EXCLUSIVE: Why I Left Scientology—And How Jesus Set Me Free

For years, I lived two lives.

To the public, I was bold and unapologetic—the singer who wore the “Make America Great Again” dress to the Grammys, the conservative firebrand who turned heads and made headlines. But behind the spotlight, beyond the flash of cameras and curated social media posts, I was living in bondage. I was a woman trapped inside a system that promised healing, success, and spiritual enlightenment—but slowly drained me of my identity, hope, and peace.

That system was Scientology. And today, I can finally say: I’m free.

For the full story, read my upcoming book, From Scientology to Christ: The Escape They Never Wanted Me to Make, available October 11th, 2025 on Amazon. You can pre-order it now!

Like many who walk through its doors, I didn’t set out to join a cult. I was a young woman in Hollywood, bruised by rejection, disoriented by grief, and starving for something—anything—that would fill the void I carried from childhood. I had recently lost my father, a devoted pastor and the spiritual anchor of our family. His sudden death left me adrift. I fled to New York, chasing dreams of music and acting, determined to succeed even if it meant sacrificing my soul piece by piece.

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In 2011, a modeling opportunity brought me to the Church of Scientology’s Celebrity Centre in Hollywood. The building was stunning—grand staircases, lush gardens, whispers of fame and fortune—and for a struggling performer desperate to feel seen, it felt like destiny. That night marked the beginning of what would become a 15-year descent into spiritual deception.

They started with kindness. A free personality test. A $50 course. Smiles, attention, affirmations. “You’re special.” “You have incredible potential.” “You belong here.” Those words felt like water to a parched soul. I believed them. I wanted to believe them.

What I didn’t realize then was that the love was conditional, the kindness transactional. And the deeper I went, the more I would lose.

Over the next decade and a half, I gave everything to Scientology. I studied up to 12 hours a day, six days a week. I volunteered. I promoted the church in interviews, filmed a “Meet a Scientologist” segment, even brought over a hundred people into the fold. I invested more than $1.5 million. I told myself I was climbing “The Bridge to Total Freedom,” a journey that promised to bring healing, self-mastery, and spiritual power.

But the more I gave, the more they demanded. And the further I climbed, the emptier I felt.

Any time I experienced doubt, fear, or sorrow, I was told it was my fault. According to their doctrine, I had “pulled it in.” If I suffered abuse, I had created the conditions for it. If I felt depressed, I was “dramatizing.” There was no room for real healing—only endless auditing sessions, courses, and spiritual gaslighting that kept me tethered to guilt and performance.

One session in particular still haunts me. Under intense questioning, I was forced to revisit a childhood memory of being sexually abused at the age of four. Rather than receiving compassion, I was told I had caused it. That moment marked a breaking point. I didn’t have the language for it then, but I know now what it was: spiritual abuse.

Scientology was not the only trap. The entertainment industry itself—the very world I thought would validate and complete me—was soaked in a similar kind of spiritual confusion and manipulation.

Hollywood sells an illusion: that fame is freedom, that beauty is power, that influence is salvation. But behind the scenes, I witnessed things that chilled my spirit—ritualistic parties, occult influences masquerading as enlightenment, powerful people using others as pawns. I began to learn more about L. Ron Hubbard, Scientology’s founder, and his ties to Jack Parsons and Aleister Crowley—men whose lives were steeped in occultism, black magic, and anti-Christian ideology.

I had no idea, at first, that the system I had devoted myself to was built on foundations that denied Jesus Christ and mocked God’s design for truth, healing, and redemption. But eventually, the spiritual heaviness became undeniable. What had once felt like light now revealed itself as shadow. I was not being elevated. I was being emptied.

At the same time, my personal life was unraveling. My marriage, formed inside the walls of this tightly controlled world, became a mirror of everything wrong in my spiritual journey. On paper, we had it all—wealth, success, influence—but behind closed doors, our relationship felt hollow, performative, emotionally distant. I kept striving to be the perfect wife, to earn affection I never truly received. I believed, as Scientology had taught me, that if I could just be more ethical, more obedient, more committed, everything would finally fall into place.

But it never did. I gave everything—and I was still alone.

Even in a mansion overlooking the Pacific, I felt like a prisoner. I was dying inside.

And yet I stayed, afraid that leaving would mean starting over. That it would mean admitting I’d been deceived. That I’d sacrificed everything for a lie.

The final shift came in the most unexpected way: through a small act of defiance. I begged my husband to let me travel to Los Angeles for a music conference. It was a tiny spark of rebellion—one small attempt to reclaim something for myself.

In LA, surrounded by music and people who saw me as more than a pawn or a project, I remembered who I was. I recorded five songs in two days, threw myself into creativity, and began to feel the Holy Spirit stirring—though I didn’t yet recognize it.

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That album, recorded in secret and released independently, would go on to hit #1 on Billboard. And when I walked the red carpet at the Grammys—wearing that now-famous Trump dress—I wasn’t just making a political statement. I was breaking free. Piece by piece, my chains were falling.

But true deliverance was still ahead.

In my darkest season, when Scientology had turned on me and Hollywood no longer welcomed me, I fell to my knees. Not out of religious obligation, but out of desperation.

And that’s when Jesus found me.

Not a “higher power.” Not a concept. Not an abstract energy.

A person. A Savior.

He didn’t ask me to perform. He didn’t demand I confess my every flaw to earn love. He simply met me where I was—broken, ashamed, exhausted—and said, “Come home.”

And I did.

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Today, I no longer live for status, applause, or spiritual self-help. I live for Jesus Christ.

I’ve renounced Scientology. I’ve turned away from the New Age and the occult. I’ve found peace not through endless striving, but through surrender. I’ve experienced real healing—not the illusion of control, but the presence of a loving God who sees, saves, and restores.

This is my story. This is my testimony. And I share it not to condemn, but to offer hope.

To anyone trapped in a system that promises power but delivers pain: There is a way out. His name is Jesus.

He set me free.

And now, I will spend the rest of my life pointing people toward the only One who truly can.

Read more in my new memoir, From Scientology to Christ: The Escape They Never Wanted Me to Make, available October 11th, 2025 on Amazon. You can pre-order it now!

Joy Villa is a bestselling artist, award-winning actress, and #1 Billboard chart-topping singer-songwriter known for her bold voice in pop culture, crypto, and health advocacy. As a columnist for Liberty Affair, she brings her fearless perspective to cultural shifts, blockchain innovation, and wellness trends. Follow her on X: @theJoyVilla