Okay, so I am new to the site, but I have been following ur threads for awhile now, and I am finding great comfort in them! No, I am not a witness and I have never been, and never will be! I did however, date a witness for about three years.
It was our typical 357th biweekly 'man hating' girls night out, and meeting Mr. Right was the last thing on my mind! I met him at a bar and something about him instantly caught my attention. Feeling bold I marched right up to him, eyed him playfully and somehow managed a free drink. About an hour or so into conversation we decided to leave and go dancing at another bar up the road. We spent the evening dancing and laughing and I got all my drinks for free! Whoo hoo! Bonus! I couldnt explain my odd attraction to him, and I still to this day cant quite put my finger on it. It definitely wasnt his over gelled hair, but he just seemed so innocent.
Needless to say, we started dating. We were the couple that made you both envious and want to vomit at the same time. We would spoon feed eachother our desserts and eskimo kiss in the corner booths of restuarants. yeah, we were in disgusting pathetic love! There was so much about him that I couldnt quite put my finger on. He was like a little mystery. I remember after a few "disappearing" acts I began to wonder if maybe he was married. I did actually Google him, and found that nope, he was indeed single. He admitted to me he was a 28 year old virgin about a month into dating. I assumed it was some feeble attempt to get a piece. "Righhttt..." "Me too" I responded sarcastically. When he put his head down and fell silent I realized he was being honest. Oops. I was never good at the whole sensitive thing. We continued dating, and the thing I liked about him the most was there was so much he hadn't experienced. One summer night we were talking about how gorgeous of a night it was. I had made some comment about skinny dipping and he stated he hadn't ever done it. "What?!" I responded in shock. "Get in the car." I drove him to my favorite lake, and I could see the nervousness spread across his face. "I bet you dont have the guts do you?" I taunted. Feeling gutsy I got out of the car and stripped to the water. Certainly he didnt want to be seen as lame-o boy. He soon followed. I felt somewhat triumphant to be the first person he ever skinny dipped with. There were so many experiences he had never done.
We continued dating, and one night I was trying my best to make a hot move on him. He literally shoved me off of him, and I halfway fell off the bed. Feeling like a reject I became really irritated, and somewhat embarrassed. "I cant do this" he kept repeating. "Alright, what gives?" I asked. "What are you some religious freak or something?" He responded slowly. Really slowly. Like the worlds slowest response ever in the history of responses. "Wellllll... if I was religious... what kind of religion do you think I would be?" I stared at him blankly for a second. " I dunno... Catholic or somethin'" His body language slumped and he wouldnt look me in the eye. "Actually, I am a Jehovahs Witness." The room feel silent for a minute. That was the last religion I would have ever guessed! I responded with a few knock knock whose there...YOU ARE jokes and when he didnt laugh, I realized he was being honest about that too. "Well, if you ever knocked on a door where you hear a growly voice yell 'get em' to the dogs followed by a "Get off my property..." thats prolly my parents house I teased. With that, I fixed my hair in the dresser mirror and left the room. I didnt know anything about the witnesses, and to be completely honest, I didnt really care that he was one. I was raised to be liberal in my beliefs of others.To me it does not matter what religion, race, ethnicity, or sexual preference you are. There is good people in each category just as much as there is bad people. I measure a person by the more important things like honesty, integrity, and loyalty.
We continued dating, and about a year into our relationship I had stolen his "V" card. We talked about running off together and getting married. I had never met his friends or his family, but I was so naive and in love with this boy that i didnt stop and really think about how bizarre that was. His family lived a few hours away, so I just assumed that one day we would meet.
About three months after my long awaited conquer, I found out I was pregnant. Our late nights of talking about running off and getting married and living happily ever after instantly stopped. In the three words "Um, Im pregnant" our relationship went from amazing to non existant. He informed me that "This child will be a witness and there is nothing that I could do about it." I didnt really know what that meant, but I was about to find out. I began researching the hell out of their beliefs. I remember the first night I actually sat down and took a hard look at their practices. I literally became ill and threw up in the toilet. I had only scratched the surface of their bizarre, sad, and twisted doctrines, rules, policies and procedures, and I had already become an anxiety ridden mess. It explained alot though. The disappearing, the seperating me from family/friends, the virginity. It all started to make sense.
Needless to say, he was disfellowshipped when word got around our small town. He bailed on me completely, and I was picking up the pieces of my heart off the floor. The stress caused me to almost miscarry, and as I sat in my car hemorraging blood, I called him and left a vm that i needed him to help me to the hospital. For a week I didnt hear from him. He had no idea if I was okay, or if our baby survived. I called him to let him know a week later. Emotional cuts like this kept coming. I was still very much in love with him and confused by his actions. He could no longer have contact with his friends and family, and he was so consumed with guilt that all he could think about was getting reinstated. I was still full of anxiety and fear for our baby. What kind of life would it have? He bounced in and out of my life, (I think he honestly figured, Hey! They cant get pregnant twice!) and always let him back because I truly wanted him to be there for me.
Our daughter was born, and he was still disfellowshipped. His mother was also a witness, however she was the only one excited about being a grandma. While she couldnt come and see her until he was re-instated she reasssured him constantly that "Jehovah will let you out of your room very soon." Finally, when the elders decided not to reinstate him, she decided to come down and meet her new granddaughter anyway. A brazen move considering her husband is an elder. She planned to come visit the following Monday. She was ecstatic, and I think it somehow it made him feel better about his disfellowshipping. That Friday night, his mother died. She never met her granddaughter, had not talked to her son in over a year, and was the only person in his family excited for him. He was devestated, and rightfully so. On her desk were the outfits she planned to bring with her, and on her calander was a star sticker on monday with circles around it.
The elders immediately held a meeting to determine if he should be allowed to attend his own mothers funeral considering he was still disfellowshipped. They decided that yes, he could attend the funeral, but the funeral only. No gatherings at the family house, or anything like that was he to attend. He sat at home by himself the day the rest of the family got together for their own gathering. He cried in my arms and I had a newfound hatred for the organization like no other. I hated what they were doing to him, it was so evil and willful and done with such pleasure and sickening ease that to me they were the devil. I lost any and all respect for the organization that day. Watching him go through everything he went through, blaming himself the whole time as to why he couldnt be there with his family was absolutely astounding.
This experience has caused me to grow tremendously in terms of "gettin right with God." Faith to me has nothing to do with placing into the hands of men. While after his reinstatement he admitted to me he wanted out, whether or not he leaves is a big unknown. For now, I am there for him, waiting. And, for now and forever, my priority is to protect my daughter from their bizarre cruel doctrines. I sometimes wonder if he will ever gain the courage to leave, but I do find alot of comfort reading about everyones stories on here. It gives me a reassurance that maybe there is hope for him.
