I was born into a family of very faithful Jehovah’s Witnesses. Jehovah’s Witnesses attend five meetings a week and join in giving presentations at these meetings when they learn to read. I joined the program at five years of age. I gave my first talk about Peter and Cornelius in front of 100 people.

Jehovah’s Witnesses preach from door-to-door, and at birth I started accompanying my mom. When I was two I was giving out pamphlets. At home we spent much time in family study, learning obscure points about the Bible and learning chronology that supposedly pointed to the end of Satan’s system.

I graduated from high school and was not allowed to go to college. I was well-known at my school as “the nun” just because I was so openly loyal to my faith. My grades were exceptional. I was even offered a full scholarship to college. Because my grades were so high in Spanish, I was given an opportunity to be a translator for the United Nations! But in my piety, I turned it down. I did it for my god. After all, I believed that the United Nations was an abomination foretold in the Bible.

I take the next step

I had been devoting 90 hours a month to door-to-door preaching since my middle teenage years, and now I needed to go the next step. As a 17-year-old graduate, I planned to move almost 1,700 miles from home to serve as a missionary on an Indian reservation. At 18 I moved from Pennsylvania to South Dakota alone. I believed that my god was worth it. I was proud of myself. I was truly earning salvation!

Soon things in my world began to fall apart, and I now am grateful that they did. I got married at 20. Witnesses are not allowed to date. They have to be committed to the person before they “go out” anywhere and must be accompanied by a chaperone. Because you have company along on your “dates,” you never get to really know the person. That is how I ended up marrying a man who became my abuser. He was the most exemplary man in three states. All the elders told me I was a lucky lady.

I was loyal to him for more than a decade. I was also in the hospital three times. He stopped going to Witness meetings, and the elders could see that he was not who they thought he was. But it was too late for me. Finally, when I was at death’s door, I had to leave to save my life. When I got out of the hospital that third time, I never returned. Instead I moved into a little apartment.

The elders condemned me for being on my own, insinuating that I wanted to play the field. That was far from the case! For half of my marriage my husband had wanted nothing to do with me, and I remained loyal to him. That would not change. After all, I was still legally married.