So I'll start at the beginning. This is long.
My mother was raised in a secular family, and was never religious. She married my dad who also was not particularly religious. Then she gave birth to me, and realised that life was a miracle. She began searching for God. She prayed and asked God to show her who he was. The next day (or so she tells the story) the JWs came to the door. The rest, as they say is history.
She started studying and convinced my dad to do the same. Pretty soon my dad (who had a scientific, technical type intellect) realised that everything the JWs said was crap. But mum was hooked. There were some doubts, but she let them slide. Anyway, she hadn't committed in any way to being baptised when my family moved to the other side of the world. Here was my mother in a strange country, barely speaking the language, and she knew no one. So who came knocking at the door? Well, she quickly told them she had been studying before moving country. They love-bombed her pretty quickly. They even sent a brother and sister around to study with her who spoke our native language. Suddenly she didn't feel so isolated and alien anymore.
She got baptised in the early 1980s. I remember it was in a large above-ground tub at a huge district convention. I was about 6 years old. The one thing I remember about that day was that she complained about loosing one of her gold earrings in the pool (who wears gold earrings at their baptism?). I think that was a sign of things to come. Many years later she told me she only got baptised because she felt she "owed" the JWs something because they had been so kind to her.
So the years dragged on. I remember sitting on the floor at meeting, circling the words I knew in the Bible Stories book as I was learning to read. I remember loving the plays at the district conventions. I also remember being dragged around door-to-door as a 7 year-old dressed in an itchy wool tartan skirt, itchy stockings and a turtle neck that felt like it was choking me.
By the time I was 12, mum had started to fade. The thing that got her the most was the "lifestyle control" as she put it. It bothered her that tabs were kept on meeting attendence and field service. She hated the condescending "Oh, we missed you last Sunday at the meeting". She also hated the fact that we couldn't celebrate Christmas or birthdays, which she remembered fondly from her childhood. So as far as she was concerned, it was over.
Well, my father, sister and myself couldn't have been happier. This lasted until I turned 17 and left home to attend university in another city. I felt lonely and isolated (sound familiar?). Just then I watched a documentary about space and meteors exploding etc. and began to get worried that the world might end any day through some cataclysmic space event (dumb huh?). I thought "I don't want to die". And which organisation offers ever lasting life? I contact the JWs and started a study. I was love-bombed in a major way. Suddenly I had a host of friends. The fact that I was a university student was conveniently swept under the carpet. As my study progressed, my conductor talked to me about living with "worldly flatmates". What she meant was that there was a male in the share house I was living in and that even if nothing was happening "it looked bad". I moved out to live by myself - so they had me cornered. Another time as an unbaptised publisher I was counselled about the modesty of my dress (apparently my skirt was a little transparent). I remember my 18-year-old self-conscious cheeks burning with shame.
But still I took the plunge and got baptised. My mother was a little disappointed, but overall very supportive. She acknowledged the good things about the org, and also that I was a "calmer" person as she put it (It was true, I used to have severe problems managing my temper and was very anxious). After that, I stayed for 3 years before fading. The story of my life in the truth is so far still very painful. I experienced all the bigotry, judging and clique mentality in my congo. The funny thing is, this stemmed from the younger (unmarried) sisters. They all worked as secretaries in carpet cleaning businesses (run by elders in the congo). I was studying science at uni. I was weird. I was different. It bothered them that I never planned my door-to-door deliveries but placed more magazines than them. That I read my watchtower article 3 hours before the meeting (not 2 days before with highlighter) and still managed to make more articulate and intelligent comments. One time a sister said, "You know, your answers are very intelligent, but being in the truth is not an intellectual exercise." Chip on the shoulder anyone? The elders were ALWAYS very supportive of me, even when I started talking about why I no longer liked attending meetings. But ultimately I left because I couldn't stand the "lifestyle control".
So, as they say, all things come full circle. I am now happily married to a Catholic man, although have not joined another church. We have 2 children which are being raised as Catholics (which I am okay with, I just can't commit to becoming one myself). And life is much better. But the scars, the hurt, are still sometimes there.