M
MistyF
Guest
I was 8 when I began going to the Kingdom Hall. I truly loved God, and I did everything to please Him. I didn’t do it because Mom made me, I did it because it was what I believed I should do, and I wanted to share my faith with everyone else, to save them. I struggled for Him, I stayed away from “worldly influences” and began Pioneering (I was home-schooled).
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My sister was a few months old when Mom became a JW, and she was a shining example of how JW kids should be raised. She answered at meetings from the time she could talk, she was brave and told people when they did something wrong, and when she was asked why she didn't do birthdays or Christmas she proclaimed that they were bad, and would even explain why. I remember her crying because she was too sick to go to meetings sometimes.
When I was a teenager, I had problems with my Mom, for various reasons. Partly just normal teen issues with parents, partly that she and I were so alike that we fought, partly that she was so strict. She will even tell you now that she went overboard with it. She was afraid to let me talk to anyone, to do anything, to even have a normal semblance of privacy. When I was 15, she married another JW, and he was a jerk. Well, he was more than a jerk, but I'll keep it clean. We had lived in a small town up to this point, and then we moved to a big town (comparably). For the first time, I had friends. Lots of them. They, of course, were all JWs. I turned 16 somewhere in here. Things were getting unbearable at home. Mom's husband was very controlling of everything, and Mom submitted to his demands, as a "submissive wife" that the JWs value so much. I had a job for 3 years prior to this move, and I wanted a job when we moved, so I could save for a car. He said I could only work with him at his job, because otherwise I would be in danger of worldly association. I eventually was able to talk them into letting me have a job. I got a full-time job where I had a company car (because I had to run errands between offices). It was very high paying for my age, and the type of work. I loved it! Of course, I still spent lots of time doing the "witnessing work", and did everything right.
About this time, I went to a JW youth party, and met a great guy. He was a ministerial servant (a position of responsibility within the congregation, though not an elder), and I knew he was the kind of guy that I would want, and that Mom would approve of. Except for one thing. Even though I was approaching 17 years old, I was not allowed to date. Not even in social situations only. But, I really liked him. So, I decided that if I was "adult and responsible" about the situation, that I might have a chance. I sat Mom and her husband down, and explained how great he was, and pointed out things like that he was a ministerial servant, and so were all his friends, etc. I told them I knew they thought I was too young to date, and that if they would let me, I would follow all the rules. That I would only see him in social situations, going out in groups, etc. I wouldn't even ask to go on an actual date. To my surprise, they both said ok, and asked to meet him. I was elated!
So, he and his friend drove down (they lived about 90 minutes away) to meet my mom and her husband (J). As soon as they sat down, Mom and J tore into him, about how awful he was for wanting to date someone so young, and how the Watchtower Society disapproved of it. I was broken hearted. They told me not to see him again, not to talk to him. Well, that was just too much for me. I lived in a place where I didn't have a bedroom - they strung a curtain across the dining room for my room, because we lived in a two bedroom apartment, and there were three of us kids. And I was the lucky one, because I got my own room - my younger sister and brother had to share. There are more details I could put in here, but in the interest of saving time, I won't. I began to talk to him without their knowledge, wrote letters, and eventually a friend of mine went to a movie with me, and he met us there - and we *gasp* held hands. He didn't even try to kiss me, which really made me know that I was right about him. The next day, I came home and thought I was alone. I called a friend and told her about the night before, and then my brother came out from behind the couch and I was caught.