Troublemaker: Surviving Hollywood and Scientology

Troublemaker
is a work of nonfiction based on the life, experiences, and recollections of Leah Remini.

Copyright © 2015 by Leah Remini

All rights reserved.

Published in the United States by Ballantine Books, an imprint of Random House, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, New York.

B
ALLANTINE
and the H
OUSE
colophon are registered trademarks of Penguin Random House LLC.

Unless otherwise noted, all photos are from the author’s personal collection.

ISBN 9781101886960

eBook ISBN 9781101886977

randomhousebooks.com

Book design by Susan Turner

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In a time of universal deceit—telling the truth is a revolutionary
act.

Let me start with this:

I am an apostate.

I have lied. I have cheated. I have done things in my life that I am not proud of, including but not limited to:

The same goes for every single person in my family:

Why am I revealing all this? Because after the Church of Scientology gets hold of this book, it may well spend an obscene amount
of money running ads, creating websites, and trotting out celebrities to make public statements that their religious beliefs are being attacked—all in an attempt to discredit me by disparaging my reputation and that of anyone close to me. So let me save them some money. There is no shortage of people who would be willing to say “Leah can be an asshole”—my own mother can attest to that. And if I am all these things the church may claim, then isn’t it also accurate to say that in the end, thirty-plus years of dedication, millions of dollars spent, and countless hours of study and training didn’t really “fix” me? Perhaps Scientology doesn’t work.

S
INCE
I
LEFT
THE
C
HURCH
of Scientology in 2013, I am often asked the question “How does someone like you get involved with an organization like Scientology?” Or some people may phrase it more like “How the fuck did you get into some crazy shit like this?”

Describing Scientology is no easy undertaking for anyone. There are plenty of people (many of whom are smarter than I am and have more formal education) who have worked to define and examine the church and the sway it holds over its members. This book, written from my heart and based on personal knowledge, is my attempt to portray my experience within Scientology and the repercussions I endured as a result.

So while I may not be able to say in a few brief sentences why I became involved in Scientology and remained a member for decades, I can tell you that whether you were raised in the organization or came to it after falling out with your own religion, traditions, or family, the central tenet of Scientology, as stated by its founder, L. Ron Hubbard (LRH), is incredibly alluring. Scientology offers a clearly laid out scientific process that helps you to overcome your limitations and realize your full potential for greatness. It is presented as a well-defined path to achieving total spiritual freedom and enlightenment and a full understanding of yourself and others. LRH wrote that the aims of Scientology are

“a civilization without insanity, without criminals and without war, where the able can prosper and honest beings can have rights, and where Man is free to rise to greater heights.”

He went on to state:

“What is true for you is what you have observed
yourself
. And when you lose that, you have lost everything.”

As well as:

“Don’t take my word that Scientology works or doesn’t work, use it and see for yourself. Take what works and throw away the rest.”

I, along with many others, found these approaches to be hugely empowering. I was taken with the idea that a deep, systematic, and straightforward wisdom on how to live the best life for myself (and the planet) could be presented before me in a direct, tangible, and comprehensive way. Through rigorous study and regular counseling (called “auditing” in Scientology), I could work toward the ultimate goal of “going Clear,” meaning I would no longer be affected by the part of my mind ruled by pain and irrationality. This promise of a higher living and way of thinking drew me in, along with thousands of others who were looking for an alternative to therapy or more traditional self-help.

I, like many current Scientologists, was a second-generation practitioner (meaning you were either born into Scientology or brought in by your parents as a child). When you are raised in the church, your whole life—each and every day—becomes all about the church. Unlike members of other churches or synagogues, who attend Sunday Mass or Shabbat dinner once a week, as a Scientologist you are expected to spend a minimum of two and a half hours a day, every day, seven days a week, at church, studying and/or in counseling. The same goes for your family, friends, and business associates. It’s no wonder the indoctrination quickly sets up an “us
against them” mentality. To leave, to question it, would mean leaving anything and everything you have ever known. And because you were raised in the church, your world consists almost exclusively of Scientologists.

For those who are not born into the church or brought in as children, the attraction to join is most definitely there. Imagine you are struggling in your life, in your career, or you are maybe an actor with little or no fame. You walk into a Scientology church or a Celebrity Centre (a Scientology church that caters specifically to artists), having been enticed by an ad you read in a magazine about improving your life or career. You are impressed with the beautiful building, and the welcoming people there. They offer you food, listen to what you have to say. Maybe you talk about how your parents are not supportive of your endeavors, and they respond, “Wow, that is not cool. You
can
achieve your goals in life. Maybe you need to step away from your parents’ negativity for a bit and do a course here that will help you to reach your goals.” You feel vindicated.
This person understands me. He or she is my ally. This group believes in me.
In the real world you may feel like you are nothing, but here you are treated with respect.

The other aspect of Scientology that draws people in is the recognition the church bestows on its members for their donations. Let’s say you are a successful businessperson. Where else would you be pulled up onstage with crowds cheering in admiration for the million(s) you have donated? You are doted on by the church at this level, recognized, and made to feel special. Very enticing. Or what if you are someone who earns $45,000 a year? You’re now going to be celebrated and acknowledged for your $2,000 contribution (even if you have no money the church will find a way for you to borrow it) with a framed certificate in calligraphy certifying your donation. This in turn, again, makes you feel special. You believe you are doing great things for not only yourself, but for all of mankind. This type of celebration and recognition works on members of all levels.

During my thirty-plus years in Scientology I spent close to
$2 million for services and training, and donated roughly $3 million to church causes. Most members, regardless of their income, over a lifetime in the church spend upwards of $500,000 to get to the highest levels, which often takes more than twenty years. During this time, they are required to purchase roughly 300 books, 3000 lectures, and 100 courses.

Scientologists funnel their hard work, money, and emotional capital right back into the church, often to the detriment of their own lives. They may sacrifice relationships with family members, contact with friends, and their life savings to move up through the assigned spiritual levels that are dictated by the church’s principles. They do this because they’re indoctrinated with the belief that Scientology has the answers not only to their own ills but to the ills of all humankind.

I
HAVE NO DOUBT THAT
when this book comes out, Scientologists will scream about religious intolerance, say that I am a liar, that I was kicked out of the church, and call
Troublemaker
the work of a hateful bigot or a self-absorbed person with an “insatiable craving for attention.” (That last part might not be totally untrue; I am an actress, after all.) What they will likely not do, however, is actually read this book, because that would be going against one of the basic tenets of Scientology. A member should not read or watch anything generated by someone whom the church has declared a Suppressive Person, or SP, someone who in the church’s eyes and by LRH’s policy is found to be a threat to Scientology. Once the church has labeled you an SP, you are “Declared,” and as a result, you are cut off from all practicing Scientologists.

So I have been declared by the church to be a Suppressive Person because I questioned, spoke out against, and refused to abide by the hypocrisy that had become my life. The church has lashed out at me in the press and will continue to do so, but the reality is that the church has benefited from me, my money, my time, my celebrity
status, and my family. Everything I had dedicated myself to for all those years was taken away in an instant when I was declared an SP. I was the one left with the heartbreak of feeling that the unraveling of my faith and fate, and life as I knew it, was primarily influenced by two people: Tom Cruise, the church’s most coveted, celebrated, and protected celebrity member, and David Miscavige, the tyrannical leader and current head of the church. Ironically, for me and for most other people who have left the church and spoken out against it, the very qualities that we’ve been penalized for—defying, questioning, thinking independently—are the same qualities that made us prime candidates for Scientology in the first place.

According to church policy, since I have been declared a Suppressive Person, all church members, including dozens of my closest friends and family must “disconnect” from me, meaning cutting any and all ties (though thankfully my mother, stepfather, sister, and brother-in-law have stood by me). No more contact. Ever.

I am not the first to leave and speak out against Scientology. Many, like me, have questioned a faith that erratically labels its followers, constantly encourages its parishioners to donate their life savings (and beyond) to its coffers, kicks its followers out of a religion they have believed in and dedicated themselves to. It is to the Church of Scientology that I say this: I wrote this book because I feel an urgency and responsibility to reveal the injustices and hypocrisy that were perpetrated against those who left and spoke out before me. Those who again and again have been harassed and bullied into silence. This book is also a personal act of defiance—against intolerance, which I have witnessed, lived with, and been part of for far too long.