Laughing with the Sinners: My Life as a Jehovah’s Witness

By the world’s standards, I was a good kid: I didn’t smoke, I didn’t drink, I didn’t do drugs, and I didn’t get into trouble with the law. In fact, I was so squeaky-clean I was still a virgin. Without delay, however, I was counseled by church elders and advised I wasn’t a good kid by Jehovah’s Witnesses standards: I had shoulder-length hair, I attended rock concerts, I had worldly girlfriends, and I possessed a questionable record collection that included music by Stevie Nicks and Led Zeppelin.

Faggot

The raw emotions continue to be painful. I’m still spazzing. I’m still distraught. I’m still frantic and furious. I’m working hard to shed this baggage and the image that has been branded upon me. Meanwhile, I am damaged. Mentally and physically, I am unable to cope on my own. I need support. I need help. I need an advocate.

I finally understand what it means to be a survivor. I must find my footing, pave my way, and mow over the resistance. Even if I’m all alone, I fully intend to fight for my self-worth for as long as it takes.