them.
In talking with a good friend here on the board, I suddenly realized that what I'm doing by reaching out to them for this long, and them never reciprocating, is a bit like an abusive relationship. It's like the typical story you hear of a wife who returns to a man that beats her, but she keeps going back; that's what she knows, she feels he can change, that there is good in him, and maybe she's a part of the problem. Well, we all know what a mistake that is. In that case, hope is destructive. Ah, experience, the great teacher.
Finally, after taking some time to really think deeply about it, I stopped calling. I stopped all contact whatsoever. Months and months have gone by. They have not called or emailed. And the real reason I am posting this all-too-familiar post here is I wanted to tell you that the more time that goes by, the better I feel about it. What I experience about it reminds me of that scripture about being "called to peace." It feels good to take charge of the situation, to make my own decision that a relationship with them is destructive to me, and on my own terms to just let it go. Let it pass away, and the pain along with it. I don't have to have them in my life anymore to be happy. Wish I had done it long ago. I'm a happier person because of it. And now I'll tell you how I know.
By chance I ran into my mother last week. Like I said, it's been a long time since we've spoken face to face. I told her I wanted to talk to her and she was willing to sit down and listen. I told her I wished things were different, that we could have a relationship like a mother and son, that this "wall" between us was not good, and I didn't want it to be there anymore. I was able to tell her, without an ounce of anger, that she shouldn't shun me any longer. That just because I held myself to a higher standard of truth than her religious organization, that didn't mean she should participate with her religious leaders in trying to punish me for it. And all the good information I've learned here came tumbling out...the blood issue, the false dates; heck, even the UN/NGO issue. I got my point across calmly and succintly. I told her if she really wanted to have a relationship with "Jehovah" then it had to be on a foundation of courage, not fear. That she should listen to both sides of the story without fear and make her own decision. When I finally got to the end of what I wanted to say, I walked around the table and told her I loved her, I missed her, and wanted her back in my life, and to please stop shunning me. Then I hugged her and kissed her on the cheek. I thought she was going to cry. To tell you the truth, I thought I might myself. It was a real breakthrough for me. No anger. Emotion, yes. But not that big chip of anger. What a difference from the seething, bitter person I was seven years ago.
I told her not to make a decision now on whether she was going to continue to shun me, but I would see her in a month, take some time to think about it, pray about it, and we would talk then.
The point of this is I know I've done everything right. They know exactly how I feel and where I stand. If it's a loss, then it's a loss. Most likely that's what it will be. And either way, I'll have peace about it. And if they ever change their minds, I'll be the first to welcome them back with open arms. But just wanted to share with you that letting go is sometimes a good thing.
"The God that comes before skepticism may bear little resemblence to the God that comes after."
M. Scott Peck (The Road Less Traveled)