Why now?

Every once in a while, the subject of Scientology comes up. And I'm always astounded when people are astounded to learn that I was once a Scientologist. It's not that I deliberately withhold it. It's just that it never crosses my mind.

But it's come up again lately. And now, with the release of the HBO documentary Going Clear: Scientology and the Prison of Belief, I thought I might like to share some of my musings.

I joined Scientology in March of 1976.

From March of 1976 until sometime in 1978, I was staff at Narconon - Scientology's drug rehab program.

I spent about a year on staff at the Church of Scientology in Toronto around 1979 as a recruitment officer.

I signed a Sea Org contract in 1984, but never followed through on it. (More about that later.)

I returned to staff in May 1987.

I left staff and Scientology in August of 1989.

My father says that was a year he'll never forget because the Berlin wall came down and I left Scientology.

There are three kinds of Scientology "exes":

• Those who leave staff - i.e., they no longer work there, but they're still Scientologists. This was me during the times I wasn't on staff in Scientology.

• Those who leave the church - i.e., they separate (what they perceive to be) the wheat from the chaff. Some join up with other ex-Scientologists. Some just wander aimlessly, lost and forlorn. They've left the church, but the church hasn't left them.

• Those who leave Scientology - i.e., they throw the baby out with the bathwater. That was me in August 1989.

I left Scientology, and I've never looked back, never wondered if it was a mistake. I know it wasn't.

I also never think about it. My life is "so full of a number of things" that I can't imagine cluttering up with mind with it. Until now.

And so I'd like to share what it was like to work in the forgotten, neglected, insignificant Scientology backwater of Toronto org during the '80s - although I can't imagine it's improved much since then.

These are my stories - in no particular order.

I also want to pay tribute to those who stayed behind: the hard-working, well-meaning, and misguided org staff, who pay for ... well, nothing, actually, with their blood, sweat, and tears. I hope they all find their way out one day.