This is probably going to be a doozy of a post, as I'm no good at giving the abridged version of stories lol especially when they are about me. LOL I tend to give too many details and not get to the point, but I'll do my best to keep things as short as possible.
That being said, I have finally decided to give you all my background story.
I was born into the organization. Two older sisters. Dad was raised in a dysfunctional family (never knew his real father, abusive step-dad, parents DA'd after 1975 came and went, his only sister df'd for over a decade, etc). Mom was a farm girl with a non-religious military father and was highly persecuted by her family when she studied with the witnesses and eventually became one. They grew to tolerate her decision and we had a decent relationship with them throughout our lives.
I was an awkward chubby little tomboy growing up...very few friends. Found solace in going out in service, simply because it was social interaction and people seemed to love my being there (tho, in retrospect, I'm sure they were just happy to have a young recruit to brainwash).
Family was never STRONG in it, but they tried. Rarely had any family studies...more like we'd go through a phase of a month having them and then not having them for years. Service on saturday was usually a 50/50 chance. I remember as a kid, while getting ready for the meetings in my room, hoping that if I stayed in my room until the last minute before going out to show them I was ready then maybe they would forget about meeting or maybe they would decide we weren't going.
When I was around 12/13, all I remember them emphasizing from the platform was pioneering. How you could do it, what a wonderful thing it was, etc. And the phrase that kept ringing in my ears from them was "what's holding you back?" For me, the simple answer was: baptism. I looked at pioneering as a way of gaining respect, popularity, friends, etc. I viewed it as something amazing to be proud of and how everyone that was a pioneer was happy and loved. How little I knew.
So I made steps toward baptism (not because I wanted to make the truth my own, but because I wanted to pioneer). Got baptized at 14. I had just started home-schooling, making the decision to do so for 9-12 grade (which I did because I was too chicken to attend public school lol). For whatever reason, I did not immediately start regular pioneering (probably wasn't ready yet and most likely wasn't "allowed" anyway according to my parents). I auxillary pioneered off and on for the next few years. Finally convinced my parents to allow me to start pioneering in Sept of 08 at the age of 17. I wanted to start a year earlier but my parents felt that if I started pioneering I would neglect my schoolwork (whatever).
First year of pioneering was actually awesome. But not because I was actually being effective in the ministry. It was awesome because I had a fun, young married sister that was my pioneer buddy and we were going to get to go to the school together and there was a "fun" group of folks that usually met for service. Since I didn't get a part time job til almost halfway through the service year, I had plenty of hours in and therefore could just "have fun" out in service. I can't tell you how many service afternoons ended up just being a lesiurely country drive.
Fast forward to the next service year, I failed to make my time. Not much was really said or done, just the obvious realization that I needed to do better, but nobody said a word about dropping off the list.
OH...I forgot to mention. Around the age of 14/15 my father became emotionally and mentally abusive (borderline physically, tho he never truly abused us in that way....just the occassional patronizing slap upside the back of the head...still abuse, I know). He had a temper like you wouldn't believe and I have very vivid unpleasant memories of his fits of rage. My oldest sister always argued back and it was ugly. I was always the one to sit in the corner (literally) and cower until the fighting was done. Then I would go in my room and cry. This continued for many years, even through my pioneering. He was also a ministerial servant. Because of this, not ONCE was anyone in my family approached by the elders for a shepherding call or anything. My dad presented himself to everyone else as a happy-go-lucky, fun-loving, jovial social butterfly. At home, he was a jekyl and hyde monster that could be triggered at any moment by the smallest of things.
Because of all these changes (I used to be a hardcore daddy's girl) I developed severe depression. It got to the point where I pretty much cried every day in my room, couldn't even stand to be in the same room as my father and whenever he touched me, my flesh literally crawled. It was bad. The older I got, the worse I got. Around the age of maybe 17 (which is when I was starting to pioneer) I developed the habit of cutting myself and successfully hid it from my parents and pretty much everyone else.
Fast forward to the start of my 3rd year of pioneering. By this time I was 19 and finally starting to make friends, conveniently having a car now that I could escape the hell that was my home. I was struggling more and more with thoughts of death, suicide, etc. The typical thoughts that come from depression (and especially a depression with the side effect of self-harm). A month after the start of that third year of pioneering, my best friend from childhood got disfellowshipped. I was devastated. I don't think I had ever cried THAT hard. I still remember all the details surrounding that day she told me.
Having the combination of all that (losing my best friend, having severe depression/self-harm and knowing I hadn't been making my time) I decided to seek the help of the elders, which took A LOT for me to do because I have SEVERE fear/issues with authority figures (obviously so, since my dad was a tyrant). I told them that I was having major depression and felt that maybe I should step off the list because I knew I wasn't living up to the requirements. This was my first experience with directly being unfairly treated by the elders (not counting being ignored and unsupported as a pioneer prior to this). The elders proceeded to give me young people ask articles about the difference between depression and "the blues" that were caused by the hormonal changes of puberty. Told me that I probably wasn't really depressed and just going through changes. I was sitting there with long sleeves hiding cuts and they had the nerve to tell me it was probably just hormones. They told me that they felt it would be a better idea for me to STAY ON the pioneer list, as going off would possibly only add to my depression (which was an accurate assumption because pioneering was my world and was the ONLY thing I was proud of about myself....I had no self-esteem living the life I had lived). They said they'd check in on me again. They didn't, obviously.
A few months later, I still wasn't making my time and was really stressed and depressed because of it, not to mention still being depressed for all the other reasons. The elders approached me saying they wanted to meet with me to "discuss my plan of recovery" (meaning talk about my lack of time situation). This meeting was really just an ambush. In this meeting, they didn't once ask or mention my depression but, rather, basically said: there's no way you're going to make your time for the year and we think you should step off the list. "What do you think?" ....WHAT DO I THINK?? Like saying "no, I think I'll stay a pioneer, thanks" was an option! They had the nerve to TELL me to step off the list when 6 months ago they told me I should stay ON because it would only make me more depressed to go off. They didn't even consider my emotional needs at ALL.
A little while after that, the same elder that gave me those young people ask articles casually asked me (literally, I quote) "So, do you still have the blues??" I looked him straight in his effing face and said with as much suppressed anger as possible "Yes. I do." and walked away. That was the last they even talked to me. I was in that congregation for about another year or so before I finally got a full time job and moved out of my parents house and out of the territory.
I moved out at 21 and from then on it's been a whirlwind of ups and downs. Job lay-offs, crappy roommates, worsening depression, borderline suicide attempts, worsening cutting, even a car accident I somehow miraculously didn't die in.
I've been in and out of different homes, different jobs, different congregations. Even going back a couple of times to the congregation I grew up in. I've been privately reproved twice and publicly reproved once for weaknesses that I wasn't HELPED with, just punished for. I've had elders I thought I could trust, only to eventually be let down by them. I've been criticized and ridiculed my whole life for my physical appearance (i was born big and will probably die big) and tomboyish nature (excuse me for not liking make up!). I've gone through years of my own father and oldest sister mocking my clothes, constantly pointing out I'm a pig, and calling me a dyke if they disapproved of a particular haircut that had absolutely nothing wrong with it. But because it was ME, then it must have meant something. When I got a pet snake at the age of 21, my oldest sister yelled at me and screamed "why do you have to be such a dyke!?!?" Now, obviously, being raised a witness with witness "standards", being called a dyke is a HORRIBLE insult. I wasn't TRYING to be anything. I was just being me and apparently in their eyes "me" was something detestable to Jehovah. That's what their words were training me to believe.
To reinforce this way of thinking, I even had two elders from a certain congregation deny me the "privilege" of joining a group from our congregation to go preach seldom worked territory a couple hours away. What made it worse is that they waited until the last minute to tell me. They knew for about a month that I had signed up and was on the list to go. They waited until a couple days before to meet with me. During which meeting they told me that because my hair was short I was not being exemplary and they kept asking me WHY my hair was so short....because they were fishing for something. When I didn't give them the answer they wanted but merely honestly said that it was because I just really LIKED short hair....they told me that because of the area we lived in, women with such short hair were viewed a certain way. Without directly saying it, they made it clear to me that they were refusing me the right to both auxillary pioneer and do seldom worked territory because apparently my HAIR made me look like a lesbian. At first, I took it really well....not really letting the extent of the situation sink in. They basically said that because I did not have exemplary appearance I could not have exemplary privileges. I sat there thinking "well this must be from Jehovah, so I guess I'll just work on having a more acceptable hairstyle." I was eager to do what was right, despite the fact (that I was overlooking) that they were being completely unreasonable. Black sisters can shave their heads and are still allowed "exemplary privileges". I had even seen pictures from a friends' trip to an international convention where some 40/50 year old sister had hair that was AT LEAST as short as mine and spiked and she was AT the international convention. After this "loving counsel" from the brothers, I can't tell you how many sisters (mostly elders' wives) would come up to me, compliment my hair and say "I wish I could get away with that!"....my bitter response was "no you don't". The funny thing is that I tried for a month or so to NOT get my hair cut (it grows fast)....but then it hit me: how short is too short and how long does it have to be for it to be "acceptable"??? Isn't it just a matter of personal opinion??? Would they one day come up to me and say "ok your hair is long enough now"...or would I have to continue to check in on them and ask if my hair was acceptable enough? I think after I came to that realization is when I decided to give up trying to please the elders and reach out for "greater privileges". I was done. Nothing I did was ever good enough. I'd miss a bunch of meetings and nobody would say a word and then I would show up one meeting wearing my flip flops as I always did (without ever a word of complaint) and an elder would come up to me and say "are you going to the beach?" Not "hi! it's good to see you", etc. Not making me feel welcome. Just counseling my decision to wear flip flops. Yeah...good to see you too mr. elder.
I've been "weak and struggling" for a few years now. Having good periods of meeting attendance and then months of missing. I also finally decided to seek professional help for my depression and self-harm issues, but it's still a long hard struggle there to find the right medications.
In march or april of last year, I can't remember which month, I had finally received my privileges back from a public reproof a year prior. I decided I was going to faux auxillary pioneer and give things one last attempt. I'd been struggling with thoughts of not fitting in and feeling guilty, unworthy, overlooked and just plain sh*tty for a long time, but thought that maybe I just needed to try harder. So I was working full time but went out in service A LOT. I would get up for early morning witnessing at 6am even on days I had to be at work at 10:30. I placed about a dozen books at work and even started a study with a coworker (which obviously ended up fizzling). I thought I was happy. I felt happy. But when the month was done.....it all disappeared. I felt completely hollow, empty, spent and tired. I was DONE.
I had also coincidentally been struggling with feelings/thoughts of homosexuality for years (spurred on by the continuous accusations, no doubt). By this point I felt I no longer could live up to the expectations of the organization and ultimately Jehovah. I still thought it was "the truth" but I was of the firm belief that I was going to be destroyed anyway because I was so weak, so I decided that I was going to leave and do the things I wanted to do and live the way I thought would make me happy during what little time I had left.
The beginning of May 2009 I announced to my parents my decision to move out on my own again. They were shocked and a little concerned but respected that decision. They expressed their concern about my spirituality and kept probing, so I finally said "well...about that....I think I need to take a break from the truth for a while". That was probably the most difficult confession of my life. To have to say that to my parents. So hard. BUT...while they did say they were "depressed" and were obviously hurt, they have been amazing about it. They never really bring up religion in terms of trying to get me to do anything with it. They sometimes randomly fill me in on the latest news of who has died, who has been appointed as what, etc. But they actually didn't even invite me to the memorial this year, which I found to be both highly strange and somewhat satisfying, knowing that they have respected me enough to let me make my own choices.
I moved out in June, had probably the best 6 months of my life feeling free, making new friends, exploring a new lifestyle and just allowing myself to do what I wanted without the extreme guilt trip I was used to all my life. I've recently gone through more bouts of depression and med changes, because that's just a part of my chemical make up that is probably never going to change, but overall I'm happier.
I've been offended and angered, though, by my sisters' reactions to my leaving "the truth" (my family does not know about my sexuality, though, as I don't feel it is necessary to talk to them about it yet).
My oldest sister, whom I've never gotten along with, tried to be closer with me once she finally got married a couple years ago, but I feel as though she has stopped trying to get me to come over the way she used to before I left. We never talk now. My other sister, who is married with 3 kids, claims that she now feels the need to protect herself and her children from me because I am now a danger to them and their spirituality. This, however, PISSES ME OFF because her husband left "the truth" years ago. Not only that, but she allows him to bring his worldly sisters and his df'd lesbian mother into their home. She even had them over one year during the thanksgiving holiday....AND COOKED A TURKEY. If that isn't blatant hypocrisy, I don't know what is. I have attempted to send her friendly text messages, but she does not respond.
Part of me wants to tell my family of my "alternative lifestyle", just so that everything is out in the open. However, I can almost guarantee that my sisters will never want to speak to me again (even if now they are stubborn, I think they would be even more extreme). My biggest fear would be of losing my parents, since they have been so good to me and we actually have the healthiest relationship we've EVER had. They COULD surprise me by taking the same stance as they did when I left....they love me and allow me to make my own life choices. OR...this could be the "straw that broke the camels back" and they would cut off contact. There's no real way to know. And since I'm still just learning about who I am and how I feel, I think it would be a hasty decision to "come out" to my family at this point.
I had the extreme fortune of reuniting with my best friend "sighco" after having not spoken for a year, and not only that, but to find out that we were in very simliar positions in regards to our former childhood religion. We both had left. So now we have an even stronger friendship and have been having amazing religious discussions and discoveries, which is what has led to my realization that the organization is total BS. The more I read, the more questions that are raised and the more I discover that completely appalls me.
I don't know where my life is going to go from here, but I'm glad that I've broken free from the chains of an organization and way of thinking that suppressed who I really am and made me feel like the lowliest of living beings with no future. It is slighly more comforting to not KNOW what the future holds than to know what is going to happen and believe you will be destroyed anyway.
Sorry for making this such a long story (and I even skipped a lot of details, I'm sure!) and THANK YOU to those of you who took the time to read it. I am coming to appreciate the diversity of individuals here on this site and have enjoyed hearing all the different points of view and research from everyone.
Enjoy your easter sunday!!!