'The Roots of Scientology Are Witchcraft': Joy Villa Drops Bombshell Claims About Hollywood's Most Famous Cult

Joy Villa has accused Scientology of being rooted in 'witchcraft' and 'extremely dark' practices, telling a US podcast that Jesus 'saved her life' after she left the controversial movement in Hollywood three years ago. The singer and outspoken conservative, who spent around 15 years in Scientology after moving to Los Angeles as a young performer, said on The Bible Bros Podcast that she is now a born-again Christian and is speaking out to warn others.

Villa first rose to wider fame not for her music but for her headline-grabbing red carpet appearances, particularly at US award shows where she wore pro-Donald Trump dresses and slogans that split opinion even among conservatives. Long before that, though, she says she was a minister's daughter in a Christian home, then a traumatised teenager chasing an acting and singing career in an industry she describes as cynical and predatory. Her account of being lured into Scientology sits squarely in that gap between faith and fame.

'I grew up Christian, born again, saved, evangelical,' Villa told the podcast, recalling that her father served as a minister. Despite that religious upbringing, she said she carried the scars of sexual abuse suffered as a child, an experience she believes set the stage for years of inner turmoil. She spoke of 'demonic feelings' and a recurring sense that she 'shouldn't be here,' language that, even filtered through hindsight, hints at how close she felt to giving up altogether.

Those early years, as she tells it, were marked by isolation and suicidal thoughts alongside the relentless self-promotion demanded by Hollywood. As she edged into her late teens and early twenties, the search for work and validation intensified. When the glitz thinned out, what remained was a young woman with no parents, no stable base and an aching need to belong somewhere that looked safe.

Joy Villa Describes Scientology's 'Family' Promise

Villa said her first encounter with Scientology came when she was invited to the organisation's Celebrity Centre in Hollywood after a runway gig. The approach was friendly and polished. 'They're smiling, they're bright, they're clean, they're shaking your hand,' she recalled. For someone buffeted by rejection, that kind of attention can feel less like recruitment and more like relief.

What began as free personality tests and introductory classes soon became an all-encompassing way of life, according to Villa. She described being drawn in with acting workshops, seminars and a tight-knit social circle that appeared to offer exactly what she had lost. 'They kind of suck you in with this community,' she said. 'They're like, "Oh, we'll be your family."'

Over roughly 15 years, that substitute family became, in her words, suffocating. Villa likened the gradual deepening of her involvement to 'boiling the frog very slowly' so that by the time she realised how far she had gone, it 'was too late'. She also said some people inside Scientology identified as Christians, which muddied the waters for her spiritually and made the shift seem less like a break with her childhood faith and more like an evolution.

It is worth stressing that these are Villa's allegations, drawn from her own account of her time in the movement. The Church of Scientology is not quoted in the original report and has long rejected accusations that its practices are abusive or deceptive, so her characterisations remain strongly contested territory. Nothing in her description has been independently verified for this piece and should be taken with that in mind.

Joy Villa Links Scientology 'Darkness' to Witchcraft

As she moved further up Scientology's internal ladder, Villa said the tone shifted from support to spiritual pressure. She described 'extremely dark' experiences, including working exhausting hours and spending what she called 'massive amounts of money' in an effort to progress. Alongside the financial and emotional strain, she spoke of hearing tormenting voices telling her she was worthless.

The most startling line from the interview is her claim that 'the roots of Scientology are witchcraft'. Villa did not unpack that in granular detail in the published account, but the phrase gives a sense of how she now interprets her former beliefs through a Christian lens. 'It works in the beginning,' she said of the system she once devoted herself to. 'But the cost will destroy you.'

According to her testimony, that cost very nearly included her life. Villa recounted a breakdown on her kitchen floor, where she cried out, 'Jesus help me,' convinced she might otherwise end it all. That moment, she said, marked the start of her departure from Scientology and her return to the faith of her childhood.

Villa says she left the organisation three years ago and has since been rebaptised, describing herself now as 'born again and out of Scientology'. She claims that more than 100 people she had once brought in have also walked away since her exit, which she interprets as part of a wider redemption story. 'Praise God, He set me free,' she told the podcast, framing her losses in career and status as the price of regaining her soul. 'I lost a lot. But I found Jesus again. I'm the sheep. He left the 99 to find one.'

Nothing in her account has been formally confirmed by Scientology or external investigators, and her story is, by definition, one-sided. Yet in a town where image management is practically a profession, Villa's decision to attach her name to claims of 'demonic darkness' carries its own quiet charge.