When I was growing up, there was no Christmas – at least, not one that was recognised in our household. As Jehovah’s Witnesses, we were taught that it was a dressed-up pagan festival that had nothing to do with the Bible and should be avoided. At school, I’d even be hauled out of any Christmas assemblies and made to feel alienated from the other kids. When the big day came, my family just went out knocking on doors as usual, looking for souls to save. I’d skulk behind them, praying that none of my schoolfriends were on the other side of those doors. To Jehovah’s Witnesses, Christmas is ‘worldly’. That is to say: a bad thing.

I left all this behind as a teenager and my life is now, well, more ‘worldly’. I’m married to Jamie Vardy, captain of Leicester City FC, and am mother to five children. My eldest has just left for uni and my youngest just started daycare. I never expected to lead a life so heavily documented by the tabloids, or to be invited to compete on shows like Dancing on Ice. I certainly didn’t expect what became known as the ‘Wagatha Christie’ trial. If you care, you’ll know the details. If you don’t, I’ll spare you: thinking about it is a total waste of time and energy. All I’ll say is that I know the truth, as do many others. Anyway I’ve had more than my fair share of limelight over the years. Whether you want it or not, it gives you a platform. What matters, I suppose, is what you do with it.

This year, I made a television documentary exploring what I have come to see as the controlling and often-abusive culture of the Jehovah’s Witnesses. Until I was 15, my whole life was based around its beliefs. It was drilled into me that if I didn’t follow the rules, I would die. Followers are told that a violent end of the world is imminent and that when it comes, non-believers will suffer an agonising death. The nature of that death is shown in children’s books with abhorrent, terrifying images about the world’s destruction. All this instilled fear in me from a young age. Fear also stops people from leaving, including the fear of losing your community. After my parents’ divorce, for example, my mum was ‘disfellowshipped’. We ended up being rejected not only by family members but by the congregation, people who had been friends for years. This is ‘shunning’, one of the most controversial practices. For years after, I struggled to conform with how society wanted me to be. I became a bit of a rebel, until I had children.

Being a mum to kids aged four, six, nine, 13 and 18 can be quite testing, to say the least. I didn’t want my unusual childhood experience to unduly influence me as a mum – which is why I wanted to tackle my past head on by making the documentary. Doing so was always going to be difficult for me and my family. That kind of abuse, including what I suffered at an early age, can make you feel like you are beyond repair and damaged for ever. But life, for me, is very different now. I think of myself as a survivor, not a victim. Of course, you can ask: should anyone care? Does it matter about how 70,000 or so Jehovah’s Witnesses organise their lives, and is it anyone else’s business? Freedom of religion is important – but I do wonder whether we should be doing more to protect children when it comes to cultlike religious institutions. This question needs more attention
than it is getting.

One of my great loves is horse-riding – which is apparently one of the most dangerous sports you can do. I found this out earlier this year when I was thrown off my horse and my foot was caught in the stirrup. I ended up being dragged around by my ankle, broke my heel and am still recovering. I’m writing this on the train to London to see the doctor for a check-up. But the injury hasn’t put me off. We have a stable at our home and I’m not giving up on it. As the saying goes, it’s time to get back in the saddle. Story of my life.

This time last year I went to a dinner with other former Jehovah’s Witnesses, all of us enjoying what was once forbidden to us. ‘Have a happy Christmas and a free Christmas,’ the host told us, ‘And do what you like. Because you are free.’ I met a man there who told me he has no fewer than six Christmas trees at home. Ex-JWs can go a bit over the top with the festivities, making up for all the years lost.

I go big on decorations, but not really on presents. The way I see it, the most precious gift is time spent with family. That’s what I’m most looking forward to. And that’s why you don’t have to be religious to say the words that even now make me feel a bit rebellious: Merry Christmas, one and all./>