Not Always Positive

In the years when I spoke about leaving the brethren to family and friends, before doing so, I often said that I didn't expect the action to solve all my problems, that I didn't think life outside the fold was a paradise, and that I expected hard times and loneliness. And I meant that. I left without any rosy and romantic expectations.

But life is never what you expect, is it?

So, having expected the opposite, I've had an easy ride so far. The biggest difference has been in people. I thought I would encounter wariness, distant friendliness, lack of trust and trustworthiness, and, bluntly, people who'd be around when I can help them but not when they can help me. When among the brethren, you get kindness and support purely because of your membership of the community. Why would outsiders offer that level of friendship?

I've been pleasantly surprised. Not that I'm about to assume that everybody is as thoroughly decent as some have shown themselves to be, but at least this cold hard outside world has pockets of warmth that are not too hard to find.

That, especiallly, keeps me going through low moments - and yes, they do happen. Just last week I had one of those moments, a crisis of confidence of sorts, wondering whether I'd done the right thing or if I had managed to ruin my future by blindly making the most major change I could.

It started as a physical pang on my way home from work one day, at the point where I used to turn off for my old home. It was home, and it was warm and affectionate, with people who understood me, and I couldn't help asking myself whether anything at all is worth the price of giving that up. That's a very hard question to answer, and if I hadn't found affection elsewhere would be practically impossible.

Then there are my dreams of spending my life doing something I find worthwhile, rather than at a desk in a brethren office. Yes, anything is now possible in theory, but in practice life is still fairly tying. I no longer have artificial boundaries on my work activities, and could leave to pursue whatever I liked ... but I need money to live, and have an absurdly small set of verifiable abilities and qualifications, which means I shall probably have to come to terms with spending my days, at least for some while, doing something not so far from what I already do. In which case, why was I in such desperation to be gone?

The more I thought about it, the more it seemed that - with one or two admittedly big exceptions - the little things in life were going well, and the bigger things were still a problem. That neither the obstacles nor the benefits have really lived up to their billing. The biggest worry is over my own capabilities: at such times (in fact, whenever I think about it) I don't really believe I have what it takes to be a success. That's a personal thing, not the fault of my upbringing. I already knew I couldn't make a go of the brethren lifestyle, so it isn't as though I'm adapted to that at the expense of the outside world.

I have thought about going back. They would make everything very easy if I gave the slightest indication that I was tempted, and I dare say many things would be handed to me on a plate as a result. A returnee is always a feather in the cap that they're willing to pay for. All I would have to do is resign myself to known limitations instead of the unknown, and accept living a lie. Millions of people live a lie, as long as that life is otherwise comfortable.

But over the weekend, I realised what the difference now is. Without minimising the difficulties I've mentioned, they are MY problems. I solve them, or I fail to solve them, and either way they are in my hands to deal with. At low points, it's tempting to accept a course that leads to certain disappointment, purely because there will be something other than oneself to blame for it, rather than heading for a destination with one's fate in one's own hands. The possibility of failure can be more frightening than certainty.

I hope I would be strong enough to deal with those moments even if I had no support and was as alone as I thought I would be. As it is, I am carried through. Some things have gone better than I could have dreamed, and that makes me feel a hugely lucky person. With that kind of luck, and some determination, the impossible can become possible. I just wish I had more of that determination to call on.