nilfun, I can't say that I was abused as a child, other than being totally stifled emotionally. I am so sorry that you were. I do know what you mean about members of the same family having totally different experiences. I am the youngest and the next oldest is my sister who is a year and a half older. We were together almost all the time but we have entirely different accounts of so many things. She always says that I was spoiled and that I got to do anything I wanted. She says that if we were out shopping and our parents planned on going home to eat, that if I asked could we eat out then my father would say yes. I have absolutely no recollection of this. I always felt growing up that she was the good girl. She was a straight A student, always prepared for meetings, always eager for field service, never once interested in a boy that I can remember, never in trouble. I on the other hand, B student (although I could have blown her out of the water if I thought there was any reason to), just went through the motions as far as meetings and field service, and I was boy crazy and always in trouble for it.
I remember once at an assembly being outside at lunch time and talking to this great guy that I really, really liked. We got to looking at cars that were parked on the street and ended up walking around maybe three blocks. We went into a Dunkin Donuts and he spent all the money he had to buy two jelly donuts. Then we went on our merry way back to the school that the assembly was in, only to find most of at least two congregations out looking for us. And there was my sister to greet me with "Boy are you in trouble." I had to sit in my seat for the rest of the break with every one looking at me, embarassed and angry and sad. Tim had to have a friend of his sneak my donut over to me. I couldn't eat it then I was so upset and somehow on the way home it got misplaced. All I can think now is, What did they think we were going to do in the brief time we were gone. We were fifteen and broke, we certainly couldn't get a room.
As for leaving the witnesses, at the time I relly couldn't give a specific reason, I was married and had both of my children. My son was about a year and a half and I just remember sitting at the back of the hall holding him with my husbands arm around meand our daughter on his lap and I couldn't stop crying. My husband said "C'mon, we're getting out of here." and we left and haven't been back in 17 years except maybe 2 memorials.
els