Troublemaker: Surviving Hollywood and Scientology (24 page)

Once I realized that about Scientology, I could no longer stay in it. And I never looked back. The big mistake I made, however, was in trying to change the system instead of just changing myself.

I didn’t need to fight the machine, make it wrong in order to
prove myself right. If Scientologists are happy in the church, I say God bless. Honestly, it’s probably better for them to keep getting jerked off in the church, because they will never experience that kind of validation in the real world. Once outside the church, they would be devastated, as my family and I had been, to find out that what they had dedicated their lives (and money) to was not happening. That Scientology was in fact not clearing the planet.

I
N TRUTH,
I
AM LUCKY.
Unlike many others whose families disown them after they leave the church, my family chose to leave with me. Despite the fact that the church did everything in its power to break us apart. As much as I’d like to say my family’s leaving Scientology was out of pure love for and solidarity with me, it wasn’t
just
that. They were disillusioned with the church as well.

My mother had been on OT VII for twenty-five years, meaning that she was required to audit herself six times a day, seven days a week, 365 days a year. Additionally, my mother was asked to do more and more sec-checks, auditing, and trips to Flag (all of which, of course, cost more and more money), and finally she began to lose faith. Even someone like my mother, a woman who devoted her entire life and her family’s lives to Scientology, had the nagging feeling that she was going around in circles. But she had come so far (and spent so much money), to give up at that point would have been really depressing. “I just want to get through it,” she used to say. “I’ve been doing it this long; I just want to get through it.”

After my mom achieved OT VIII, the highest level on the auditing side of the Bridge and became a class VI auditor, the highest-classed auditor that she could become as a parishioner, she admitted it wasn’t everything she’d thought it was going to be. All those missed birthdays, vacations, and anniversaries, only to find out that Scientology’s secret to the universe hadn’t been worth it for her. She couldn’t move objects with her mind or cure cancer by the force of her will. She was still just herself. So after I proved to her that
everything I was saying about the church’s leadership was true—that they don’t apply policy and will do anything, including lie to the parishioners who pay their bills, to get their way—she was really done.

I too was done, but as Sofia said, it takes longer to be done inside. You can take the girl out of Scientology, but it’s much, much harder to take the Scientology out of the girl.

S
O W
HILE THOSE IN THE
church knew I had left Scientology, those outside the church found out courtesy of the front page of the
New York Post.
It was picked up by hundreds of news outlets around the world. The headline read:

EXCLUSIVE: ACTRESS LEAH REMINI QUITS SCIENTOLOGY AFTER YEARS OF “INTERROGATIONS”

As a response, in a statement to
The Hollywood Reporter,
I said, “I wish to share my sincere and heartfelt appreciation for the overwhelming positive response I have received from the media, my colleagues and fans from around the world. I am truly grateful and thankful for all your support.”

And with that, it was confirmed that I had, indeed, left.

Everywhere I looked I now realized that my world was
not
being helped by Scientology. Previously I had blinders on. Because I had to. If I didn’t, I would have had to make a decision that would affect not just me, but also my entire family.

Unlike most people who grew up in the church, I always
maintained friendships outside of the church. I guess in a way I was always disaffected. My Scientology friends didn’t really have non-Scientology friends. And if it appeared that they did, it was merely to eventually, over time, recruit them into the church.

It was a good thing that I insisted on keeping friends outside the church, because once they found out I had left, they immediately reached out with their support and kindness.

Kevin James called me and said, “How’s your family? Are you guys all intact?” He said he was proud of me, that we were brave, and told me whatever I needed he was there.

Chelsea Handler texted me from out of the country when she heard the news. “Hey Twat, be home in a few days, hope you are okay and if you are not, let me know what you need and I will be there.”

Michelle Visage, a friend I had met and grown close to during my
King of Queens
days, called me right away: “Are you home, I am coming over.” And she did. Michelle also publicly came to my defense, which is a lot, knowing how the church deals with anyone defending someone who attacks Scientology.

My longtime friend Lucille from Brooklyn was crying when I picked up her phone call. She said, “Lee, do you have your family with you? I just need to know they left the church with you.”

“Yes, Lu, they are with me,” I said, consoling her.

My ex-boyfriend’s mother texted me: “Lee, I loved you before, but I don’t think I ever respected you and your family more than today.”

I had a community of people supporting me and my family on social media, in the press, in emails—small gestures that meant everything. But my publicist instructed me not to talk to the media because she didn’t want me to be known as “the person who left the church.” But I also didn’t want to be known as “the person who said ‘no comment.’ ” I was definitely caught between being the girl who speaks out and the girl who just wants to work and be known for that work.

I did a few interviews where I tried to explain my position while not going into too much detail. But anything I said was blown out of proportion to make a headline. The church’s dismissals and bullying of those who had left before me and spoken out made it harder and harder to remain silent. I called my publicist daily to ask, “Please, can I tell the media the truth and have the church challenge and debate me, instead of defenseless people?”

“Of course you could,” my publicist always responded. “But why?”

The
why
was—somebody needs to stand up for those who can’t. But I understood what my rep was saying; I was still angry, confused, and experiencing myriad emotions I couldn’t make sense of. I didn’t yet know how to tell my story from a place of strength as opposed to one of just pain and anger.

Certainly, I couldn’t do that on a five-minute segment on
Ellen
. But while I was promoting the seventeenth season of
Dancing with the Stars,
which I competed in right after I left the church, that’s all people wanted to talk to me about. Instead of fighting it, I chose to deal with it in a way that sent a message but wasn’t too in-your-face.

In the first week of the ABC show, during a filmed rehearsal with my partner, Tony Dovolani, I made the following statement, which was picked up by various media outlets all over the world. “I’m going through a personal and big change for me and my family,” I said. “The church is looking for me to fail so they can say to their parishioners, ‘See what happens when you leave the church?’ They’re waiting for me to fail.”

In response to my comment, the church issued its own to
Good Morning America
: “We know this may come as a surprise to someone as self-absorbed as Ms. Remini, but we could care less if she wins or loses on
Dancing with the Stars
.”

That was the on-air drama. There was so much more going on, however, off camera, including Tony being surveilled and followed by a car for two weeks. Maksim Chmerkovskiy, Kirstie’s dance partner and friend from when she was on the show, was given the cold
shoulder by Kirstie when she found out he had been at my house. Maks didn’t take it too hard. “I’m Jewish,” Maks said. “I don’t really believe in science fiction, but whatever. It’s sad that we’ve gone through so much together, and I feel like I’ve helped her. And this is where we’re at now. But I think the world of her, and I wish her the best.”

Kirstie also went on
The Howard Stern Show,
where she said that I “was very critical” after leaving Scientology. Then she made a completely disingenuous comment: “There’s nothing going on, and there was nothing going on for years,” she said. “I didn’t shun her, but if a lot of people are rejecting you, at some point you gotta ask, ‘What am I doing?’ I mean, that’s what I would have asked myself.”

When actor and former Scientologist Jason Beghe, whom I had met and befriended in acting class, was asked in an interview if he thought Scientology wanted me to fail, he responded, “It’s not just that they want you to fail. It’s kind of like they want you to die.”

Tony Dovolani had no idea what he was getting himself into when he found out that he was getting me as a partner for
Dancing with the Stars
.

With only few exceptions, over the seasons, Tony was known for getting the short end of the stick when it came to dancing partners. Perhaps for this very reason I had requested him as a partner (that and the fact that Angelo approved of him); I just knew he would be right for me. I couldn’t see myself dancing with anyone else. When they paired us, I remember thinking,
This poor guy, he is in for a shitstorm.

Tony wasn’t familiar with the Church of Scientology. So I filled him in a little. But he learned more by observing me than by what I shared with him. My family and I had just left the church and I was dealing with the fallout, including the media attention that came with it. It was a lot to cope with. Our lives had changed in an instant. But I had made the decision to do this show and I didn’t want to fail, despite the fact that I had NO prior dance experience. Not even
The Nutcracker
as a kid.

Tony’s job is difficult. He has to become all things to a perfect stranger from day one. In a normal season, all he might have to deal with is a person’s insecurities with dancing, but with me, he not only had to hold my hand through dances, but he had to deal with a whole other set of issues. He had to maneuver through my defenses, through my tears, my anxieties and insecurities on a daily basis. He was there for me when I needed him, when my friends from the church had deserted my family and me. If a workday was supposed to be four hours, Tony gave me twelve. He never said, “No, I can’t rehearse any more” or “No, I can’t talk to you anymore about this.” I never once heard him say, “No, and I can’t listen to one more story about your former life.” It was always and still is, “Whatever you need” and “I am here for you.” And he and his family continue to be there for me and my family.

After every show, competitors were required go through a press line with more than a dozen media outlets. Tony literally and figuratively held my hand through the first weeks of the show. He knew how I was always on the verge of tears when I was asked a question about Scientology and he would always say, “Come on, man, this woman just danced her ass off, talk about that.” He did this repeatedly.

When the producers pushed him to get me to talk about leaving the church during televised rehearsals, he turned them down. He stood up to everyone on my behalf. No matter who it was or what it was for.

I wish they awarded mirror balls for being an extraordinarily loyal friend, protector, and therapist. Because Tony would certainly win it, all while attempting to teaching me a cha-cha. For that I will always be indebted to him.

A few weeks into
Dancing with the Stars,
Tony came to me and said, “Look, the producers would like you to at least consider doing something with the Scientology subject.” Up until this point, Tony and the show’s producer had done a great job of protecting me from the constant questions from the press line as well as on the show. But for the Most Memorable Year show, where contestants create dances
out of the biggest moments in their lives, the producers wanted to get what was really going on in my life, and that was a big part of it.

They asked if I would consider the subject of leaving Scientology as the inspiration for the dance. I didn’t want to keep saying no to them. It was show business, after all, and I felt I had to give them something. So I chose to dance to Katy Perry’s “Roar.”

Looking at the pop song’s lyrics, I thought,
Yes, this is how I felt so many times in the church.

You held me down, but I got up

Get ready ’cause I’ve had enough

I see it all, I see it now…

I shared my idea with Tony, who loved it, as did the producers. Tony worked overtime choreographing a dance that showed me as a puppet and him as the “Church of Hypocrisy” pulling my strings, controlling me. I broke down several times during the rehearsal. I was plagued by doubt. Were people going to see this as a sad attempt for publicity? Would they get the pain involved in this? Each time I started to cry, Tony would pull me outside, away from the cameras (which was against the rules) to shield me from being filmed. Everyone on the show knew how difficult this was for me and offered me nothing but support. Sometimes the producers stopped the cameras on their own. Cheryl Burke would leave her rehearsal room with Jack Osbourne anytime they saw me and Tony go outside to talk. They gave up precious time from their own rehearsal just to be there for me. That is why I fell in love with Tony, Cheryl, Jack, and the show as a whole. It comforted me and took care of me in ways that I had never imagined.

The day of the Most Memorable Year show, I was nervous. But I told myself that people would understand what I was doing and the world would see it as my “roar.”

That night, in front of the audience and my family, Tony and I danced our hearts out. Unfortunately, the judges didn’t think much
of the dance, giving Tony and me the low score of the evening. Upon hearing this I started to cry, but Tony grabbed my shoulders and said, “Don’t you do that. Don’t let them see you like that. You were great.” As always, Tony had my back.

I couldn’t have gotten as far as I did in
DWTS
if I hadn’t had the guts to do the show in the first place. I had been asked to do the show in a previous season and had declined. I eventually agreed to do
DWTS
because I didn’t want to be scared to go out of my comfort zone; I didn’t want to care about what people thought of me anymore; I didn’t want to be judged for my decisions. The truth is I was scared to do a live show—a live show that I had to dance in! But I didn’t want to shrink from the public eye. I wanted to get myself out there, and that’s exactly what I did.