Do You Even Believe This is ‘The Truth?’
My father’s best friend hurled the question at me, his voice dripping with contempt. It was an afterthought at the very end of a Judicial Committee meeting.
“Do you even believe this is ‘The Truth?’”
I’d known him all my life, but he’d never spoken to me with such disgust.
I paused, inhaling deeply. Time seemed to stretch as I considered my answer. I knew it was a crossroads choice: live a lie to make my family happy or live with integrity and watch my world disintegrate.
“I’m not sure what I believe,” I responded (honestly).
It wasn’t just an answer—it was a declaration. I didn’t know where I was going, but I knew it wasn’t back.
Leaving Isn’t Designed to Feel Like a Choice
Walking away from Jehovah’s Witnesses isn’t just hard—it’s excruciating. The obvious challenges, like shunning, are only the surface. Beneath lies a web of guilt, shame, and indoctrination that’s hard to untangle.
Have you ever heard a Witness acknowledge that someone might leave for honorable reasons? I haven’t. Leaving is always framed as selfish, immoral, or the result of Satan’s influence. The idea that someone might simply stop believing? That doesn’t compute.
The language itself used to describe leaving is very deliberate: “Abandoning Jehovah” or “betraying” both God and family. Those words cut deep. You’re not just leaving a religion; you’re cast as a traitor who is the cause of their family’s heartbreak. It’s no wonder so many feel trapped.
Jehovah’s Witnesses love to claim, “Jehovah gives everyone free will to serve him or not.” But how free is your will when the stakes are losing everyone you love or pretending to believe things you don’t?
That’s not choice. It’s coercion.
Shunning: Emotional Blackmail Disguised as “Love”
Shunning is framed as “loving discipline,” but it’s emotional blackmail, plain and simple. Relationships are weaponized to enforce conformity, and if someone refuses to comply? They’re shunned too.
Believing you’ve hurt your family just by wanting your own life is devastating, but that guilt doesn’t belong to you. You didn’t write the rules; the Watchtower did. You didn’t decide that leaving equals betrayal; they did. And most of us didn’t even choose to be part of the organization in the first place.
I was 11 years old when I made the monumental mistake of getting baptized. At 11, I couldn’t even pick my own dinner or bedtime. Yet decades later, I’m judged for a childhood decision warmly encouraged by the very same people who later shunned me for it.
Truth Withstands Scrutiny
One day, while wrestling with whether to leave, I flipped open an old Watchtower volume, vaguely hoping for a sign. The subheading I landed on read: “The Dangers of Independent Thought.”
That was it: my sign. You could tell me what to wear, what to watch, who I could be friends with or how to spend my Saturdays. But you couldn’t tell me I wasn’t allowed to think for myself. That was my hard line.
Truth withstands scrutiny; lies don’t. The moment you’re told you absolutely cannot question something, that’s when you should start.
It Gets Better
Leaving is a process, not a single event. It’s messy and complicated, but also profoundly freeing. Over time, the pain fades. You learn that you are not the cause of others’ pain because you expect to make your own decisions about your life.
Therapy helps, and many communities offer affordable options if you’re struggling financially. Online communities can connect you with other people who understand. It may be a fringe experience, but you’re not the only one who’s had it.
In over 40 years out, I’ve never regretted my decision to leave. I’ve had to examine the guilt and feelings of being a disappointment up close and learn that pain was never about me. The challenges taught me to value freedom, unconditional love, and respect for others’ choices. I wouldn’t trade the person I’ve become for anything. (But I didn’t need the trauma to be a good person.)
When my father’s friend asked if I believed it was “The Truth,” my honest answer changed my life. It was terrifying in the moment, but it set me free.
Today, I know my answer with absolute certainty: I choose truth. Real truth, not the artificial kind. Not because it’s easy, but because it’s mine—and I don’t feel guilty for it. I did nothing wrong by making the same decisions about how I want to live my family made about their own lives.
And you are doing nothing wrong, either. Eventually, you’ll even convince yourself of this. ♥
