The thing about rainstorms is they’re temporary — but when you’re in the middle of one, it doesn’t feel that way. The blue sky darkens, the roar surrounds you, and the heavens open. Rain soaks you to the bone until your senses are overwhelmed. All you can think about is finding shelter.
But what if there was nowhere to go?
At first, you might complain or shout at the sky, demanding answers. Eventually, you realize it changes nothing. Maybe you sit in the wet grass, tracing the steps that brought you here, wondering where you went wrong. Or maybe you simply accept it — deciding this is life now.
This is where many of you find yourselves: quiet defeat. You’ve stopped hoping for a future without the rain and abandoned any plans that involve the sun. But here’s the truth — the sun never left. It was only hidden.
The rain falls on all of us. The difference is, others know the storm will pass. Somewhere along the way, you were taught this was all there is — the best it would ever get. That is the first lie. And it always came with a warning: Don’t seek further information.
We were raised to believe a certain lie — one that had to be true for their organizations, their power, and their ideas to survive. If we were to be controlled, no other truth could be allowed to exist. And so, in an instant, a division was created: us and them. The believers and the ones who needed saving.
This false duality is everywhere. You see it in politics — Republicans and Democrats. You see it in history — the so-called “Aryan” race and everyone else. You see it in the way the world is structured — “first world” and “third world” — categories born from the unequal distribution of resources and the belief that some lives matter more than others.
In our personal lives, we were taught to see ourselves as modern-day biblical figures in a world ruled by evil — saviors who must stand as a bridge for the damned. We were told this was noble. But what it really was… was another way to divide us.
This was the second lie: there is no us and them. There is only us. All of us.
Separation creates weakness that can be easily controlled by fear. Your proselytizing was, unfortunately, unpaid sales work. But you have been blinded and can no longer see the world with your own eyes, only through their lies.
Before you can even speak, you know where God resides, because you were taught to point up if anyone asked. The training began early: bedtime Bible stories, endless meetings, strict rules, and conditional love. You learned quickly that affection could be withheld, that your worthiness could be questioned, and that love could be lost if you didn’t mold yourself into what they wanted.
And then came the most dangerous lie of all. The one that cuts deepest. The one that destroys the most lives.
That God could not love you as you are. That your gender expression or your sexual orientation made you unworthy. That simply existing in your truth meant you were undeserving of salvation.
This is the third and final lie, the worst of them because it doesn’t just reject you as a person. It damns your soul, it steals your hope, and it tells you that nothing greater could ever be waiting for you in the future. It tells you that you are lost, not only in this life but for all eternity. I’ve labeled this lie the dream killer because it hides you from the divinity within yourselves.
I learned just how deep this lie ran when I came out to my father. I had already tried to let Jehovah “fix” me. I had prayed, begged, and done everything I was told would make me “right” in God’s eyes. But deep down, I knew I wasn’t broken. I was simply in love — for the first time in my life — with someone outside of “the truth.” And for her, I would have done anything.
So I sat across from my father, my heart pounding, knowing that whatever happened next, nothing would ever be the same. He told me that through Jehovah, all things were possible. But if I chose this path — if I chose her — I would lose everything. My family. My friends. My place in Paradise after Armageddon.
At the end of times, I would perish with every other wicked and vile thing on this planet…If I even survived in the world till then. But I would be completely alone, no support, or communication till then. No one was coming to save me.
It was an impossible choice for a child, but I believe I made the right one. I chose love, and even though it didn’t work out, I am grateful for the experience because had it not presented itself, I may have never left the imprisoned life, I was unaware I was even living or the chains I had been bound by. The ones that destroy so many of you still.
Maybe you’ve started to feel the weight of those chains. Maybe you’ve begun to ask questions you never dared to ask before. If you have, hold on to that curiosity like it’s oxygen — because it is. That spark is your way out. Do your research. Be diligent. To break free from a belief system like this, you need more than just the sense that something is wrong — you need to understand why. You have to see the cracks in the foundation for yourself. And often, the simplest way to uncover the truth is to follow the money.
Some of you listening have already made the choice to leave. Others… had the choice made for you. Either way, here you are — on the other side, with every tie to your old life severed. You’ve survived one of the most difficult things a human being can endure — and you are still here. That alone is proof of your strength.
The perspective you’ve gained is something most people will never have. And what you do with it from here is up to you. But please understand this: shunning, disfellowshipping, excommunication — these aren’t just policies. They don’t just split families. They take lives. I am begging you — do not let them take yours.
Because here’s the thing: when you lose your family to death, the world recognizes it as grief. But when you lose them while they’re still alive — because of indoctrination, because of a system that tells them to erase you — your grief becomes invisible. People on the outside may not understand why you can’t just “move on.” But family erasure isn’t something you simply get over. It’s the tearing away of your roots while you’re still breathing.
When I was shunned, it didn’t just take people from my life — it took away my sense of belonging, my anchor, the place I thought I came from. And in that void, I had to ask myself a question I had never dared to before: Who am I when no one who raised me will claim me?
Maybe you’ve asked yourself that same question. Maybe you’ve been cut out, cast aside, treated as if your existence doesn’t matter. And maybe, like me, you’ve realized that the pain doesn’t just disappear. You learn to live with it. And if you choose, you grow through it.
And that is where the healing begins.
You start by allowing yourself to grieve what was lost. This is a living death, and it’s okay to mourn the people who are still alive. Cry for the conversations you’ll never have. Acknowledge the milestones they’ll never witness. Give yourself permission to feel every ounce of that loss — because the grief you refuse to feel becomes the cage you live in.
Then, you name the truth.
Shunning works because it tries to make you believe you are the problem. You are not. Their rejection is about their fear, their conditioning, and their need to protect the worldview that gives them a sense of safety. Saying that out loud — even if your voice shakes — is reclaiming your reality from the lies they left you with.
Next, you rebuild your chosen family.
The human need for belonging doesn’t disappear because your family left — but it can be met in new ways. Seek the people who light up when they see you, who don’t make you shrink to be loved, who celebrate you without conditions. Blood makes you related; love makes you family.
You reconnect with yourself.
Shunning doesn’t just erase you from their lives — it can erase your own sense of self-worth. Ask: Who am I without their approval? Without their rules? Without their labels? Then take the time to meet that person — and let them speak, sing, and live again.
You create rituals of belonging.
When you’ve been exiled, you can feel rootless. Give yourself roots by making new traditions — dinners with friends, a personal holiday, an annual gathering, or even a simple candle you light every week to remind yourself you still belong to the greater human family.
And when the time is right, you alchemize the pain into purpose.
The system that shunned you wants your silence. You can use your story to break that silence, to reach the ones still in the dark, to remind them they are not alone. Every time you heal a wound you didn’t cause, you raise the frequency of what’s possible — for you and for those who will come after you.
Family erasure leaves an ache, but it doesn’t leave you empty. You get to choose what fills that space. And what you choose can be richer and deeper than anything you lost. You were never erased in the eyes of Source — you were always seen. Now, it’s time to see yourself.
So I ask you: What will you do with the space they left behind? Will you fill it with their memory of who you were? Or will you fill it with the truth of who you are now?
You are more than their judgment. You are Source energy in human form. “God” never forsook you — the clouds simply hid the light. Those clouds are clearing now. You are so much more than they told you. You are loved and accepted exactly as you are. Always.
So I'm going to stop here to pose a question that no one has ever asked you before:
What do you want?
What do you really want?
Not what someone told you was possible for you, or what you are willing to settle for. I know this may be difficult because some of you can only think about what they told you you deserve, but pretend with me, just for a minute. Pretend like all rules are out the window, and you could instantly possess, do, or be anyone you wanted. What does that picture look like? Sit with that. Write it down, make a vision board, whatever you have to do to physically see this idea on a daily basis, do it.. You have to remember that every creation first began with a thought. So we begin here. Start with one question, and we will build from there. Open your minds to what is possible for you, and feel in your heart what naturally settles there. There are hidden dreams, talents, and experiences just waiting to unfold. Because when you are living a heart-centered life, anything is possible. It begins with allowing ourselves to do the one thing we were taught not to do: question everything.
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