Jenna Miscavige was born into Scientology. This is what she wants you to know about the 'cult'.

From the outside, Scientology tries to present itself as a beacon of self-improvement and spiritual enlightenment. For those like Jenna Miscavige, who was born into it, the reality was far darker. 

Jenna, niece of Scientology leader David Miscavige, grew up in the Sea Organisation (Sea Org), a group of the most devout Scientologists.

Scientology's teachings rest on the idea of reincarnated souls, or "thetans," who have lived for billions of years. But what that means for children raised within it is that they're seen — and treated — as adults.

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"Scientology believes that you are a spiritual being who lives lifetime after lifetime… Even if you're a child, they believe that you are a billion-year-old being. And so they just think of you as an adult," Jenna explained in a video posted to her YouTube channel.

At just 15 years old, Jenna discovered exactly what that belief system meant for her life. After spending her childhood largely separated from her parents, she was overwhelmed by a sudden and undeniable longing to speak to them.

But when she tried to call them, she was physically stopped.

"The person responsible for making sure people toed the line and didn't do things that were unethical was hanging up the phone," she continued. "Three adult women were holding me down plus a male security guard."

Jenna vividly recalled the experience at Scientology's facility in Clearwater, Florida. Phones were carefully monitored to prevent unauthorised contact. Only one had unrestricted access, and it became Jenna's only lifeline — until she was violently pulled away from it.

What followed was punishment from the top. She saw her uncle, David Miscavige, shortly after. He asked why she was in trouble, and she told him. "He said that what I did was disgusting and, 'No more special treatment for me,'" she recalled. 

Later, David's wife, Shelly Miscavige, enforced even harsher measures. Jenna was subjected to round-the-clock monitoring, gruelling labour, and complete isolation.

"Someone would sit outside my door while I slept … follow me around all day … and into the bathroom if I needed to go."

Indeed, life in Scientology's inner circle meant endless punishments for any number of perceived transgressions.

Jenna detailed the humiliating and dehumanising "consequences" she endured: cleaning bathrooms with a toothbrush, interrogation by senior officials, and even being forced to eat in a bathroom to avoid being seen by her uncle David. The control extended to every aspect of her life.

The cost of defiance was more than just physical control. For Jenna, the emotional toll of being separated from her parents was irreparable. While she eventually reunited with them briefly when she was 16, the bond that could have been nurtured during her childhood was shattered.

"When you take people away from their parents, their brothers, their sisters … physically separating them, not allowing them to have contact or be nurtured… You cannot replace the importance of early childhood nurturing," she said.

By the time Jenna was allowed to live with her parents again, she barely knew them.

Her education had been sacrificed to Scientology, too. She attended school only one day a week until she was 16 — a system she described as leaving her far behind academically.

"I was also groomed to think that outside schools were basically drugged by evil psychiatrists," she said, referencing Scientology's staunch anti-psychology stance.

But she never stopped questioning what was happening around her. And, in 2001, Jenna's life took a turn.

She met Dallas Hill, another Scientologist, and the two married shortly thereafter. In 2004, they were sent on a church mission to Australia.

Away from the tight grasp of the church's leaders, Jenna and Dallas were able to access television and the internet. For the first time, they encountered criticisms of Scientology, including the revealing content on Operation Clambake, a site dedicated to exposing the inner workings of the church. The seeds of doubt were sown.

Realising the truth about Scientology's practices and abuses was liberating, but dangerous. And the organisation didn't make it easy to leave.

Dallas faced threats of being permanently disconnected from his family, who were still entrenched in Scientology. Despite immense pressure, including being forced to sign agreements that would fine them $10,000 for every public criticism of the church, the couple resisted.

When Jenna was 21, they finally escaped Scientology's clutches, starting a new chapter in their lives. The couple, while now divorced, share two children.

Today, Jenna is still rebuilding her identity outside of Scientology, as well as her relationship with her parents. Her story is marked by betrayals and broken bonds that can never fully be repaired.

"I'm not saying you can never have a relationship with your parents, but that early bond — the trust, the nurturing — can't be fixed later in life," she explained.

Now an outspoken advocate against Scientology, Jenna channels her story into exposing the cult-like control mechanisms that dominated her upbringing. 

"Scientology isn't just a collection of silly beliefs that are cute or funny… that have to do with aliens or just things that weird celebrities believe in. This is an actually dangerous and abusive cult that harms children," she said.

"The celebrities that pay money into this cult, who are adults and have access to the internet and all of these stories… they still choose to ignore it… and promote it. And that's not OK."

Feature Image: YouTube/Jenna Miscavige