I grew up as a Jehovah’s Witness, fully believing that I was part of the one true faith. Baptized at 15, I genuinely wanted to serve God and please my family. As I got older, I became passionate about my faith and even enjoyed debating with non-believers. I thought I had all the answers. But as time went on, nagging questions started to creep in—questions I couldn’t ignore.
At first, I tried to defend my beliefs. I dug deeper, studied harder, and prayed fervently for guidance. I even reached out to the elders for answers, hoping they could help ease my doubts. What I got instead was a pep talk that didn’t address any of my concerns. Over time, more issues surfaced—historical inaccuracies, failed prophecies, and doctrinal contradictions. No matter how much I wanted to believe, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.
When my wife and I finally decided to leave, it was one of the hardest decisions of our lives. We knew what it would cost us—our family, our friends, our entire social circle. But we couldn’t continue living a lie. We wrote a letter explaining our reasons and handed it to an elder we trusted. In the days that followed, our worst fears came true. We lost everyone. Friends we had known for years cut us off without so much as a conversation. Even my parents, who had always been loving and supportive, told us they couldn’t have any contact with us anymore. It broke my heart.
I tried one last time to reason with them. I drove to their house with my Bible, hoping to show them that there was no scriptural basis for abandoning us. But they wouldn’t listen. Instead, they accused me of abandoning them. It felt surreal—I was the one pleading for a relationship, and yet they were turning their backs on me. When my mom asked if they could still see our kids, I told her, “We’re a package deal. You can’t separate us like that.”
Walking away from everything we had ever known was devastating. We lost not only our community but also the people we loved most. Despite the pain, I don’t regret leaving. My conscience is clear, and I finally feel at peace knowing I’m living in truth. My wife and I are doing our best to rebuild our lives, find new friends, and give our kids a better future—one free from fear and control.
Mandated shunning is more than just a personal decision. It’s a cruel practice enforced by high-control religious groups, tearing apart families and isolating people who dare to think differently. My story is just one example of why this practice is so harmful—and why it’s time to fight for laws that protect people from such inhumane treatment.