Why I Wrote This Book

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Hardship. No one likes it. We try to avoid it by pursuing happiness, stability, and all the wonderful things we hope to gain. Yet, trials inevitably come. They’re part of this wild, amazing, and often gut-wrenching human experience.

The funny thing about trials is they transform us if we let them. They take our rough-hewn selves and polish them into masterpieces. I’m not saying we’re perfect, but trials give us texture. They allow us to feel the weight of another’s burden because we know the weight of our own.

When that happens, we start showing up for ourselves. We remember that we’re beautiful and powerful. That we’re only here for a short time. That we have reasons. I don’t know your reasons. That’s the beauty of reasons - we all get different ones. One of mine is showing up for others. That’s why I’m sharing my story.

Dad, Mom, Me, and Jehovah is a memoir about growing up as a Jehovah’s Witness, but the book reaches far beyond the walls of the Kingdom Hall. It navigates a vast landscape of experience, from physical and mental illness to suicide to religious control. Yet these topics are not the tragedy; they’re the crucible.

To forge the story within that fire, I had to be raw. The book is deeply personal and sometimes goes to ugly places. In sharing my experiences, I offer not just confession but pieces of myself - my shortcomings included. These are given with profound care for you, the readers. I trust you to receive them gracefully, knowing that their truth, however uncomfortable, might help you navigate your own life.

For Jehovah’s Witness: If you are brave enough to read this, I want to offer a mirror. I want you to see the struggle of trying to fit your mind into a mold it was never made for, the rationalization of doctrines that contradict themselves, and the justification for staying despite the doubt.

For ex-Witnesses: I want you to remember that your curious mind is valuable. That you don’t need to carry guilt. That you’re damn strong for walking away from a religion that punishes dissenters with ostracism. That you have the power to assert control over a story once told for you.

For anyone else: I hope this story helps you unveil the courage you need to break away from the familiar - to claim your own life in the face of religious, familial, and societal expectations. In doing so, may you recognize your power - the incredible strength that so often rises through loss.

This is the story I wasn't supposed to tell. Now I'm handing it to you.