I have posted this story before on some other boards, but after "lurking" for a long time here, I have finally decided to come out and tell my story. It is really long, so I'm going to tell it in a few parts. That way I can also tell if I'm boring everyone to death, haha! Hi Crumpet!
I was raised a JW from birth. My mother studied with the Witnesses in our hometown, but never took it seriously. She had been raised a Baptist and went back and forth between the two religions. My father was in the military, and he got stationed overseas. He, my mother, and my older sister moved across the Atlantic to a different country, a different language, and a completely new way of life. Since my dad worked, and my older sister went to school, often my mom was alone. She also was ill. And that's when the Witnesses came in. She ran into another American on the street walking to her doctor's office while with my sister. They stopped to chat for a bit, surprised to see each other there. Then the green Bible peeked out of the woman's bag. My older sister spotted it(for she had always believed it was the "truth). Then the woman invited my mother on the Bible study. My mom made excellent progress and when she returned to the United States, she was baptized. I was born 11 years after her baptism. Since my father was not a Witness, there was constant pressure on us kids from my mother to be exemplary. She worked hard at making sure we were spiritually well fed, even though we were "fatherless" children. In the beginning, I just went along with it, feeling neither positively nor negatively toward the religion...it was just my way of life. Soon the pressure came to get baptized. I really didn't want to. It's not that I didn't know what was being taught to me, or didn't understand it, I just didn't want to do it. But my mother insisted, "If you know what the truth is, and you don't get baptized, you are still held accountable for your actions and Jehovah will judge you." So I got baptized. I was 12 years old.
In the meantime, my brother was going through a difficult time. He was wild, drinking and partying. My mother was at her wits' end. None of my older sisters had ever given her this much trouble, and I was determined not to make things more difficult for her. I auxiliary pioneered dutifully every summer, even though I hated the field ministry. I started high school at 13, and I longed to go to school dances and football games and have boyfriends just like the other girls, but knew I could never do so. There were some occasions when I thought about suicide, and I made a half-hearted attempt at 15. But at meetings I was looked up to. I was practically the only young person in the Kingdom Hall, and I was always on stage for demonstrations, talks, and assembly parts.
The last two years of high school, my mother insisted that I attend vocational school. This was to prepare me to find suitable employment so I could pioneer. Deep down I was disappointed. I didn't want to go to vocational school--I wanted to go to college like the other kids. I was getting excellent grades, and all kinds of scholarships were offered to me. I finished in the top 20% of my class. Nonetheless, I wanted to please my mother and live up to everyone's expectations of me, so college was not an option. After graduating high school I began regular pioneering that September. At first it was OK, but soon I began to see the inner turmoil even among the pioneers. I had always been taught that pioneering was the best thing you could do, and it was the only thing that brought true happiness and rewards because they came from Jehovah. But the women(the whole pioneer body were women) constantly bickered among themselves, and I'd often come home from a full day of service exhausted. I remember one crazy sister took me out from 6AM to 6PM, and I hadn't eaten anything all day. When I got home, I threw up.
This went on for some time. As the time progressed, I became more and more unhappy with pioneering. All the while people continued to admire me and I continued to have parts at assemblies. I had lots of interest from Bethelite brothers, but I always knew I would never marry a Bethelite. Most of them were self-absorbed hypocrites(sorry to any former Bethelites--I know all of them weren't like that). And of course, being a young woman, my sexual desire was very strong but I was able to suppress it. Halfway through my 3rd year of pioneering, I got my driver's license. That was the beginning of the end. Having a car gave me freedom I had never had before. (Here comes the juicy part)
It started innocently. A brother had agreed to do my taxes, so I was driving to his house. I got lost, and my car conked out right on the highway, in the middle of peak traffic. Two men came running from a store to push my car out of the traffic. I breathlessly thanked them, and they went back to work. But one of them came back. He was my opposite in every way, tall, blond, blue-eyed...very attractive. He told me I could wait in the store instead of out in the rain, and of course I declined. But I told him that as thanks for helping me, I would buy something from his store. I knew it was wrong, because I knew he was attracted to me, and I to him...but I went back to the store several times. We flirted often, and finally he told me that he was attracted to me from the moment he saw me, and he wanted to take me out. I accepted. He took me to the movies, and after the movies there was some kissing and "heavy petting". Driving home, I was shaking. I could not believe what I had just done. I was numb. But I didn't want to stop seeing him. The next week, he invited me to his apartment, and I went. I told him I was very religious and didn't want to have sex, and he said, "I know." But, we were at his apartment, one thing led to another, and I lost my virginity to him. When I left his house, I thought that God was going to strike me dead right then. If not at that immediate moment, I would get into some type of accident on the way home. I was still pioneering. A complete hypocrite. But I was also confused because I was actually enjoying this relationship. The intimacy was wonderful, and I felt so comfortable with him. How could something so right really be so wrong? I was happy to be in a relationship, and yet conflicted. It was also sad not to be able to share this happiness with my family. This was the beginning of the seeds of doubt.
End of Part I
