I feel a mix of anger and pity. At school when I pick my kids up I see Witnesses I used to mix with, and I often think about the "friends" who studied with me and introduced me to this organisation. And I feel a measure of pity and sorrow for them that they're still trapped, as I was for more than 20 years.
But then I figure, I had the brains to analyse and inspect my religion. I found the resources to do so. They just haven't. As the famous Walter Salter letter said, " 'A man who cannot think is an idiot, a man who won't think is a fool, and a man who is afraid to think is a coward.' I absolutely refuse to have any person do my thinking for me."
They can all choose to live their lives in submission to a group of old men who sit around a mahogany table in Brooklyn, or they can take control of their own lives. It's their choice.
Yet they continue to regard me with pity and contempt because I "slacked off" or "lost faith" or become "seduced by the world" or want to "enjoy the temporary pleasure of sin" or whatever lie they believe. Idiots.