It's Not Always Easy

Not every day is rosy. But, I’m one of the lucky ones. 

I miss them a lot right now. I have had so many dreams about them this week. They were such an important part of who I have become. Now, they won’t even look at me. I bring them shame. I am worthy of death in their eyes.

They taught me things I still use to this day. Of course, they also taught me things I don’t even want to think about. But, I learned from them. I love them.

We used to laugh, play, and plan for the future together. But, I looked in another direction and they moved on.

It doesn’t matter how well-adjusted you are to life outside the Jehovah’s Witness religion. There are going to be times when the loss of personal connections to those you love catches up to you. For me, it seems to happen when things are going really well. It’s as if my brain knows that I’m strong enough to process something that would overwhelm me on any other day. That’s when I get blasted with memories.

This week was the five year anniversary of the death of one of my closest friends. When we met, I was five, her older sister was three, and she was two. We three became inseparable. Our families mixed so tightly that I viewed her parents as my backup Mom and Dad. I love them all. She passed away from cancer five years ago this week. 

I cry every year on her anniversary. It’s not just because of losing her. It’s because I’ve lost them all. While I sleep, I dream of them voicing their disappointment and trying to convince me to come back. It’s tempting. I want to feel that familiar warmth of kinship with them. I long to be with people that know the history of who I was as a kid, a teen, a young adult. Those dreams hurt all day.

But, then I wake up and my Yorkie licks my face to tell me it’s time to go outside. My beautiful wife stirs beside me and reminds me of my new family. I sit in the backyard for a while and look at our rock garden, the trees, the deer that love to sleep nearby. I realize that I am all right. Everything is going to be okay.

I hear my wife preparing her coffee in our unusually loud Kuerig. I wipe a few extra tears from my face before my wife sees them. She joins me on the back porch and we talk about the day to come. She asks me how I slept and I’m not sure how to answer. I don’t want to sound ungrateful for the world we have created together. I don’t want her to think I want to be anywhere but right here, right now.

“Fine. I slept fine.”

She smiles. We kiss. We move on with our day.

This is what the pain of being shunned is like. Imagine missing out on everything about the lives of those you’ve loved since you were born. You aren’t invited to weddings, anniversary celebrations, or graduations. You aren’t told when your parents, siblings, or other family members have health issues. Sometimes, you aren’t told when a loved one passes away. Usually, you are not allowed to come to the funeral. 

In their eyes, you have chosen a different path. You have abandoned God. You are on the broad road to destruction. So, they treat you as if you are already dead.

I understand why they do it. I used to do it too. I’m guilty of acting the same way to my own sister. And, I carry that shame too.

The problem is the policy, not the people. If this policy was lifted, I know I would have all of them back in my life. If it wasn't required by the religion, they would never choose to leave me. I know they love me.

As much as I enjoy my freedom now and love the family that has adopted me, this is a pain I expect to have for the rest of my life. I am two people, the Jehovah’s Witness and the “worldly person”. People either know one or the other. Few have been around for the whole ride and really understand who I am.

How many of us that have left the religion end up feeling split in two? How often do we wake up mourning the losses and aching silently all day? How many feel tempted to deny our true self and slip back into the religion so we can feel familiar souls touching ours?

Unless an organization that has no motivation to change decides to reverse their shunning policy, this is something we’re all going to have to live with. That’s the sad truth. 

This is why it is so crucial to create a new social network after leaving. Reach out to people in the Facebook groups for ExJWs. Look for Meetup groups in your area. Get phone numbers when you meet others that have been in the religion. Connect with someone that you feel supported by. There are options and it is dangerous to stay alone. We need each other because we understand each other.

Look for the new joys in life. Find new relationships that inspire you. Build a family that supports you. Become the person you have always wanted to be.

Loss isn’t everything.