Almost Happily Ever After

It's been a weird week. (I know, I say that a lot.) But it's true!

Last weekend, I met a writer who wants to write an article on my story. Great idea, right? This is exactly what I want, more people reading about my crazy life experiences. It really can't hurt my campaign to get a book deal, become an author, get my story out there, start a non-profit organization for people like me who need support. All great ideas in theory and I've been plugging away at the journey on weekends and evenings when I'm not too tired from work or too busy with school.

So when she asked me if I would do it, of course I said yes. As much as I've been trying to repair things with my mom and sister, this project has been the end game all along. Ever since I decided to walk away from the Witnesses. I have to stress the fact here that this has nothing to do with retaliation. It's taken a long time, a lot of crying, anger, fear, guilt, therapy...but I honestly don't have anything but love for most of them. Most (I won't say all, because every religious group has it's good and bad eggs) of them are just as sincere as I was when I was there. They are good people, who believe that they are doing the right things in life to win God's approval and in the end, everlasting life.

I have no problem with that. We each must follow our path. I do however, feel that there should be information and resources available to those who are raised that way, not knowing anything else, who decide to lead a different life, make different choices. In a lot of ways, those people are just as alone when they walk away as refugees in a new country, starting over in a strange world where nothing makes sense, you don't speak the language and you are alone.

I was lucky enough to have some family outside of the religion and somewhere to go when I needed to seek refuge. Not all of us are that lucky. I have other friends who weren't. And it was only through sheer will, determination, and some luck on their part that they were able to rebuild a life of their own.

I don't believe us "deserters" are the only victims though. I sincerely feel sympathy for the ones we leave behind, who may miss their children or family members or friends, but are told by someone else they can't have anything to do with them. As much as their actions hurt us, their actions hurt themselves too. But they honestly feel there's no other option. Another thing that hurts my heart, for them, is the way they view everything in this life as so unimportant - it's all about just persevering through to the next life, just getting there. So give it up: having a family, a career, an education, a nice home, a comfortable life. The only way to the "new system" is through sacrificing all these things. It's possible they are right. It's also possible their destination is not even a reality. So why live a life fighting so hard and sacrificing so much to get there?

Back to my story. I made an appointment with the writer for Wednesday. I talk tough all the time now. I go through life feeling like I'm Sarah from Labyrinth (yes, I'm old!) when she finally confronts David Bowie as the goblin king and says: "You have no power over me." I realized something this week though, it's a secret, but I'll share it with you: they do still have some power over me. As I made lists in my mind of pros and cons and all the ways the Witnesses could possibly retaliate to my apostacy (because that's how it will be viewed if I ever say anything openly), I was sure I could handle it. But then on Tuesday, the panick attacks came back. And then the nightmares. I thought about cancelling our meeting and running away from the whole thing.

But I didn't. :)

I truly believe some of us are born with a purpose. If I could go back, would I have wanted to grow up the way I did, in a religion I would eventually get kicked out of and become shunned by everyone I loved? No. It almost killed me. But with thousands of people becoming JWs each year in Canada, and a zero percent increase rate of members year after year, I know there are thousands of people also getting kicked out who need help. And a voice.

Even though it scares the shit out of me, I know I'm strong enough to do this. So after the interview, the panic attacks went away again. I feel happier and more at peace than I have in a long, long time. It probably helps that work is going well, school is almost over, I have amazing friends who support whatever I choose to do, and perhaps the cutest guy I ever met sending me sweet messages every day from Austria. This is a success story. And that's the reason I should tell it. To pass along the hope that no matter how dark it gets, there is light on the other side. So don't give up.