Higher Education

Watchtower classifies higher education as a temptation akin to smoking, using drugs, and watching violent and immoral movies. For instance, see the insert from the Watchtower2008 Sep 1, entitled “What Will be The “End Afterward”?

The Kingdom Ministry warns:

“Your children will no doubt experience new challenges and pressures. … Are they prepared for the pressure they will receive to pursue higher education, date, and use alcohol or drugs?” Kingdom Ministry 2011 Jul p.2

Watchtower explains pursuing an advanced education is dangerous because it:

• Wastes precious time in these last days
• Promotes prestige and materialism
• Shows a lack of faith
• Involves bad association
• Promotes higher learning

Growing up as a Jehovah's Witness I heard on a weekly basis that the world was going to be ending soon and there would be an Armageddon and all of our things that were "worldly" would be no more. We were taught to go knocking on doors every free moment we had and I was certain that I would see this Armageddon and I would live forever in paradise on earth. When someone is asked about what they know about Jehovah's Witnesses people will usually say something about the 144,000 that are going to heaven. Jehovah's Witnesses believe that there will be an Armageddon between Jesus and Satan and Jesus will win and the earth will be restored to a paradise. The only ones that go to heaven are the 144,000 that are appointed by god himself. My Grandfather on my adoptive Mom's side felt he was one of the "anointed" (what the 144,000 are called) and he would be serving God in heaven. It's amazing how I really believed this but again, this is something that I was fed every single day of the first 30 days of my life. Writing what I used to believe kind of makes me laugh now. 

Considering I was raised in the Jehovah's Witness faith, I was one of the lucky ones because my Dad was not a Jehovah's Witness and he tried his hardest to expose me to everything the Jehovah's Witnesses felt was "worldly". My parents had such an odd relationship because even though my adoptive Mom was responsible for our (my brother and I) spiritual upbringing, my Dad was allowed to do what he wanted for the holidays. Once I was a teenager and my Grandma Murphy lived in Kansas City we always had family dinners on Thanksgiving, Christmas Eve, Christmas, my Grandma Murphy's bday and Easter. As hard as my adoptive Mom tired to protect me from the world, I was exposed to it a lot more than most Jehovah's Witnesses kids. My love of holidays started then and even though I never expressed excitement with my adoptive Mom (or anyone else really) my little heart was so excited with each holiday that came around. I never received a lot of gifts on Christmas or my birthday, but my Dad tried hard to make sure that I did have a couple gifts for Christmas. I think he started to resent me not getting him gifts (I was not allowed to buy gifts, but I could accept them) and started buying me things that he would like so he would eventually get my gift. I remember times when I was angry with him like, why didn't he get me something I liked, but now that I look back on the situation I am sad for how I felt towards my Dad and wished I had tried to sneak him a few gifts. One year when I was going to camp (that was another worldly thing that I was blessed to be able to attend) I was leaving on Father's Day and I secretly bought my Dad a Father's Day card and gave it to him before I left. My Dad bragged to my Mom about me getting him a card so of course my Mom was furious at me and it was a rough departure for my Mom and I when I was leaving for 8 weeks. This experience probably had something to do with me not buying my Dad gifts after that....he liked to use it to stab my Mom in the heart because I was going against what she was teaching me. 

I think where my life would be if I had not had the exposure to higher education like I did. In 1995 I was just a few semesters away from graduating with my bachelors in Social Work when I dropped out. My adoptive Mom was supportive of me  not going to school and even hid the fact from my Dad for months that I was not in school. After I dropped out I got married to my ex husband and about a year and a half later I was so unhappy. I was in a loveless marriage, I was in a church that kept telling me not to worry about anything because Armageddon was just around the corner and I was in a dead end job. I really felt like I didn't have anything.  One day I was so upset where my life was that I called my parents and said, I am going back to school!! Of course my Dad was happy and thinking back I can't remember what my adoptive Mom's response was. Two years later I graduated with my bachelors degree and getting that degree was just the beginning of me breaking out of the cocoon I had been forced to live in my entire life. 

More on adoption

My transition back to the real world has been delayed until next week. Due to an infection at the incision site I am back to staying off my feet for another week. I did manage to work one day on Monday but by the middle of the day I noticed the incision site was not looking great. I called the dr and he wanted me to come by to look at it. One look and he said I had an infection starting. I had planned on going to work the next day but my foot got worse on Monday night and after speaking with my dr we decided I needed more time off to allow this to heal. I think what happened was when the stitches were coming out this one spot was not ready. When the stitch was removed it hurt like hell and I knew something was not right. Looks like I was right.

I have watched so much tv since I have been off work and last night I happened to catch an episode of Intervention. It has been probably 5 years since I have watched that show. I loved it when it first came out but when this show came out I was at a bad time in my life and I guess I enjoyed the company of other people that were miserable. Once things got better and I became happier, I stopped watching the show because it really depressed me. Well, last night there was nothing on tv and I started watching an episode. This episode was so interesting and I heard a message that I really needed to hear again and to be reminded about.

In this episode a woman was struggling with addiction and one of her issues was the fact that she was adopted. When she went looking for her birth mom the only response she got from her was, I didn't want you then and I don't want you know.  Wow oh wow. I can't imagine searching for my birth mom and then getting a response like this. It would break my heart and certainly devastate me if my birth mom had said that to me.

Ever since I was 18 I have wanted to look for my birth mom. When I was in high school we had to write a paper that discussed the pros and cons of a whatever subject we wanted to talk about and the subject I chose was whether or not to look for my birth mom. When I talked to my adoptive mom about this paper she instantly became very upset. She was so upset that I would want to look for my "real" mom and that I would abandon her.

Anyone that is adopted has the same questions...Where did I come from? Why was I placed up for adoption? What is my background? I was no different and it's sad that my adoptive mom could not be supportive of me to find answers to those questions I had.  I wish I had that high school paper because I don't remember one thing I wrote about in it and I would love to see what my conclusion was. I am thinking that I did the normal thing teenage Caroline did and smoothed things over, pushed my feelings aside and made my adoptive mom happy.

And here is a big BUT with everything I just wrote.....

Everything happens when it's suppose to and I know for a fact that if I had searched for my birth mom when I was 18 it would not have been a good time for either my birth mom or birth dad. I am thankful that it never worked out that I found my birth mom back then (even though she was only 10 minutes away from me) because 2013 was the exact moment we were suppose to be reunited and brought back into each others lives.  Kind of sucks that instead of 10 minutes from her I am now 600 miles from her.

I will never forget that first call with my cousin S and hearing that Yes, my birth mom wants to meet me and have me in her life again. For so many years I was afraid to look for my birth family for fear that I would be rejected again. And when I realized I was gay and lost my adoptive family, I was even more fearful of finding them and being rejected. It was such a big relief when I asked my cousin if my birth mom would have an issue with me being gay and she said, no way.

The acceptance I have received from my birth mom's side of the family and a few from my birth dad is one of the greatest gifts I have ever received. It is such a good feeling knowing that the woman that created me loves me no matter what. Sadly, I never felt that way with my adoptive mom. I always felt like the love she had for me was conditional and I guess in the end I was right. She loved me as long as I did what she thought I should do. Once I started thinking on my own, her love was quickly taken away.

It's a huge comfort knowing that I do have family that love me and will never leave me. At 42, I have never had that. I have never had a family member say, I love you unconditionally and exactly the way you are. After 42 years, I think it's finally my turn to have an accepting family.

My 9/11 story

2001 was a year of change for me. In March of that year my divorce from my ex husband was finally finalized and I felt like a free woman. In June of 2001 I started the 1 year Maters in Social Work  program at KU and my life was suddenly crazy. That summer I was working about 32 hours a week and going to school 1 full day each week. I was so busy.

In August of that year I left the job I had been at since I got my bachelors degree. At that time, this job and my co-workers were my one contact with the world. In June 2000 I was disfellowshipped for smoking cigarettes and I did okay not having my family until I was not at work with people I considered my friends. I felt so alone. I think I only lasted 3-4 days after I left my job and when I called my Mom and said, I want to be reinstated. (brought back into the church through a 6+ month process) My Mom and I had not talked much at all during that year that I was disfellowshipped which was hard on me, but again I had my friends from work and I think I was doing pretty good.

My cousin Ryan was getting married in August 2001 and I remember being so upset that I was not at the wedding and all this family was in town and I was left out completely. I think this was part of the reason that I wanted back in the church...I wanted my family back. I was still feeling pretty unsure about whether I wanted to be back in the church, but I was so lonely and felt like I had no one. As sad as it was, I really didn't have anyone. But I knew I would be like the lost sheep that returned to the fold and as soon as I was reinstated, I would have my family back.

On September 11 I was driving to school when I first heard about the attacks in New York. I heard it on the radio and I called my Dad because I wasn't sure if this was a joke or what and sadly my Dad confirmed that a plane had flown into one of the Twin Towers, but he didn't know much else. When I got to school my first class started and we went for about an hour before having a break. It was during that break that we learned of all the attacks that had occurred. I remember sitting in class wondering what in the world was going on and that's when I first thought that maybe this was Armageddon. I think the teacher let us out a little early so we could go watch a tv in another room and that is when I saw one of the towers fall. I was in complete shock. I couldn't believe what was happening before my eyes.

I had a lunch break and my adoptive Mom worked close to where I was attending classes so I drove over to her work and we went to lunch...Taco Via of course. We were talking about people we knew in New York, like my cousin Jill. We knew she was safe, but she was still right in Brooklyn and we had no idea what was coming next. I just wanted to talk to Jill, but I was still disfellowshipped and she refused to speak to me. Once I said I wanted to be reinstated, my Mom instantly started talking to me again and it was like nothing had happened. The only reason she talked to me during the last 6 months of my disfellowshipping was because she knew I was trying and she wanted to encourage me to keep going.

As I drove home that day from school I remember seeing all the long lines for gas and I was freaking out. I was afraid to take the highway home, so I took the back roads all the way home. When I got home I remember sitting outside on the back deck thinking how quiet the air seemed. It just seemed like everything was quiet rest of that day. I had no one to come home to on that day. I had my pets, but there was another person waiting for me to get home so we could hug and reassure each other. It was just me. And boy did I feel so alone on that night.

2001 was such complex year for me and I went through so many changes. After the attacks I remember still feeling so alone and I knew that going back to the church was the wrong thing, but I saw the happiness in my adoptive Mom's face when I did return wanting to repent for all my sins and there was no way I could break her heart again. I had already made a commitment and I had to follow through with it.

But in my heart, something changed after September 11. I saw how the country came together and really rallied behind each other. Our country was so united and even someone that had been taught her entire life to not do anything patriotic, something inside me was coming alive with all of the good that was happening in our country the few months after 9/11. My heart opened in a way it had never done so before and I had never felt more proud to be an American.

Childless

When I was a little girl and for much of my life into my 20s all I really wanted to do was get married and have lots of kids. It's a family joke that when I was little and would play the game of Life with my cousins I would buy their kids so I could have as many kids as possible. My friends in high school thought for sure I would be the first one married and with kids. Yes, I was the first of my friends to get married, but the kids never came.

All of my life I have wished to have family members that look like me. And I think this was one of the reasons I really wanted kids...so I could have someone that looked like me. I could look at my cousins and see parts of their parents in them, but I never had that when I compared myself to my parents and brother. Being adopted can lead to a very lonely life. I know that I felt alone most of my life and felt that  no one understood me. I had no one around me that was also adopted and talking about being adopted with my adoptive parents was something that just didn't happen. I am so lucky that my parents did chose to tell me from the very beginning that I was adopted. Looking back on how they would speak about my birth mom and they were always so sweet about her and always told me that she loved me so much that she chose a family to raise me. They were always thankful for her and the wonderful gift she had given them. Knowing I was adopted always gave me a little bit of hope when things got really bad with my parents. I think it was that hope that helped me hang on when things got really tough and when I thought about ending my life. I always had hope that there was a family out there that really wanted me and loved me all along. It's a wonderful feeling knowing that I was right all along and I did have a family out there that was ready to welcome me back into their lives and their love.

Now that I am 42 I know that I will never have children. Sometimes the thought that I will never have a baby makes me so sad. There is so much that I will miss in life because I don't have children but then again my life is really good and I don't feel like I am missing anything. But I still wonder....what would my life look like if I did have children. If I had gotten pregnant when I was with my ex-husband I would have a 15-17 year old.  That thought alone puts me in a panic because I can't ever imagine being the mother to a teenager.

I am lucky because even though I don't have any children of my own, I have so many wonderful children and babies in my life through extended family. I love all of my nieces/nephews so much and maybe I was meant to be the fun cool aunt instead of a mommy. I love my role as an aunt and growing up my adoptive mom's sister was like a second mom to me and played an active role in everything in my life.

Through finding my birth family I found my Ant (it's not spelled wrong, that's how she likes to spell it) Sharron and she has been such a blessing to me and she has so much love to give me. We talk on a weekly basis (although we need to talk more on the phone) and she has given me so much information about my birth dad's side of the family. Just being with her I feel this strong connection to her and even though we have only known each other for a few years, I feel extremely close to her. I am so thankful for my ant and I hope my nieces/nephews will once feel the same way about me!

My sister Cheri, Ant Sharron and Me. It was about 1:30am when this photo was taken. 

Got what I asked for

The sun is down, the outside is all dark and quiet and rest of the world has gone to bed, but for me this is the time when I think the most and when I want to write. I have always found comfort in the dark and when I lived in the Midwest I would love the days where it was raining and cloudy. Most people I know need the sun a lot more than I do and being in the darkness is one of my favorite places to me. Having lupus has also affected the way I am towards the sun. I was a typical teenager that loved to lay in the sun and even bragged about  sun tanning oil I had called "Thermonuclear Sun Tan Oil". Now when I have every inch of my body covered and I am in the sun for more than an hour my lupus goes crazy and I break out in itchy painful rashes on my feet and hands. So I am learning how to love life in the shade and protected from the sun.

For the last couple of months I have thought that I deleted my first and original blog, but much to my surprise it was still there when I looked for it tonight. I opened it back up to the public and I have enjoyed reading some of my old posts tonight. I read a few from when I first started blogging, some when Laura and I broke up and some towards the end of that blog where I was starting a whole new life in a small Kansas town. The blog dates from 2005-2009 and reading through some of my old posts I can't believe how much was going on in my life during those 4 years. I remember someone commenting on a post saying they wished I would put down some roots somewhere. That comment has never left me and I guess it's great to say that I can say I have officially laid down some roots here in Leadville, Colorado. Who knew that I would end up in a place where it snows 9 months out of the year with an average of 14 feet of snow every winter. I had written a post with a picture of a snowy driveway and all I wrote was, I wished I lived here.  Crazy how I now do live in a place very similar to that picture. I also read how much I hoped to find someone that would truly love me and accept me; my past and all. In one post I said that maybe the reasons I hadn't found her yet was because God was still preparing her for me. When I look at the date of that post and then think about what was going on in D's life at the time, I was right...God was preparing her for me because if I had met D anytime except when I did meet her, it would probably have not worked out. Timing is everything.

Tonight I looked out the window and it was raining in the back of our house, but sunny in the front. I wobbled to the front of the house and found one of the most beautiful rainbows right out my front door:

It's a weird feeling to be reading what you were feeling many years ago and realize that everything you had every wished for has come to be. I have always loved the saying everything happens for a reason  and yes, everything does happen for a reason. For so many years I couldn't figure out why Laura and I didn't work out and now that I am living this wonderful life, it does all make sense and I can see why it didn't work out. I was was meant for better things, better people and I got exactly what I asked for.

It was a good childhood

One of the things that I have really learned to do in the last couple of years, is to appreciate the life I did have with my adopted family. There are so many things and experiences that I would never have experienced if I had been anywhere else. When I first found my birth family I was so angry with my adoptive family. I just couldn't understand how they could love and raise me as if I was their own and then when I am 30 and come out as gay they decide this is one sin they can't look beyond. And really when I say "my parents" I think it's important to know that my Dad was never a Jehovah's Witness. My Mom met my Dad when she was taking a "break" from being a JW and it wasn't until they adopted my brother that my Mom decided to go back to church. My Mom shared with me when I was a teenager that when my Mom went back to the church they (my parents) decided that my Mom would be in charge of the spiritual upbringing of my brother and I. Throughout my whole life I was able to see small glimpses of the world outside of my local congregation because of my Dad. Now that I am an adult and see how stubborn my Mom can be, I am even more appreciative of all the battles he went to with my Mom so I could experience somewhat of a  normal childhood. When I was disfellowshipped from the church it put my Dad in the middle and I of course wanted him to take my side, but as the years went by and my Mom still refused to talk to me, my relationship with my Dad slowly faded.  Happily my relationship with my Dad seems to be going better and my whole surgery ordeal has opened up the doors for us to talk several times a week.

One of the things that I had growing up was a cabin at a local lake. Anytime I think about my childhood, Lake Lotawana always comes to mind. I spent every weekend there in the summer and we even spent time there in the winter even though our little cabin had no heat. I have so many good memories from my time at Lake Lotawana. I think the big one was we were always there together as a family. One thing I can say about my childhood is, my parents were very involved. I don't remember a soccer game or any other activity that I didn't have one or both of my parents there. As a child (and much into my adult life) I felt very safe being near my parents. I think that is why I had trouble distancing myself from my adoptive Mom once I moved out and didn't see her everyday. For so much of my life, my adoptive Mom was the most important person in my life. Sometimes when I really think about it, I wonder how I don't cry every day that I no longer have the woman that raised me in my life.

But back to happy things....I had a very good childhood. For so long I think I only focused on the bad and what had happened to me, but I soon learned that everyone has something they have had to overcome and compared to what some people go through growing up, I didn't have it that bad. Even when I was being abused by my brother, I still was a happy child and filled with so much hope.

I often wonder why things never worked out that I would have children of my own. For the last two years that my ex husband and I were married we did not use birth control. Sometimes I struggle with my faith, but then I remember that I never got pregnant when I easily could have and how not having a child probably saved my life. Things would have been so different if my ex husband and I had had a baby. I could see myself being just like my adoptive Mom and being scared and staying in the church and never trying to venture out on my own.

Boy, it feels good writing again. And thank you so much for your feedback. Keep it coming. I love hearing from you!

So many untold stories

When you leave a cult it takes many years to de-activate your brain and to move away from all of the things I had been brain washed about.  Before I left the church I slowly started doing things my way and I quickly found that I wasn't struck by lightning and god didn't suddenly want to do away with me. I remember Christmas of 2000 and I bought myself a little Christmas tree. I put it up in my living room but had it close enough to the closet in case one of my witness friends/family members showed up. I loved that little tree and it was the first time that I did something that was totally against my religion and what I had been taught. 

When I was a witness I prayed and prayed that god would make me what he wanted me to be. How could I believe something that was making me so miserable. When I think back to the Caroline between the years of 2000-2004 I wonder what made me hang on and not just give up. There were many times when I did want to give up because I could not see living my life as a Jehovah's Witness and to be sane at the same time. The last few years that I was a Jehovah's Witness I felt like I was going crazy. My heart was telling me one thing, but everything I had been taught my entire life was telling me I god was very disappointed in me and my life was going to be a miserable one. 

When I was married to my ex-husband I had what I had always thought I had wanted. I had a husband that was nice to me and we had what seemed like a good life together. But something wasn't right and it wasn't right from day one. Four years into our marriage I finally came to terms with who I was and it suddenly made sense why my entire life with my ex-husband did not feel right to me. When I shared with my ex-husband that I had feelings for a woman he was in shock. He went right to the elders and told them that not only was I now smoking (this woman I had feelings for smoked and I picked up the habit to impress her) but I was also claiming to be a lesbian. James' outcry to the elders called for an immediate meeting with 2 elders to discuss the claims James was making. During the meeting I denied being a lesbian (feelings for a woman did not equate to me being a lesbian yet) but I did tell them I had started to smoke. This whole smoking thing was a way for me to get out of the church. I held onto that and within 8 months I was disfellowshipped for smoking cigarettes and my ex husband had moved out and suddenly I was on my own for the first time in my life. 

It amazes me how quickly Jehovah's Witnesses can turn their love and affection on and off. A few years ago I confronted the elders at my local congregation in Kansas City and they still denied that they shun people that are disfellowshipped. Not sure how they can continue to deny they shun members when there are millions of examples right in front of their eyes. 

I sure do love all this writing that I have been doing. I keep telling myself that I would love to write a memoir or maybe even a fictional book based off my life. I am working on my motivation to write more and to share more because this heart of mine has so many untold stories! 

Consequences of being baptized

I got a lot of private feedback regarding my last post and it has really inspired me to keep writing and to keep sharing. Thanks to those of you that encouraged me to keep writing it out.

For two days now I have been looking for a picture of my cousin Jill and I on the day we got baptized. I feel that pictures with some writing speaks volume that wouldn't be there if the picture wasn't there. But I am going to try to not let me not finding this photo turn into I will wait to write.

I think I want to address another thing that was said to me today. Someone mentioned that I had a lot of bitterness towards religion and as much as I feel like I do, I don't let what has happened to me in the past to stop me from being who I am today. Writing me for me is something that I really enjoy doing and I love that there are people that love reading what I have to say. I'll try to keep any bitterness out of my posts. :-)

People are always fascinated with the fact that I was raised a Jehovah's Witness. The religion as a whole is very private and they hate when outsiders find out about how things really work on the inside. The main goal in converting people is to get them to where they dedicate their life to the church. They don't say the church but rather, you are dedicating your life to Jehovah and his earthly organization. Once someone is baptized you are pretty much stuck and the only way to get out is  leave all of your friends and/or family. When someone converts to Jehovah's Witness I feel they have an easier way to escape than someone like me who was raised in the religion and whose entire extended family are witnesses. My adoptive Dad was an only child, so I never had a lot of extended family outside of great uncles and great aunts. Because my adoptive Mom's family lived just a few miles from us and were also Jehovah's Witnesses, we did everything with them. My best friend growing up was my cousin Jill who is 3 years younger than me. We were raised more like sisters and it was not uncommon for me to see Jill and rest of my extended family 3-4 times a week.

As soon as you are a teenager you start getting pressure to become a baptized member of Jehovah's Witnesses. Any sins you commit before you are baptized are not disciplined as harshly as someone that is baptized. So baptism is a very serious commitment and it is not taken lightly. When I was 16 my cousin Joel (he was one year younger than me) got baptized. Then the pressure was really on me since my cousin who was younger than me already made this lifelong commitment.

When my cousin Jill decided she was going to get baptized at the next convention (baptisms are only done at the large conventions that are held 2-3 times a year) I decided that it was probably time for me get baptized as well. I knew that any mistake I made after getting baptized could be held against me and a group of elders could decide if I should be part of the congregation or not. I just hoped that I wouldn't be one of the ones that did end up getting disfelloshipped because that would bring so much shame to my family.

When you decide you want to get baptized you are required to meet with 2 elders and to go over a certain set of questions. The elders ask you several questions and depending on how you answer them they decide if you are mature enough to make this commitment. I was scared to death they would tell me I was not ready, but I ended up passing the test just fine and a few weeks later I was baptized in a cow trough at Kemper Arena in Kansas City and the date was June 16, 1990. There is a special talk before the baptism that is directed only at the people getting baptized and I remember the elder telling our group that our baptism date was the most important date in our life. He was wrong, I think the most important date in my life was July 29, 2004 when I was finally able to get out of what I had started 14 years prior.

I know that when I first left/got kicked out of the church I was angry and there are times when that anger comes up. I know there are some that are reading this saying to themselves...Why can't she just get over this? I wish it was that easy. It's really hard re-programming your brain after 30 years of brainwashing. My blog and my writing is a great way for me to work through things and I guess if you don't want to read about this you can chose not to.

Two days in a row of blogging...maybe tomorrow I can make it 3 days.

Me vs Religion

 Slowly but surely I have been backing away from religion and all that comes with religion for the last 11 years. For the first 30 years of my life, the religion my adoptive mom chose for herself was what I was forced to eat, swallow and digest every single day of my life. Now when someone starts waving anything religious in front of me, I immediately back away and most times will back away and there are times when my response makes people back away from me. Anyone that really knows and loves me, knows that religion is a very touchy subject for me and it really is best to leave me out of anything related to religion.

For the first 30 years of my life I was forced to go to church 3 times a week and then on Saturdays (or any other day you didn't have to go to work/school) I was forced to go out in the "field ministry" to preach about the religion my adoptive mom was trying to force down my throat. When I was younger I was extremely shy so going to strangers doors for hours on Saturday mornings were torture for me. I was so jealous of my friends that were home watching cartoons while I was out knocking on strangers doors. I hated having to speak to strangers about something that I didn't believe in and something that I really didn't understand. It's weird because as much time as I spent in church learning about the bible and what god expects out of me, the whole idea of Jehovah's Witnesses was confusing to me and it never made sense what they were saying.

There were several times in my life where I really put forth an effort to be a good Jehovah's Witnesses. In June 1990 I was baptized as a Jehovah's Witnesses (I was 17); which really is a blood oath that you will forever be faithful to the church and do everything possible to spread the "truth". That summer I was baptized I auxiliary pioneered for one month. Being an auxiliary pioneer means I have committed to putting in 60 hours of knocking on doors for a one month period. I teamed up with my cousin Jill and we did out best that August to reach 60 hours and hopefully changes some people's hearts and convert them. I did neither. I think I made it to 56 hours and I ended up having to explain to the elders why I was 4 hours short. I hated that whenever there was a moral question my adoptive mom would always tell me to call the elders.

It was all controlled and when you did not meet their expectations, you were forced to explain to the elders why you did not meet your commitments. Once I was out of my parents house and able to have a little bit more say in what I did, I learned to lie about going out in the field ministry. Every baptized member of the church is expected to get at least 1 hour a month of preaching the good news. Once I was on my own I learned that it was very easy to lie about being out in field service and finally one day I decided I didn't want to do it anymore...and I didn't. But I continued to turn in my field service report every month with all made up numbers.

It took me twice to remove myself totally from the church; which also meant total detachment to my family. I knew that once I was kicked out of the church (disfellowshipped) my family would only talk to me if I came back the church. It's hard removing yourself from a cult, especially when your whole family and everything you have known is attached to that church. But here I am 11 years later and I feel I am stronger than ever.

But one area that I is still such a personal struggle for me is the idea of organized religion and an organization telling me what to do. I think this is why I could never be part of another church again..I don't want to be controlled.

Yes, it's been 11 years since I left the church and even though I spent my first 30 years inside a church  for hours each week, I think my relationship with God is just now getting started.

And I don't need religion to have God in my life.

7.9.15

I started blogging back in 2005 (wow...10 years!) and one of my first posts was about gay rights. I can't believe that in 10 years my dream has come true and all loving gay couples can now make the ultimate commitment and get married. The day the ruling came out I was not feeling well so I was home for the day. It was around 8am and we were both still in bed watching Good Morning America when the Breaking News interrupted the program. I looked at Dede and told her, this is it...it's the ruling on gay marriage. As history was being made I was so happy that I was able to be right there with Dede, my wife of six months! And how wonderful is it that I can call Dede my wife. I will be honest, saying wife when referring to Dede has been something I have had to get used to. I never thought I would be able to marry a woman and I didn't want to use the term wife until it was actually true. So the term wife is new to me, but I will say each time I say it and the person doesn't look at me shocked, I get used to saying it with ease and confidence.

It's hard growing being taught and drilled into your head that being gay is one of the worst sins you can commit. I often times wonder if my adoptive Mom had a clue that maybe I could be gay because thinking back to myself as a teenager I asked a lot of questions that could hint at my sexual orientation. I also remember my adoptive Mom warning me about getting too close to my (girl)friends because one of them may be wanting something else. If you have no worry about your child being gay, you probably wouldn't say something like that. So yeah, there is a part of me that knows my adoptive Mom knew I was gay all along and as I have learned with her 11 year silence towards me, it killed her that she couldn't do anything about it.

There has been a lot of tensions lately about gay marriage and the world seems so loud. Every time I open Facebook there is an article that pisses me off and makes my blood boil. Last Saturday I misread someones comment and I got angry and I became vocal about my anger. At some point I went back and re-read their comment and realized I had read it wrong. I quickly felt like shit and wrote this person and apologized. It wasn't the greatest apology, but I made an effort. I have had no response from this person and each day that goes by I realize again that maybe certain people really do only come in your life for a period of time. I guess time will tell.

When I came out to my adoptive Mom one of the things she said was that she felt I was not safe around little girls since I was now a lesbian. There was a woman at our congregation that suddenly would not let me near her little girl once she realized I was gay. (I had come out to her about 9 months before I was disfellowshipped) When I read that someone comparing being gay to being attracted to children I go nuts inside. The person that was suppose to  love me and accept me is now accusing me of being a child molester and I learned this past week that I am still very sensitive to all of this.

I'm not perfect and there are times when I feel like people expect me to be perfect. I am going to say things I don't mean and at some point I am probably going to hurt someones feelings. When I know I am wrong I apologize.

There have been several cases where I have reached out to someone and gotten no response. A few weeks ago I wrote on Facebook that I hated being ignored because it seems like it happens so much in my life. I have always been quiet and more of an observer but dammit that doesn't mean you can ignore me.

I have always been a sensitive person and it's been in the last 5 or so years that I have really embraced my sensitivity. This is who I am and I happen to love who I am!

My Say

This whole Josh Duggar situation that is running around the internet like a wildfire has got my blood boiling for so many reasons! On Friday when things just got started I was reacting to comments and posting comments about how he is a child molester, etc. I had to pull myself away from the internet for a while (at least things related to this story) and take some deep breaths.

This whole story and situation has forced many feelings I have about the sexual abuse I suffered at my brother who was just 2 years older than me out in the open again. The abuse started when I was 10 and my brother was 12 and it continued for 2 years. My brother stopped at the same age that Josh Duggar supposedly stopped molesting his sisters. (I believe it probably happened past that but something we may never know) I know for a fact that what happened between me and my brother was not normal behavior for teenagers and I know for a fact that Josh Duggar's sisters did not consent to anything that happened between them. I have heard stories that have reported that the youngest victim was 5 years old. In normal sexual exploration at 14 and 15 you usually experiment with other people your age, not a 5 year old child. If it is true that he sexually molested a 5 year old, then he needs to be charged with this crime. It's a shame that Arkansas only has a 3 year statue of limitations on reporting sexual assault. To me, there should be no limitations on when sexual assault can be reported.

My family did exactly what the Duggars did. We quietly dealt with it and moved on like nothing had ever happened. Josh was still unsupervised with his sisters, just like my brother was unsupervised with me for years. I remember being so afraid when my parents would say that they were going somewhere and my brother and I were staying at home. I knew that once they backed out of the driveway my brother would come at me like an animal. I was terrified of telling anyone and my brother never threatened me if I did tell unlike many victims. There were so many times when I wanted to say something, but I was so afraid I would get in trouble.

I want to scream to the people supporting Josh Duggar that by them supporting Josh  they are telling every girl that has been molested that as long as the person asks for forgiveness then all should be forgiven. There were never any consequences for Josh after all of this came to light. There have been reports that he was sent to Little Rock for 4 months to do some construction and it sounds like they are trying to say that was his "treatment". And what about this police officer they reported all of this to. Seems odd that the same officer they reported to (a family friend supposedly) is now serving a 56 year prison sentence for child pornography.

I hate putting any energy into this "story" that is swirling around the Internet, but I felt like I needed to write about why this whole story upsets and bothers me. I can only imagine what the Duggar girls that were molested are feeling like. I have heard very little about them and all of the focus is on the perpetrator instead of the victims. I am almost 42 and I am still embarrassed over what happened to me. Even tonight before I decided to blog I was worried what some people that read this part of my history would think of me because of the abuse I went through. I know it's not my fault, but the fact that I am still embarrassed 30 years later shows that having your older brother sexually abuse you and make you do things you don't want to, affects you for your entire life. The Duggar girls (and the other victim) are going to live with this for the rest of their life and most likely their future sexual relationships are going to be affected because of what Josh did to them.

I am thankful because I have some beautiful people in my life that have helped me heal from the sexual abuse I suffered. It no longer affects me like it used to and I can go long periods of not even thinking about it. But I do think about it at times and I cry for the little Caroline that had to go through such hard times, but also proud that she did survive.

I found her.

In the last four weeks I have read 4 books!! For someone that didn't read an entire book for more than 10 years...this is a huge accomplishment and I am proud of myself. Three of the books I read were by the author Jennier Lauck and all were about different times in her life. The final book was called Found and it was about Jennifer finding her birth mother, or first mother as she called her. I started the book  on our flight to New York and finished it this afternoon. As I picked it up and read the cover at the hotel on Wednesday night I turned to Dede and said, I am going to cry myself to New York. The book is an easy read and I had read more than half  of it on our first flight and I couldn't believe how the feelings that I have had for so many years were right there in someone else's life. I felt so much reassurance from reading just a part of her book that all these crazy feelings I have had in being reconnected with my birth mom are normal and very common among adoptees when they are reunited with their birth families.

After I was born my birth mom never saw me. I was taken away from her and for three days I was cared for by the nursing staff at the hospital. From as long as I can remember, I always wondered what those first few days were like for me. After reading  Found, I have a better idea as to what my little brain and body was going through every time I realized my Mom was not there. For 9 months I was a part of my Mom and I knew what she smelled like and I knew her voice so it was quite a shock to the newborn Caroline to not hear or smell my Mom.

The other thing that became more and more clear is how I have ached for her touch since the day I was born. Growing up my adoptive Mom tried to be affectionate with me but I rejected her time and time again. At one point when I was a teenager my adoptive Mom tried to hold my hand during a prayer at church and her touch didn't and never did feel right to me. She turned to me and told me that I was so cold hearted (because I wouldn't hold her hand). All through my life I have been searching for her touch that I never experienced as an infant and lucky for me not only did I find my birth Mom, but she wants me in her life and wants a relationship with me.

So many people search for their birth families and so many of them are rejected once again, so I am lucky that my birth mom has been willing to uncover a 40 year old secret and welcome me into her life and heart with everything she has.

Here is the first photo taken of me as I was brought into my adoptive home. I always wondered what was going through my mind and I think I have an idea now. I was wondering where she was.

Living with a bully

At 3 days old I was adopted and placed with my adoptive parents. Two years prior to that they had adopted my brother who from an early age displayed many emotional and mental health problems. My parents described me as an easy baby and bragged that I was sleeping through the night at 2 weeks old...with the help of some rice cereal added to my formula. One of the first stories I remember hearing about my homecoming was the fact that when my 2 year old brother came over to meet me he took the bottle out of my mouth and hit me over the head with it. Everyone kind of laughs about it, but I remember thinking at an early age that he was crazy even back then.

All throughout my childhood my brother was a bully to me and made my life really hard and at times even physically painful. I always felt that I was his own personal punching bag and whenever he was mad or upset (usually at our parents) he would just randomly hit me when no one was looking. When I would say something to my parents about him hitting me, they would tell me to get along with him and to stop fighting. When I was 11 my parents pulled me aside and told me that when my brother starts hitting me, I need to fight him back and all I want for them to do is to say they will make him stop. A few minutes after this conversation my brother walks in the room and I punch him in the face with my right fist. Everyone was shocked and no one could believe I punched him just because he walked in the room.  I guess I missed the part where they said....the next time he tries to hit you.

At the time I punched him I was in the middle of my only real grown spurt and for a few months I was taller than him, so I think that gave me a little bit more confidence. After that he got real tall quick and it became harder and harder to avoid him.

My parents knew he had issues and I didn't learn until I was in the my late 20's but they eventually found out information about his birth mom and and there is a reason he is the way he is. As much as he has hurt me, there is a part of me that feels sorry for him because he didn't have a great beginning to his life and his struggles in life are real and partially not all his fault.

I believe in the thinking that all of our experiences throughout life make us exactly who we are at this moment and I know that all the struggles that I have had in the past have lead me exactly where I am right now. All those tears, struggles, lonely years were worth it because  on those days when I wanted to give up I hung on to the thought that one day it would be better. What I have in my life today is more beautiful than anything I could have imagined for myself. There's more love in my life than I ever thought I deserved and with the help of D I am realizing I always deserved this much love.

A sad story can turn into something so much better.  And my story keep getting better.

And now for one of the best pictures ever taken of me as a child!

What's wrong Jimmy??

Having strength

My relationship with my adoptive Dad is so weird right now. My Dad was studying to become a Jehovah's Witness when I was young and I only have one memory of my Dad at Kingdom Hall when I was around 3-4. He decided in the late 70s that he did not agree with the teachings of the church so he stopped attending any meetings (that's what church services are called) and my Mom was in charge of our spiritual upbringing.

When I left the church and was disfellowshipped it suddenly put my Dad in a really bad place. He had to chose between peace between his wife and himself and his daughter. At it seems to be in my life, he did not chose me and  has stood by my Mom since the day I was disfellowshipped. When I was living in KC I would go years between seeing him or sometimes even talking to him. I remember being at work one day when I was still in KC and seeing him drive past and hating that seeing him didn't even matter. The bottom line is, I didn't matter to them anymore. No one in my family has tried to contact me since I left in 2004 and it's been me always trying to make contact, most of the time to no avail.

If I didn't call my Dad I would probably never hear from him. About every couple of months I will get a text message from him telling me about a program on tv, but he never asks how I am doing. When we do talk on the phone he does all the talking and I just listen to the hell that he is currently living in. I still don't matter to him and no mater how hard I try, realizing this breaks my heart every time.

I called my Dad last night and he immediately acted like he couldn't talk and I asked him if this was a good time to talk and he said....it never is. We talked for about 20 seconds and he said that he might have time to talk tomorrow. Naturally, I did not hear from him today and I probably won't until I try to make contact again.

I have such a fear of rejection and I know that it all started with being adopted. I remember being 8-9 and knowing I was adopted and I wondered why my birth mom didn't want me. Those feelings are hard to face when you are such a small kid and no one to really talk about these feeling I was having.

Coming out as gay was a huge amount of rejection for me. Literally every single person that was a part of my life suddenly was not there and in fact were being told from the church that I was an evil person and to avoid me at all costs and if they did talk to me they would be in trouble.

With bad there is also so much good that has been in my life. I have also learned how resilient I have been through everything. 2007 was a year of so much change. My relationship of 3 years had ended and for the first time in my life I really didn't have anyone in my life. At the time of the break up I was not working, so I couldn't even depend upon co-workers for support. The family I had for the past 3 years was lost in the break-up and it was a rough few weeks after the break up. A few months after the break up I got a tattoo of a dragonfly with the number 7 in the design. The dragonfly was because well, I love dragonflies and it was a symbol of strength for me. I knew 2007 was going to be a tough year and I knew I was in the unique place of completely starting over and doing what I wanted for the first time in my life.

Since 2007 I have made some big mistakes, cried many tears and loved more then I was loved, but I survived and transformed into the person I see in the mirror today.

Taking Flight

I don't know why, but I am afraid to blog. I have been thinking about it a lot lately (blogging) and I realized that I am fearful of sharing too much. My blog has always been a place for me to write and share some of the things I have struggled with in the past (and some current) and I guess I just don't know how much is "sharing too much". I think I have a pretty incredible story and I know there were many people that loved reading what I wrote. The internet is a big and scary place and even though I am not ashamed of my past or what I have gone through, sometimes I just don't know.

 I have been reading lately and I feel like I had somehow gotten into the lazy brain mode. I wasn't writing and I wasn't reading for fun. I have always blamed going to graduate school for the reason I stopped reading for pleasure but it's been 12 years since I got my masters (wow!) and I need to retrain my brain to read when I am bored instead of picking up my computer or phone or watching tv. All of the reading I have been doing lately have really motivated me to want to start writing again.

 Right about now is when my fear of sharing this blog with everyone starts, but tonight I am going to be brave and just hit publish!

See you soon.