This week’s show is a Deconversion Anonymous episode.

Julia tells her story of deconstructing the Jehovah’s Witnesses and the expected life of suburbia.

Julia was torn between two grandmothers: an evangelical and a Jehovah’s Witness. She became a Jehovah’s Witness and was all in. She got married and had kids and supported her husband who was an Elder. That is when the boredom set it. She wanted more, she wanted to travel and be a need-greater. Before they were to leave to Ecuador, her husband tragically died of cancer refusing blood transfusions along the way.

Julia’s life became messy as she started a long process of deconstruction. This included low-lights like having her children tell on her to the elders. And highlights going out on her own to travel and meet people’s needs with out dogma.

Today Julia is free. She kayaks, bikes and travels internationally. She says “I wake up every day thinking, ‘I love this world, and I love this life.'”

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Transcript

(1) My parents weren't religious at all, but both of my grandmothers were very religious.
One was Baptist, and the other was one of Jehovah's Witnesses. As a child, I didn't
realize they were both trying hard to influence me to be their religion. My parents had a
lot of issues, so my childhood was unstable and chaotic. My grandmothers' homes were
my safe havens. They both had a really positive impact on me and cultivated in me an
interest in spiritual things.
When I was with my Baptist Grandma, I went to her church. She paid for me to go to
Bible camp out of state every summer. I also went with her to the North American
Baptist triennial conferences throughout the 1980s, traveling to Niagara Falls in 1982,
Anaheim in ‘85, and Calgary in ‘88.
When I was with my Jehovah's Witness grandma, I went to the Kingdom Hall, which is
what they call their place of worship, and I attended Bible assemblies and conventions if
I was with her when they were going on.
(2) I'd always been curious about the Bible and religions. As a teenager in foster care, I
ended up living with a family who required me to attend church, so I started going to
their Catholic church. But when my Jehovah’s Witness aunt found out, she offered to
bring me to the Kingdom Hall instead. After a little while, her husband offered to study
the Bible with me. I brought a notebook full of questions to the first study. My uncle told
me they'd all be answered eventually in their study book, You Can Live Forever in
Paradise on Earth.
Through that Bible study, I was shocked to learn that Christmas wasn't in the Bible, God
had a name, and many holidays had pagan roots. I felt like I'd found "the truth." I took to
heart everything I learned and started to conform, including not celebrating birthdays
and holidays.
(3) The summer before 11th grade, I moved 200 miles away. A sister, which is the term
for a female member, from a local Kingdom Hall contacted me and offered rides to the
meetings at the Kingdom Hall. She picked up where I'd left off studying in the Live
Forever book. I started going out in field service, which is the door-to-door preaching
work. It was nerve wracking knocking on doors. I think a lot of people felt like I did,
hoping no one would be home or answer, so we could just tuck a tract or Watchtower or
Awake magazine in the door and move on so we could “get our time in.” Back then we
had to log our monthly hours and placements, but in November 2023, they stopped
requiring detailed reports.(4) At my high school, I met a boy from another congregation. We started talking a lot,
and we even arranged to be in some of the same classes. This caused panic in his
family because I wasn’t raised in the religion, I was “worldly.” Witnesses only date other
baptized Witnesses, and only with the intention of getting married.
By the summer after 11th grade, I had progressed to the point of getting baptized. My
Baptist grandma was so upset about it that she told me I was being removed from her
will.
Looking back, I think I gravitated toward the religion because I didn't want to end up like
my parents. As a welfare kid overseen by the state, I wanted to know how to have a
better life. The Witnesses guaranteed a better life now, and forever in the future.
(5) A year after graduating, when I was 18, we got married. It’s pretty common for
Jehovah's Witnesses to marry young because you can't have sex before marriage.
We had two children. My husband eventually became a ministerial servant, which is like
an assistant to an elder, and later he became an elder. We became a model family,
being interviewed and even acting out demonstrations on stage in front of thousands of
people at Bible assemblies and conventions.
(6) As a Witness, I lived in a bubble, associating only with other Witnesses. I tried hard
to be a good, submissive wife, and thankfully, my husband gave me a lot of freedom. He
owned a business, so I worked for him in our home office while homeschooling our kids.
As a mother, I was strict. I didn't want my kids contaminated by the world, so we rarely
watched TV or movies.
Our life revolved completely around the congregation. At that time we met a minimum of
four times a week, and with preparing, attending, and preaching, there was little time for
much else.
(7) Around 10 years in, boredom really set in during the meetings. There wasn't much
intellectual stimulation. To stay focused, I started taking incredibly detailed notes and
turned it into a game, trying to predict the scriptures the speaker would use next. I
actually got quite good at it because the same information was constantly recycled.In their literature and talks, we were often told we are the happiest people on earth. But
the truth was, I wasn't happy. I would wake up every single day thinking, “I hate this
world, and I hate this life.” But I had to shrug that thought off, and just power through the
day. I didn't know the term for it then, but I later learned that it was cognitive
dissonance.
(8) I wanted a different life. I dreamed about selling everything we owned and moving to
a foreign country. I felt inspired by stories of 'need-greaters,' which is what the
organization calls people who move to countries where there's a greater need for
preachers.
We applied to go to an international Bible convention in Ecuador, and I was thrilled
when we got accepted. I was trying to convince my husband to make it a month-long
trip, but shortly after, he was diagnosed with terminal cancer. So instead of Ecuador, he
was in the hospital recovering from surgery. He spent a total of months in the hospital,
and I stayed with him in the room.
Because my husband refused blood transfusions, the surgeon questioned his sanity
and ordered a psychiatric evaluation just to prove my husband was competent to refuse
blood. The surgeon was totally baffled by the logic, asking, 'If you'll take blood fractions,
why won't you take the donated whole blood they come from?' Hearing him try to
reason with my husband, I began to think, this doesn't make sense. But accepting a
blood transfusion is considered a serious sin, you would be disfellowshipped for, so
multiple surgeries proceeded without it, adding greatly to his suffering.
In March 2026, the Governing Body changed the rule on this. Members can now store
their own blood for later use, but you still cannot accept another person's blood.
Medically speaking, this policy change is practically useless. Stored blood expires within
a few weeks, so it won't help in an emergency. Plus, doctors can't draw blood from
someone who is already weak or fighting cancer. It is an extremely rare circumstance
where pre-storing your own blood would even be an option.
While in the hospital, family members came to visit. One of my in-laws said, 'We just
need the New System'—the term for a future paradise on earth after God slaughters
everyone who isn't a Witness during Armageddon. I had never focused on that; I was
more interested in the Bible’s practical advice for daily life. An anger blazed up in me,
and I yelled that the New System didn't solve anything for us right now. My husband
needed life-saving treatments today! They left shocked and shaken up.Long stays in the hospital actually brought relief from our obligations, like attending
meetings. When a couple of elders came to visit us in the hospital, they opened their
Bibles and read a scripture about “the God of all comfort.” Something in me just
snapped. I held up my Bible and yelled, “There isn't anything in this book that is going to
help my husband.” Then I threw my Bible across the room, almost hitting one of the
elders.
(9) After my husband passed away, I took my kids on a biblical tour through Turkey,
Greece, and finally Bulgaria, where we attended an international Bible convention.
When we got home, I decided to finally chase my dream of being a 'need-greater.' I
packed up the kids and we spent two months traveling through Colombia and Ecuador,
preaching. I remember crossing this raging river in Colombia on a wooden board
wedged between boulders, thinking, my ministry dreams have finally come true.
But back home, something really started to bother me. I was giving rides to a couple of
single moms who didn't have cars, and even delivering food shelf items to one whose
abusive husband had just left her. But I was criticized because they weren't “making
progress” in their Bible studies, which forced me to cut them off. It was so awkward and
painful, and they had no idea why. Having to cut off moms in crisis just because they
stopped “progressing” felt completely wrong.
(10) About a year after my husband died, I started feeling unstable. I was also having
distressing physical symptoms that I couldn't control. I confided in the elders, and I went
to doctors, but nothing helped. Then I started hanging out and drinking with Witnesses
who were judged “spiritually weak.” Prior to this, I had only drunk alcohol a handful of
times in my whole life.
My kids were suspicious of my unusual behavior, so they went on my phone, read
incriminating text messages, and told the elders. In Witness culture, we are taught to
narc on each other. My own kids were trained to be informants.
(11) After that, the elders asked to meet with us as a family. When they questioned me
alone, I didn't hesitate to tell them the truth. That’s when they told me they would form a
judicial committee—three elders who would decide whether or not I would be “removed
from the congregation.”I felt very guilty and was extremely sorry for what I did. But during my judicial meeting,
the elders pointed to their private book of procedures, Shepherd the Flock of God, and
told me I was not repentant. I was stunned. It was at this moment that I began to
question if the elders were led by God's spirit, because if they were, surely He would've
revealed to them I was truly sorry.
Sitting there, I told them that I felt like I was a wounded lamb being thrown to the
wolves. They just looked at me with blank faces. They wouldn't even conclude with a
prayer. The public announcement was made at the midweek meeting. After 27 years of
being a faithful Jehovah's Witness, I was expelled.
I've always felt like the elders were basically spiritual police officers. When I committed
a 'crime,' they sentenced me to a minimum of one year of solitary confinement. At a
time when I most needed support, I was cut off from everyone I knew since I was 16
years old. It was actually harder for me to deal with than the death of my husband,
because I was alive but everyone treated me like I was dead.
(12) And then, I dove head-first into a dumpster fire. I became what one relative
described as a “hot mess.” And it was a messy, chaotic, but also transformative couple
of years.
Being thrown into “the world” against my will was a very disorienting experience. It was
a massive learning curve for me because I was naive and culturally clueless. My religion
was my whole identity. I didn't even know how to talk to people in the world.
There were a handful of Witnesses who secretly kept in contact with me. But I quickly
learned some were living double lives. One sister “helped” me by introducing me to
people at bars, which was a pretty wild place to start for someone as sheltered as I was.
It was really weird to me that some Witnesses started confiding in me about the
‘naughty’ things they were doing. It's like I became a human confessional for the
underground Witnesses.
During these years, I made many trips to Central and South America, bringing large
suitcases full of things for poor communities. I created “people projects” that I didn't
consciously realize at the time were fulfilling my need to feel needed. It felt wonderful to
help people without an underlying agenda.
(13) After one year, I wanted to get accepted back so I resumed attending every
meeting, and while being shunned, no one there would even crack a smile at me. To get
reinstated as a member, I had to meet with the same elders that disfellowshipped me.I was nervous about meeting with them because I was still struggling with some things.
But to my relief, they decided I would be reinstated. I was also in disbelief. It struck me
again that the elders could not be divinely guided because I didn't feel like I should be
reinstated!
When the announcement was made, I felt flat. The second the meeting ended, all these
people who treated me like I was dead for 2 years suddenly rushed up to me. I just
wanted to bolt. I ended up leaving the state to spend time with a terminally ill relative,
which was a perfect excuse to get away.
(14) I was still having conversations with people about the Bible, and because of me a
couple of people started going to the Kingdom Hall. One even started studying with an
elder. But after a couple months, he shocked me by saying that the “best thing that
could happen to me was getting kicked out again, because the religion was toxic.”
My knee-jerk response was, “No way, I do not want that to happen.” I didn't want to be
cut off from my adult children—they were what I cared about the most.
After this, the elders wanted to meet up with me. Because I was traveling frequently, it
was put off. Eventually, I ended up in a group-text with three elders who were trying to
pin me down on a day that would work. I was checking my calendar, and one elder
accidentally replied to the entire group instead of texting the others privately. The
message said, “Don't tell her what we want to talk to her about.” I was shocked. It felt
like I was trying to be trapped. I immediately blocked all their numbers.
Then, a painful dismantling began. I had suffocated doubts for so long. All the little
things I had filed away for years began to surface. Comments householders made to
me. Things acquaintances said. Statements made in a memoir I read a decade prior
about a girl escaping an extreme Mormon cult. How I'd always felt about shunning and
the procedure for handling child sexual abuse. The rule about not going to university.
The intolerance for questioning policies, interpretations or rules. Learning the parallels
between Christianity, ancient Egyptian beliefs, and Greek mythology—ironically on a
tour of the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York given by a Jehovah's Witness. I
admitted to myself that I didn't like the cruel, jealous, violent God of the Bible. The
scales fell off about Jesus, Mary, and Paul. And I thought about the Witnesses who
were quietly breaking the rules in private, because they are afraid of losing all their
friends and family.Other things came to mind too. I wondered if my Jehovah's Witness grandma even
really loved having me around, or was she just logging field service hours? Was that my
aunt's motivation, and the others who studied the Bible with me? I began to wonder if all
the love and friendship I was ever shown were merely out of duty.
Deconstructing felt like trying to get out of a straightjacket. I was wrestling with many
upsetting thoughts and conclusions, but I was also trying to rebuild who I wanted to be.
A moment of self-realization happened when I was playing a question card game, the
kind you use for icebreakers. I pulled a card that read, “When you look in the mirror,
what kind of person do you see?” I just stared at that card, and felt a longing to get back
to the person I was at heart. From that moment on, I started living authentically, without
the dogma.
Then my kids started pulling away. I kept reaching out, staring at unanswered texts and
emails. The thing is, I actually taught them to be motivated by religious rules, not love.
One time, I stopped by my daughter's place, and she told me not to show up
unannounced again. I thought it was really ironic for a Jehovah's Witness to say that.
What helped me the most to deal with the painful rejection was a book by Dr. Joshua
Coleman, The Rules of Estrangement.
To sort things out, I journaled a lot, went to therapy and had some sessions with
someone familiar with Jehovah's Witnesses. I learned phrases like love-bombing,
religious trauma, complex PTSD, and high-control religion. I read books and listened to
podcasts about people going through faith crises. And I came to realize, the
unhappiness I felt as a Witness had layers. It wasn't just about a heavy religion. I didn't
like living the typical suburban life script. Solo life is where I thrive.
Being shunned helped me learn so many things about myself, Christianity as a whole,
and the world. After years, I finally arrived at this wonderful state of being: indifferent.
I lost a lot of labels that identified me, but I don't care to acquire new ones. If you ask
me what I believe… I believe life is amazing. I don't need to accept any of the current
answers to questions man has been trying to figure out since the beginning of recorded
history. I don't need a blueprint to appreciate a house. I'm fascinated by science and
nature, and I'm deeply grateful to be alive.Today, I live completely aligned with my values—basically like a Christian, but without
the branding. I still find value in the Bible too. Off the religious treadmill, my time is my
own. I do things I truly enjoy—reading and writing, being in nature, studying plants,
observing wildlife, kayaking, and biking. I still travel internationally and stay involved in
“people projects,” but these days, I spend more of my time traveling all over the USA in
my self-built camper van. I feel so much peace and contentment.
I now have friends who love me for who I am, not out of obligation or for what I believe.
It's amazing to me that even though we think or feel differently on subjects that can
divide a whole nation, they just acknowledge our differences and we remain friends. I
learned how to exchange ideas rather than try to convince someone to think or feel the
same way I do. And, I'm a lot less judgmental than I used to be. Now, I have more
empathy, compassion, and understanding for people, inside and outside of the religion.
Personal autonomy is a foreign concept to Jehovah's Witnesses. The religion dictates
how you dress, how you speak, who you can love, and what you are allowed to think.
But now I live completely autonomously, and it feels so liberating. I wake up every day
thinking, “I love this world, and I love this life.”
❤️❤️❤️