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Growing up, nearly two decades as a JW
In 1978 my parents met. My mother wasn't a witness, my father was. They married one year later. In the nine years between their marriage and my birth, my mom entered "The Truth". Now, my first several years were pretty normal, or as normal as it can be for a kid being raised as a witness. You know, entering school, being ridiculed for not celebrating holidays or birthdays, not standing for the national anthem, being the butt of the joke because I was seen in a suit in field service at a fellow classmates house. It never really bothered me by the time I was in third grade. However, something always seemed off about myself.
Now, growing up, I had always been a jack of all trades, but I didn't gravitate initially towards generally masculine hobbies, so more ridicule insued from my school mates, and some ridicule from people within the congregation. Around sixth grade, I had definitely realized something was off. At this point in my life, not only did I find myself attracted to girls, but also found myself wishing I was developing the same way as they were. I had started a diary, but my father had found it and scribbled out the word diary and wrote in journal. This is what set me down the long road I've been on for so long.
In eighth grade, I had written a "journal" entry, begging any higher power, be it god, the devil, or anything, to change me. I despised my body, and wanted to be a woman. Well, while I was at school (my dad worked from home in our basement at that point), my father went snooping through my room and found my journal again. (Is it obvious yet why I didn't trust my parents with my thoughts enough to communicate directly with them?) He read that journal entry, drove directly to my school, pulled me out of class, took me home, and began to berate me for the next three hours until my brother got home from his senior year internship. Now, my father generally censored himself, and even though he was berating me, it was more so religious rhetoric, never derogatory names used towards me. However, I knew exactly how he felt, he didn't want a sinner in his house. (It wasn't until just last year when I found out exactly why he did this, it was simply my perception at the time.)
That summer, I forced all of my feelings down, redoubled my efforts to just push through and be a good son. Now, I took up several things that at the time were considered to be "masculine". I started teaching myself networking (and got myself in trouble with local law enforcement over my dealings with the school I went to), took up bowling, tried golf, and tried to hang out with some of the other boys of my congregation. I started going out in field service without my parents, going to meetings with elders and their families, trying to set myself on the path my parents wanted me to go down. (I'm specifically not getting into my mother's portion of this yet.)
Now, starting the winter bowling season of my sophomore year, I had reaffirmed the fact that I was definitely attracted to girls, something that has been in question because for a long time I hadn't actually exhibited signs of sexual interest (I actually had, but was rejected by the two girls I had liked that I found to be intelligent). I professed my feelings for a girl, and was one again rejected, and I didn't take it well. I feel into a well of depression. I was hospitalized the day after my first bowling match against our total school.
By this time, my brother had left "the truth", and it was causing me to question EVERYTHING about what was going on in my family. I noticed my brother and father growing closer than I had ever been with my father, and I found it odd because the congregation elders had told my parents to disassociate from my brother. My mother seemed to be the only person heading the directions of the elders, and I didn't really understand their directions anyways. Since my dad was still talking to my brother, I continued to do so as well. The elders took notice of all of this, and for the next year lectured me about the need for me to throw my burdens on God. (Dude, I have depression, it's genetic, not to mention I'm an introvert, so I don't socialize well.) For about a year after, I just kind of go through the motions and become a mindless drone. Just anything to get by.
Now during this whole time, I didn't know it, but the wife of one of the elders had been spreading rumors about me. She's constantly tell people I was unstable, unsuitable for any of the girls in the congregation, to which I found out she was doing this to eliminate me as a future rival suitor because her son was also weird and introverted. The more I think about it, the more I realize that our congregation had a bit of a caste system to it, and that only certain families were allowed to marry into certain other families. (The hilariousness at this point, is each and every one of us that were under adult age at that time, are no longer witnesses, and now the congregation is full of old, dejected, hopeless people.)
While the rumor mill churned, I went on with my life, and my the summer before my senior year, I started discovering things that I liked, not things I was told to like. Now, I had become attracted to a girl that has graduated the year after my brother had. I had admitted my attraction to her and though she was 21 and I was 17, we did the deed. I snuck out of the house to do so, and my mother caught me the second time sneaking back in. Now my father was away from home three weeks each month at that point, and my mother didn't know how to handle it. My father was irate that he had to cut his business trip short because of my "unacceptable behavior". He proceeded to get the elders involved, and because I had once again disappointed my parents I came clean to the elders and "repented". But I didn't really repent.
I was still stuck in a sight zombie cycle, going to meetings, but halted my field service participation, and my participation in the theocratic service. Well, my birthday during senior year, the girl broke up with me, and I was depressed for quite a while, but it didn't hit me the same way rejections by others had. I buried myself in my school work and was determined to be the best version of me that I could be. I had started realizing that being the best version of me, didn't include being a witness, but I continued going to the Sunday meeting to keep up appearances for my parents. At least, that was until the week of the 2007 Virginia Tech shooting. I was having a conversation with a "friend" that went to another school, told her that I could understand the kid that did it, because I used to feel that way, that I had once wanted to do the exact same thing. Obviously,friend is in quotes because she took what I said out of context, sent it to my school administration, who immediately got the authorities involved.
Can you see where this is going? The police searched my car, my parents house, my locker, and my person's for illicit drugs and weapons. They told me they knew about my conversation with "friend", and knew about my plan, to which I responded, "obviously you didn't see the entire conversation." I asked to see a computer, because at that point I logged EVERYTHING through my Gmail account, and pulled up the conversation which had made clear that I didn't feel that way any longer. The cops looked at the principal, the vice principal and then at me. "Well, because we had been called for a 'credible threat', and because you're 18, you have two choices. We can either cuff you and take you to get involuntarily committed for mental health, or you can voluntarily submit yourself for a psych eval." To which I responded, "you don't need to cuff me, I'll comply, but you need to get in contact with my parents and have them meet me at the hospital." The obliged, even though they didn't have to since I was legally an adult. It was obvious these cops didn't want to do this, but had to because there was a power above them that wasn't actually going to let them investigate and properly assess the "threat".
I was escorted to a police vehicle, not in cuffs, and driven from my school to the hospital. This, because the son of that elder went to the same school, was the end of my attendance to the congregation and the meetings. The elders wife, that evening, while I was in the mental health wing for teens, proceeded to call every mother in the congregation and gossip about me, unrepentantly. (I got my Justice against her, the elder, and their son about four years later while in Florida when she attacked me when she realized I had a concealed firearm. The three of them were arrested for assault, after I was able to subdue them and hold them until police arrived.) I spent three nights in the teen wing, and the doctors made it very clear, after seeing my demeanor at entry, the chat logs, and my willing participation, that I wasn't a threat, and that the school over reacted.
Now, it's been almost thirteen years since that incident, but it set in stone my leaving "the truth". In that thirteen years, I joined the Marine Corps, at which point my father disowned me, and then immediately recanted knowing he couldn't live without his son. Over the years after graduating HS, I've come to understand my father and the things he did, and realized that they weren't for him. My father, the big liberty loving guy that he is, has been so submissive to my mother, that he's been the tool she uses to try to beat her children into submission, which would probably be why my brothers first wife cheated on him. However, spending time in the Marine Corps, my father knew I would break completely free of my mother's control and manipulation. I still take to heart certain things I was taught as a witness. I despise hypocrisy, I despise gossip and rumor, and I've gained an appreciation for not being a pacifist. (Again hilarious since those three witnesses were the ones that assaulted me when I was 22.) Over the past year, I've stopped fighting how I feel about my body, and accepted the fact that I am in fact transgender, which I know my father would accept, but my mother wouldn't. It took me until age 30 to accept it, when I could have been much happier much earlier in my life if my mother hadn't been so manipulative.
As for the congregation, the structure has practically all but completely broken down. The turn over rate of elders is faster than fry cooks at McDonald's. The kid's I grew up with in the congregation have all left, a couple were gay, to include the son of the elder that assaulted me along side his parents, two of the girls have disassociated themselves from their families, one of them was the sister of the other gay boy. That family also had another son of whom has gone one to lead a rather uneventful but successful life. He got married, had kids, and as far as I'm aware has a good career. So here I am, a prior service Marine in process of transitioning to female, and this was my story.
TL;DR - trans girl used to be a JW.