Memories of your JW Youth

by Nosferatu 22 Replies latest jw experiences

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  Etude

  Nosferatu, your story is really sad. Where did you live? What was your environment like? The only thing to regret about that is that you were associated with the Witnesses at all. If you hadn't, you might have "broken out" and become what you needed to be a lot sooner in order to stop the abuse and to not put up with all that crap.

  I was lucky. I was relatively popular and went to a lot of parties (we called them get-togethers) with the Witnesses. The problem was that I wouldn't have gotten laid if an orgasm ran me over. I was horny enough but I was too repressed by my parents (it had to do with my native culture) and would imagine that the world would come to an end if I embarrassed them. Looking back, I wish I had put my foot (or any other part of my body) in it and suffer the consequences. I could have saved myself years of a really f'd up time being a Witness.

  My dad was not a Witness but he was supportive. He didn't push, though. Even so, he was very strict in my younger years. I wish he'd care enough, instead of just sitting on the fence, and pushed me to go to college instead of pioneering after graduating from High School.

  It does sound to me like your dad was trying to be saved vicariously. He seems to be one of those do-as-I-say-not-as-I-do kinda guys. You should have called him on it. But, I realize that that might have gotten you another beating. I would have taken it. Anyway, it's all water under the bridge. Revel in your good memories and screw the bad ones. Think about the person you are now and what worth you have that is laudable. Hang tough.

  Etude.
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  Wolfgirl

  I was a gangly, sickly, scrawny kid, so not only did I not have (or be allowed to have) friends in school, but I didn't fit in at the KH either. There was one guy there who was nice to me all through us growing up together, and we were good friends. But everyone else was incredibly rude to me. They'd talk about all the fun things they were doing in front of me, but I never got invited anywhere. I retreated into my own little world in my head for most of the time, and read a lot.
  
  As I got older, I was so lonely, but still got mocked all the time. As a typical teenage girl, there were so many cute boys around. Hee-hee! Then I hit 14, my body filled out to look more like a woman than a kid, and I got contacts. All of a sudden, some of the "worldly" guys started noticing me. But of course, I wasn't allowed to do anything about it. Still no JW interest, and I wouldn't have been allowed to date until I got out of school anyway. You know, the whole 'can't date unless you're ready to get married' thing.
  
  One guy at school asked me out, and I said yes. I was terrified but excited at the same time. It's not like we went anywhere; I was too scared I'd get caught. We just held hands and kissed. That lasted all of a week before some other JW saw us and reported me to my parents. I had to sit in a JC for that. I did that once more a couple of years later, and got in another JC for kissing a "worldly" guy. *sigh*
  
  I was one of the elders' kids who didn't get away with a bloody thing. I was told by another elder, "I'm holding you up as an example for my daughter, so don't mess it up."
  
  It didn't matter how much I did or tried, nothing was ever good enough, and I wasn't accepted into any of the cliques in the KH. I was still the loner.
  
  It wasn't until I got out from under my parents' control that I started to be able to think for myself a bit. That's when I started realising how much I hated going out in field service, and how boring the meetings were. When I lived at home, I had no choice, and the programming was even more intense than at the KH, as was the hitting.
  
  I remember wishing just once, once, could I please have one of those cupcakes that the kids brought in for a birthday. Or what went on in those assemblies I wasn't allowed to go to. Or why all the choral programs (I was in chorus) were on Tuesday or Thursday nights, so I could never be in them. Or what a school dance was like. Or why couldn't I just have a boyfriend? And on and on...
  
  Basically a life of social isolation, sexual repression, and mind-numbing boredom, interspersed with abuse.
  
  SOOOOOOOOOOOOOO glad I'm out and free. :)
• 

  PaulJ

  It was just a constant battle really. Trying to find a common ground between myself and the other kids. In a religion that encourages you to 'stand out'- thats difficult!
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  Ellie

  Woolfgirl - thats so sad, I'm glad though that you managed to see through it and are now free to be yourself.
• 

  TheListener

  Your posts not only remind me of my own childhood.

  But, give me renewed courage and energy to finish what I've begun.
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  estrelasb

  When I read through everyones experience of childhood in the watchtower regime and consider my own, one word comes to mind, and that´s SELFISHNESS. The complete and utter SELF-CENTREDNESS of JW PARENTS.

  Mostly there isn´t even awareness of this selfishness. My parents continue to believe they ´did what what was best for me´. And there lies the most dangerous problem, SELF-DELUSION.

  When I relate my experiences both of childhood and present day to my partner he is sickened. "SICKENED" is the word he uses. I to am SICK of this fucking religion. The way it tears at life even after a person has left many years before, it clings on like cyanide. Using the ties a person holds with his or her own flesh and blood and using it to cause pain and suffering. All that bollocks about the standard of today´s ´´bad sexual morals" (lifes most beautiful, exciting, passionate, inspiring act´- sex) what about the morals of this shit they put on families?

  Sadness shadows me. I can not shake it. Always a little torn.

  Still I guess life must go on.
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  Lilycurly

  The first memory I've got about being a Witness kid is in kindergarden, it was a girl's birthday and they brought her a big chocolate cake. I knew I wasn't to have any, but I was the very shy type of girl, so all I could do was start crying and when the teacher asked me why I cried (she was really puzzled, everyone was happy, of course) and I said I couldn't eat the cake, she thought I was allergic to chocolate or something, because I wouldn't tell her why. It makes me so mad to remember that...a 5 year old kid should feel guilty and miserable over a birthday cake.

  No, my parents weren't strict...not really, my mother was never really convinced and was a JW mostly because of my dad. (She's out now) But HE....he was more into guilt-triping us into obedience. Reading us bed-time stories from the yellow book EVERY night! How I hated that. I always wished that just once, he would read to us something normal. The thing is my dad was very nice to us, so I felt very bad at the thought of dissapointing him. I followed every rule and JW principles out of fear of making him sad.

  But I just hated it all, I suffered through boring family studies and endless meetings for 20 years before I dared to stand up for myself. How many times I have looked at the clock desperatly, waiting for something to be over. I was in a bad mood every Tuesday and Thursday and Saturday night enticipating the meetings...and every Friday night because I knew we would go door-to-door on Saturday. Not a happy teenager, all in all, and very alone.

  Oh! How I wanted to be abble to make a Halloween pumpkin, or a christmas tree, jus once! Needless to say, I don't miss one Holiday or birthday now. Nor a chance to completly decorate my appartement!
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  Nosferatu

  it was a girl's birthday and they brought her a big chocolate cake. I knew I wasn't to have any, but I was the very shy type of girl, so all I could do was start crying and when the teacher asked me why I cried (she was really puzzled, everyone was happy, of course) and I said I couldn't eat the cake, she thought I was allergic to chocolate or something, because I wouldn't tell her why.

  I can relate. I recall in Grade 2 on Valentine's day. I didn't give anyone Valentines, but I recieved a TON of them. The previous year I had brought home a bag full of Valentines and my mother gave me hell. This year, I took all the Valentines that I was given and threw them out in front of the entire class. This would have been a "good Witness", but it was really awful. One girl tried to comprimise by giving me a Valentine that was more like a puppet. Now that I look back on it, I think of how stupid it was. My kids will never have to go through that.
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  Lilycurly

  Woa! That sucks....lol. At least when I received stuff, be it from grand-parents or (rare) friends at school, my parents didn't say anything about it. (I got offended/sad looks from my dad...yeah.) but they didn't freak out. If *I* had done anything though, I can only imagine the humongus guilt-trip from hell I would have got from dad. Sheesh. Discreet control.
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  love2Bworldly

  Makes my blood boil to hear how some of you were treated as kids. My parents weren't Jdubs but they totally neglected me and my siblings and never said or did anything nice for me as a kid except on holidays.

  My way of getting back at my dysfunctional childhood is that I love my 3 kids more than anything in this world and I try to show it by the kind of mother I am.

  Sometimes I wish I could go back in time and do something nice for each of you when you were little, like beat up your parents for being so self-centered.