When Love Has Conditions: My Experience with Shunning and Disfellowshipping

Hey Tribe, 

Let's talk about something that's often misunderstood but deeply felt; shunning, disfellowshipping and disownment; and how these practices have shaped my journey. I'm still navigating it, and I know I'm not alone. 

When you look up the word disfellowshipped, it's defined as being excluded from fellowship, often as a form of discipline. Shunning means to persistently avoid or reject someone, and disowning is to refuse to acknowledge or maintain a connection. These words may sound clinical, but for many of us, they've been lived realities; used as tools to control, isolate and instill fear. 

Inside a high-control group, these consequences don't feel threatening; until you start to question; and once you do, the fear becomes very real. I've never met anyone who made the decision to leave lightly. We're wired for connection and losing that - especially from family and lifelong friends; is a grief that's hard to put into words. 

For me, leaving meant losing access to the family home because I no longer attended meetings. I lost friends I'd known since I was six. I lost family who once promised to always be there. In those early years, I tried to fill those roles in other people, often in unhealthy ways. I didn't yet know how to tell the difference between safe and unsafe. I'm still learning; and there is beauty in that. 

For a while, I had limited contact with my parents and siblings on birthdays. They've stepped in during a couple moments of need, and I'm grateful for that. But I've also been reminded - explicitly or implicitly - that I "owe" them for those moments. That kind of conditional love creates shame and guilt, especially when all I really needed was a hug and to be told "We'll get through this together." That wasn't my reality. 

When my mental health declined, I reached out again; this time it came with questions I'd carried for years. The response I received invalidated my experience, and in a moment of pain I said things I regret. The result? My number was blocked. We've had no contact since. 

I still hold hope that one day we might mend that bridge, but I've also come to accept that they may never come to the table; and that's okay. Healing doesn't come with closure from others. Sometimes, it comes from making peace with the silence. 

This hasn't just affected me; it's affected my children also. They don't get to know their grandparents, aunts or cousins. That's a loss I still struggle to make sense of. I remind myself that my family may still love me in their own way - it's just not the way I need or deserve. 

And yet, here in 2025, there's light. Some of those old friends have returned. I've been given opportunities to share my story. I've watched communities come together to create safe, supportive spaces. It's empowering - even when it can still be triggering. 

I've had conversations I never imagined possible. I've been challenged, supported and stretched in ways that have helped me grow. Cognitive dissonance is real, and sometimes it takes time to untangle; but I'm learning and I'm not alone. 

If you ask me, no group that claims to be a safe space should ever use shunning or disowning as a tool. The harm it causes can last a lifetime. 

If you're thinking about leaving - jump. There's a whole world waiting for you to explore it on your own terms. 

Let's keep breaking those chains together. 

With love.