I had lunch with my JW brother yesterday. About a year ago, he had an emotional crisis and questioned a lot of things, including his faith. I thought (and hoped) that he would consider his beliefs and come realize that his beliefs were part of his crisis. This was not the case, but he and I continue to be on good terms. He has since, however, gone fully back to the JWs. We still get together frequently, and he doesn't make any effort to keep me a big bad secret. Yesterday we dropped in on one of his JW friends, to see his new baby. (They were very nice.)
Anyways, about 6 weeks ago, my mother "disfellowshipped" me. I had dropped by their house to pick up something from my dad. She came in, left a hallmark card on the counter with my name on it, then went out and stood in the garage. I asked my dad, "am I supposed to take that?" He said, "I'm not sure, it has your name on it, so I guess so." When I got home I read this letter that basically said blah blah blah, you won't tell me what is happening with you, you're not my family, etc, etc.
None of this was a particular surprise, because my mother is given to this type of manipulative behavior anyways. She has, at various times, quit speaking to me for extended periods of time. The last time was when I told her that in the case of medical decisions she had better have her wishes in writing, because I would not submit to headship and allow my brother to make decisions simply because he was "the boy." I think in that incident I didn't hear from her for 2-3 months.
This time, I am just tired of fighting her in order to have some semblance of a normal relationship. She can have it. She has played headgames like this ever since I can remember, even when I was a "good JW." At some instinctive level, I want "a" mother to love me and be proud of me. "My" mother does not, and truthfully never has, fit that bill. I'm jealous of women who have good relationships with their mothers, but really have no context to know what that is like, in spite of having periods in my life where we have both played at having a friendship. TBH, if I knew her purely on a social level, I would stay far, far away from her, although admittedly, she is very good at fooling people (including herself) into believing that she is sweet and generous and loving...
I'm rambling.
Yesterday at lunch, my brother and I were talking about random stuff - he got a job somewhere that offers an interesting benefits package that exceeds the typical insurance/401k- he gets tuition breaks at a very good school and is thinking of taking a few classes. We talked about my business, and his friends, and the fact that neither of us have kids, want kids, but are ambivalent about it sometimes...
He made a half-hearted attempt to justify our parents' attitude toward me. He said "they're worried, they're very worried about your life." As if I don't know that.
I'm tired of allowing them the right and justification to feel like that. It's sick and wrong.
I told my brother, "you know, I'm sorry they feel that way, but I have to behave with integrity, I have to do what I believe is right. You realize that ordinary parents would be very proud of us as their children. We've done well, and normal parents would be proud of that and happy for us."
I'm utterly tired of being the abnormal one for leaving the JW, and I'm not going to let that stand anymore.
After lunch we stopped by our parents' house. Mom went out in the other room, although she did say "hi." (Nothing more, just "hi." Does that mean that this episode of the silent treatment is over? do I care?) Dad still treats me with respect and love, in spite of his stupid exclusionary and apocalyptic beliefs.
I try to be reasonable and accepting. I try to realize that their religion is a huge part of their lives, personality, choices, and that they have the right to choose that. Heck, I'm even mindful that they are guaranteed the right to whatever asinine belief they choose by the same constitution that guaranteed my right to be free from their asinine belief.
But I still hate it. I HATE it. I hate that there is no way possible for me to ever have a normal family. I hate that my parents see me as dead every time they look at me. I HATE HATE HATE that my mother gets accolades and love and support from people because she turns her back on her daughter.
And I hate that I left that horrible cult 6 years ago, and I am still forced to deal with their attitudes and actions.