Sian: Coming out and leaving a high-control religion - Part 1: Growing up
In this three-part series, Sian shares her personal experience of growing up as a Jehovah’s Witness in North Wales, coming to understand her sexuality, and ultimately leaving her religion. This is Sian’s own story and reflects her experiences and perspective.
My name is Sian. I grew up as a Jehovah’s Witness in North Wales. I am the fifth of six children in a devout Jehovah’s Witness family. Early on in my life, I knew I was different. At that young age, I didn’t yet understand how or why, but little did I know it was going to change the trajectory of my life. This is my story of coming out, leaving my religion and how that was the best decision I ever made. It does get better!
Being a part of the Jehovah’s Witnesses it not just a hobby. It is a way of life. It consumes everything. This is especially true of my parents. They have, and continue, to dedicate their lives to serving the religion. Their dedication is a trait that I admire in them. They both have strong personalities and unwavering faith… even if I do not hold their opinions.
Growing up, my Dad was an Elder and held various other positions within the congregation. He was also a part of the Regional Building Committee which was responsible for the building and maintenance of our places of worship called Kingdom Halls. My Mum was a Pioneer and dedicated 70 hours each month to knocking on doors and preaching. In addition, she volunteered in many other ways. My siblings were all very involved in the religion and followed closely in my parents’ footsteps as they grew up and dedicated their own lives to the religion.
As a young Jehovah’s Witness, we were required to attend 3 meetings per week. Tuesday night book study for one hour, Thursday night meeting for two hours, and a Sunday morning meeting for two hours. Each meeting came with its own pre-reading and preparation. Saturday morning was expected to be dedicated to going out and knocking on doors, preaching to our neighbours and community as a family.
This way of life was considered normal in our family and amongst our friends. Of course, this was all voluntary. None of it was a paid job, and most activities were self-funded. They viewed it as ‘storing up treasures in heaven’, and this was enough of a payment.
From an early age, I had questioned this lifestyle. I was different to my family. I was a ‘Tom Boy’, and girls in our religion were treated different to boys. This bothered me. I was required to wear skirts or dresses to every meeting and to go preaching. I found this humiliating and dreaded having one my peers from school seeing me dressed like that. The boys also had far more opportunities than the girls. Only men could hold positions within the congregations. Boys would be allowed to do the more interesting jobs at the meetings, such as control the sound system or use the microphones. Things that I was never allowed to do. Men and boys could give talks and do Bible readings at the meeting, but the women and girls were only allowed to give demonstrations. I found it so frustrating that I hadn’t been born a boy! All I wanted to do was play football and do all the things that boys were allowed to do. Even my mother, the strong willed, amazingly independent woman who would stand up to anyone, was not allowed to give talks even though she knew her Bible inside out. She was a talented DIYer and yet always seen as underqualified to be equal to the men… men who were often not very good at their jobs. I hated seeing my mother treated like this, and I hated that I did not have equal opportunities in my life. Despite my feelings around this, I knew that there would be no way of changing it, so I made the most of what was in front of me.
Growing up in my congregation, I was fortunate to have a good community and friends that were my own age. This was important because we were not allowed to socialise with people outside of our religion outside of school hours. My mother was very good at making sure that we had opportunities to visit other friends in other congregations, and we would go on holidays most years with large groups of Jehovah’s Witnesses. I have many fond memories of these times and had close friendships from a young age.
As I grew up and read my Bible and the other publications from the religion, I would ask questions. The spoken mantra of the religion is that you question everything. ‘Make the truth your own’, they would say. However, I found that when I questioned, I was not being given answers that satisfied my curiosities. I was often told that I should already know the answers to these questions. The internet was seen as a place of lies and deceit used by Satan to misguide you, so it was a very dangerous place.
Accepting that I was probably never going to find answers that satisfied my doubts, I decided the best course of action was going to be to follow in my family’s footsteps and throw myself into the religion. I studied their publications thoroughly, attended the meetings, went on the ministry, and spent all my spare time with my close friends in the religion.
Eventually, I was reaching an age where you were questioned about baptism. This was not forced, however there are expectations that as a young adult you would take this step. Baptism symbolises your lifelong dedication to the religion. A decision that can never be undone. It is a sacred promise between you and Jehovah. I was 16 when my baptism took place. I remember saying – ‘I may as well, because if I leave, I will lose my whole family and will never do that’. I had worked hard to push those doubts deep down into a box inside my brain and took the plunge.
I regretted it instantly.
The day of my baptism should have been one of the most important events in my life. People buy you gifts, you write the date in your Bible, we went out for a lovely meal. I knew it had been a mistake. Something I should have been proud of. I didn’t tell my school friends that I had been baptised. I hoped that they would never find out. Another person from my year group had been baptised to a different religion and they were so proud of it. I was ashamed.
Sian found support through Faith to Faithless, a group supporting those leaving high-control religious environments with a phoneline and online groups. If you have been affected by the content of this story, you can take a look at Faith to Faithless and the resources on our support page.