RECOGNIZABLE QUESTIONS
Why does being shunned hurt so much, sometimes even years later?
Why do I miss my family and friends so deeply, even though I know I don’t want to go back to my old faith?
Why does it feel like I’ve lost not just people, but part of myself?
Who can I still talk to about my childhood when the very people who were there no longer have contact with me?
Why can the thought “if I go back, maybe I’ll get everyone back” feel so appealing?
Why do I feel guilty because my family believes I’m the one who caused this situation?
Can I miss people intensely and still stay true to myself?
These feelings can, among other things, be related to ostracism.
WHAT IS OSTRACISM?
Ostracism means that someone is ignored or excluded by one or more others.
That can be very visible: someone is no longer invited or spoken to.
But it can also happen quietly. Messages go unanswered. People look away when you run into each other. Family conversations continue without you. People who were a natural part of your life for years treat you as if you no longer belong.
So there doesn’t have to be any shouting, threatening, or insulting for exclusion to be painful.
Psychologist Kipling Williams has been researching ostracism for decades. His research shows that social exclusion can threaten four fundamental human needs:
Belonging
Do I still belong anywhere?
Self-worth
Am I still important to others?
Control
Can I do anything to change this situation?
A meaningful existence
Am I still seen? Do I still matter?
Even relatively short experimental situations of exclusion can undermine these needs. Long-term loss of contact with people with whom someone has a strong emotional bond is, of course, far more complex.
WHY DOES EXCLUSION HURT SO MUCH?
People are social beings.
Throughout our evolutionary history, other people were important for protection, food, cooperation, care, and survival.
We see something similar in many social animals. In various social species, relationships with peers can be linked to health and chances of survival.
That is why the comparison with a herd is understandable.
But scientifically, we cannot say:
“An animal that is cast out of its herd usually dies.”
Reality is too different from species to species and from situation to situation for that.
What we do know is that isolation can have serious consequences for social animals, and that strong social bonds in different species are linked to health and survival.
Social connectedness is also important for human health and well-being.
That is why exclusion can be experienced much more deeply than simply:
“Too bad, these people don’t speak to me anymore.”
It can feel like:
“My family still exists. My group still exists. I’m just no longer part of it.”
YOU’RE NOT JUST LOSING PEOPLE
This may be one of the hardest parts of long-term exclusion.
Your family and old friends are not only people you love.
They are witnesses to your life.
Your brother still remembers what your childhood home looked like.
Your sister still remembers what happened on that one vacation.
Your parents know events from your childhood.
A childhood friend may remember people and situations you could still laugh about together years later.
With someone who was there, sometimes all you have to say is:
“Remember?”
And the other person knows exactly what you mean.
Sometimes it is precisely nice to reminisce together.
Not because you want to dwell on the past, but because shared memories are part of human connection.
Research on autobiographical memory shows that memories do not only help preserve events from our past. They also have social and identity functions.
When many people who witnessed your past disappear at the same time, you do not literally lose part of your memory or identity.
But it can feel that way.
As if part of your life archive can suddenly no longer be shared.
IT CAN FEEL LIKE AN AMPUTATION
Some people describe long-term loss of their social environment as:
“It feels like part of me has been amputated.”
That is not a medical description of ostracism.
It is a metaphor.
But the image is understandable.
The people who disappear can be interwoven with twenty, thirty, forty, or more years of your life.
Your childhood.
Your upbringing.
Your relationships.
Your children.
Vacations.
Sadness.
Jokes.
Mistakes.
Family stories.
Moments almost nobody else knows ever existed.
New people can become incredibly important.
But someone you meet today cannot have been there when you were ten.
That is why the remark:
“Why not just make new friends?”
can fall short.
New people can make new memories with you.
But they do not automatically replace a shared past.
MOURNING PEOPLE WHO ARE STILL ALIVE
Ostracism can therefore cause a special kind of loss.
The people you miss have not died.
They are still alive.
They may not even live far from you.
You know your mother, father, brother, sister, child, or old friend is simply continuing to live.
But you are no longer, or hardly any longer, part of that life.
Researchers who interviewed former Jehovah's Witnesses used the phrase “grieving the living” for this:
mourning the living.
In that study, former Jehovah's Witnesses described ostracism, loss of social identity, and reduced psychological well-being, among other things.
It was a small qualitative study. The findings therefore cannot be applied to every former Jehovah's Witness.
But the phenomenon is indeed being studied scientifically. The version on your website rightly notes this limitation.
AND YET YOU KNOW: I MIGHT STILL GO BACK
This is where a very complicated dilemma arises.
The people are still there.
And maybe you know:
If I go back to the faith, I might be welcomed in by everyone again.
On the one hand, you may think:
I no longer believe what I used to believe.
I do not want to live within a system I no longer believe in.
I want to be able to make my own choices.
I want to stay true to myself.
And at the same time, another thought can be very strong:
But I miss my people.
You may want your mother back.
Your children.
Your brothers and sisters.
Your friends.
The people who know your history.
The familiar feeling of belonging somewhere.
Those two feelings can exist at the same time.
You can miss your family intensely without believing again.
And you can stand by your choice while at the same time feeling deep grief over its consequences.
“BUT DIDN’T I CHOOSE THIS MYSELF?”
This can bring on heavy feelings of guilt.
Family members may think or say:
“You walked away.”
“This is your choice.”
And over time, you may start to think that yourself too.
That is why it can help to separate two different choices.
The first choice may be:
“I can no longer say I believe something when I no longer believe it.”
The other choice may be:
“Because you no longer believe the same as we do, we will have no or limited contact with you.”
Those are not the same decisions.
That does not automatically mean family members have bad intentions. They may sincerely believe that what they are doing is religiously right or necessary.
But someone who changes their religious beliefs is not thereby automatically responsible for every social consequence others attach to that change.
You can think at the same time:
“I understand that they are acting from their faith.”
and:
“It hurts terribly what is happening to our relationship because of this.”
WHY GOING BACK CAN FEEL SO ATTRACTIVE
This is important for family members and helpers to understand.
Someone may consider going back without being convinced of the faith again.
Maybe what that person misses most is:
the family;
the friends;
the community;
the familiarity;
the shared history;
the taken-for-granted “we.”
That is why, when someone says:
“Maybe I should just go back.”
an important follow-up question may be:
“What exactly do you miss?”
The answer may be:
“Not the faith. My people.”
OSTRACISM AND MENTAL HEALTH
You previously asked whether ostracism can be called “the worst form of psychological abuse.”
Scientifically, we cannot say that.
There is no reliable scientific ranking that can identify ostracism as the worst form of psychological abuse.
What research does support is that prolonged social exclusion can be profoundly harmful.
Loneliness and social isolation are linked to poorer psychological and physical well-being. Research has also found associations between severe loneliness and suicidal thoughts and behaviors.
That emphatically does not mean:
ostracism causes suicide.
Suicidality is complex and usually has multiple factors.
But it does mean that prolonged exclusion, loss of a social network, hopelessness, and severe loneliness should not be minimized.
That is precisely relevant for general practitioners and psychologists who are supporting someone who has lost a large part of their social network. In your current text, this distinction is also carefully described.
WHAT CAN YOU DO WITH IT?
Try not to require of yourself that you must choose between:
“I miss them.”
and:
“I don’t want to go back.”
Both feelings are allowed to exist side by side.
Also try to explore what exactly you have lost.
Do you miss the faith?
Or do you miss your family?
Your friends?
Your community?
Your familiar social life?
Your outlook on the future?
People who know your history?
The better you understand what you miss, the better you can explore which parts of it might possibly be rebuilt.
It can also help to consciously preserve your life story.
Write down memories.
Save photos.
Tell stories to your partner, children, or new friends.
New people were not present in your past.
But they can become people with whom your past is welcome.
When loneliness, gloom, guilt, or despair become increasingly heavy, it is wise to discuss this with a general practitioner, mental health practice nurse, psychologist, or other care provider.
QUESTIONS TO THINK ABOUT
• Do I miss the faith, or do I mainly miss the people?
• If my family were to have normal contact with me again tomorrow without me having to return to the faith, would I still want to go back?
• Which people witnessed important parts of my life?
• Which memories can I barely share with anyone anymore?
• What do I miss most: love, family, familiarity, community, certainty, or identity?
• Do I feel guilty because I did something that goes against my own values, or because others reject my choice?
• What price would I pay myself if I went back?
• What price do I pay if I do not go back?
• What does it mean to stay true to myself?
• Can I let love, grief, anger, relief, and doubt exist at the same time?
FOR THE GENERAL PRACTITIONER OR PSYCHOLOGIST
For someone who is being excluded for a long time, it may help to make clear that the loss may be much greater than:
“I no longer have contact with my family.”
It may involve the simultaneous loss of:
family;
friends;
community;
social identity;
daily contact;
shared memories;
familiar roles;
a view of the future;
and people who witnessed someone’s life for decades.
For former Jehovah’s Witnesses, there can be another complicated element:
the people one grieves for are still alive.
And sometimes there is at the same time the thought that restoration of those contacts might be possible if someone returned to the faith.
As a result, grief, guilt, hope, identity, faith, and belonging can constantly intermingle.
It is therefore useful not only to ask:
“Why can’t you let it go?”
but also:
Which people have you lost?
How large was your social network before and after leaving?
Who knows your life story?
Are you considering returning because you believe again, or because you miss the people?
How severe are the loneliness and hopelessness?
Are there thoughts that life no longer needs to continue, or thoughts of suicide?
That can help a care provider better understand the extent of the loss.
SUMMARY
Ostracism means that someone is ignored or excluded.
Research shows that social exclusion can threaten fundamental human needs for belonging, self-worth, control, and meaning.
For some former Jehovah’s Witnesses, exclusion can go much further than the loss of a number of social contacts.
It can be the people who were part of their lives for decades.
The people who know their childhood.
Their family history.
Their mistakes.
Their stories.
Their “remember when?”
As a result, it can feel as if not only people disappear, but as if part of one’s own life story no longer has anywhere to go.
And precisely because those people are still alive and returning to the faith may also seem to mean restoring contact, a particularly painful dilemma can arise:
Do I stay true to myself, or do I return to a faith I no longer believe in in order to get my people back?
You can miss someone intensely and at the same time know that you do not want to return to the faith.
Those two feelings do not contradict each other.
