Monday, June 15, 2015


I haven't blogged in a while. Obviously. Because I've been keeping a secret, and I don't know how to blog without talking about what's impacting my life right now. And that secret has just been eating away at me. For months now.

Anyone who has access to my Facebook page (or knows someone who does) has likely noticed a couple of recent status updates in which I alluded to some rather serious problems in my marriage. I've declined to talk about it publicly and even to most people privately. I've been intentionally vague and occasionally even deceptive about the status of my relationship with Brett.

Why? Too many reasons to count. One, because it's personal and my marriage is nobody's business. Two, because I care about Brett and don't want to drag his name through the mud. Three, because Brett doesn't want to share the information either.

But it's gnawing on me. And I can't do it anymore.

Brett and I are separated. We will be getting a divorce. No, it's not because I left the church. It's not because of any choice I made. No, reconciliation at this point is not possible. And no, I will not give details.

In many ways, I'm still in shock. I'm still processing that yes, this actually is happening to me. It's not some horrible nightmare I'm going to wake up from. I'm dealing not only with the cold reality of a failed marriage, but also the terrifying future of being a 28-year-old single mother to 3 children. I have no degree yet. I have no relevant or recent work history. I have no idea what I'm doing. And I am terrified. The idea of being alone for years to come is incredibly scary to me. Of co-parenting with Brett, but not having someone WITH me as backup. Of facing life and its many challenges alone. Especially when this comes so closely on the heels of my faith transition when I've lost so many friends, friends who made up the bulk of my support system. The awkwardness now present in my relationship with my in-laws--because while I adore them, Brett is their son and their priority (and understandably so).

I feel like I'm sinking. I'm stuck. I have no idea how to move on from here. This isn't something you're taught to have a contingency plan for. It's not something you learn to prepare for. So I do all the reading I can, love my kids, and hope that I don't screw them up too badly.

Yes, I've withdrawn a great deal the past few months. I return phone calls and emails even less than I used to (which is saying something). Because I'm in survival mode. It's not even day to day right now, sometimes it's hour to hour. Because I don't want to pretend to be happy, but I certainly don't want to discuss my private life with anyone but a very few trusted friends. Because I'm so wrapped up in trying to figure out how to keep a roof over my kids' heads and gas in the car to go to my crappy job that I can't really think of anything else. Because I am so completely, utterly, painfully lonely.

I know people insist I'm not alone. But aren't I? Friends and family and support groups and who knows what else are great. But they're not HERE. Not with me, in my home. There's no one here when it's the end of the day and I'm so emotionally exhausted from trying to be both parents that I just can't function anymore. There's no one here to hold me in the wee hours of the morning when I'm sobbing about losing the one person I thought would always be with me. And in those moments, those hours, I am frighteningly alone.

Some people ask about my relationship with God. I don't really know how to address that, other than to say that...we're not really on speaking terms right now. Because I'm angry. With Brett, yes, of course. But with God, too. Because for years I did all the "right" stuff. Brett and I were sealed for time and eternity. I tried so hard to believe the gospel and practice it. And my life is falling apart anyway. I feel abandoned. I feel set aside. I feel...insignificant. Ignored. Not exactly conducive to having fuzzy warm feelings about God.

I don't really know what else to say. I know I'm rambling. My life sucks right now. Yes, I need love and support and I welcome that. Pray for us if that's your thing. Please be sensitive. Now is not the time to inundate me with scriptures and Ensign articles. Or stories of marriages working out in the end. And be sensitive of Brett's needs, too. Yes, I'm angry and disappointed and completely crushed. But I still care about him, and he is the father of my children. I won't badmouth him, and I don't want others to, either. He's in a rough place right now and needs love and support as much as I do.

Monday, April 20, 2015

FAQ; Or, What those "scary" Ex-Mormons want you to know

Whew. Posting that last post was awfully scary. Thanks to all those (especially family and close friends) who responded with love and understanding. Honestly, that was the hardest part about "going public". I was terrified to lose more friends and family, and I'm incredibly grateful that didn't happen.

Since my announcement of my departure from the LDS church, I've had some genuine questions, mostly from my family but also from a few friends. I figured this was a good opportunity to address those questions here, before addressing some broader issues. This post will be a little lengthy, but please read to the end. It's worth it.

1. Are you having your name removed from the records?

Short answer, yes with a but; I have not at this time sent in my letter of resignation from the church but will be doing so at some point in the fairly near future. I've talked with my bishop via email and he is aware of my feelings and my situation, and quite honestly, I have enough going on right now that the actual letter is not anywhere near the top of my priority list.

2. Is Brett also leaving or is he still a member?

As of right now, Brett is still a member and does not share my perspective.

3. What church are you attending now?

I am not currently attending a church, nor do I plan to at the moment. I still have a lot of personal faith issues to work out before I even venture toward organized religion/a particular denomination again.

4. So...what do you believe?

Short answer: I'm not sure. I'm working through that at the moment.

5. Does this mean you're anti-Mormon?

No! I do not personally believe much of the doctrine. It simply doesn't work for me. There are aspects of it that greatly bother me. But that doesn't mean others can't find peace and happiness in it. I think this is the hardest thing for people inside the church to understand. Just because I don't believe and don't want to be affiliated with the church, doesn't mean I'm going to start attacking their beliefs and tearing them down. Your path is yours, and my path is mine. And I am okay with that. I will, on occasion, voice my opinion when something occurs in the church. I try to maintain a respectful attitude when I do so, but I am done being silent.

Recently in a Facebook support group (for those doubting/transitioning out of/trying to stay in/completely out of the LDS church), I asked the other people in the group the following question:

What do you wish people knew when you left the church?

"We aren't deceived, and we don't forget everything we knew about the church. Many of us had a testimony and understand the doctrine. And many of us respect Mormons and love them, but we have issues with the church as an organization." ~Desiree Casperson

"I do have morals, I have values, I care about my family, my fellow humans. I still bake and occasionally make some crafty thing. I'm still nice. I don't lack anything--I'm not a "non," not a subset of what you are. My beliefs and yours are no longer identical, but I have beliefs and I hold them as dear to me as you hold yours. Oh. . .and I'm not going to hell, outer darkness, the terrestrial kingdom or any such place once I shed this mortal coil. So, not to worry." ~Teri Lyn

"I'm not hurting my kids by leaving. I'm leaving to protect them."

"I'm no different. I'm still the same person." ~Rachel Flynn

"I want them to understand how difficult the process was and how painful it was. There were times I wished that I wouldn't have found out what I did. I tried so hard to just continue on, but it was killing me to do so. I didn't make my decision lightly and much thought, prayer/meditation went into my decision. I feel like I am the same person and I have become even more loving and compassionate."

"It doesn't mean that I judge people who haven't left as being idiots or as being deceived--all I really hope is that they won't judge me as being that way. Can't we just all get along?!" ~Kirsti Miller

"Leaving ISN'T the easier choice. But due to matters of integrity, leaving was the RIGHT choice. I was Mormon because I believed it was the truth. When I discovered it wasn't, I couldn't stay." ~TC

"My kids are still safe for your kids to play with. Just because we chose not to attend church doesn't mean we are bad people or that my kids are going to teach your kids bad things. In fact, just because we quit going to church doesn't mean I quit teaching values."

"I still love Mormons and truly believe they are some of the kindest people I know. I can respect that we agree to disagree. Oh, and I'm not out spouting anti- Mormon stuff to everyone I meet." ~Sarah Elzinga

"My leaving was not a choice I came to lightly. I was aware of what the church teaches are the eternal consequences of my actions, even though I disagree with such teachings. Furthermore, if the church is working for you, I wish you all the best. Please understand that I continue to occasionally have anger towards the church because it has caused me harm and it continues to harm many that I care about. My vocality has little to do with your position or belief in the church, but I do understand how it may feel otherwise. I object to abuse suffered there, just as I object to abuse suffered in many other establishments and dynamics.

Also: I am not broken. I do not need to be saved. I realize this may be hard to accept from point of beliefs in Mormonism and Christianity. This also doesn't mean I think myself perfect, but rather I see my mistakes as part of the learning process of what it means to be human." ~Lindsay Butler

"That I'm not fake happy. There are different ways for different people to be happy. I didn't stop going to church because it was easy or because I'm lazy. I didn't stop attending church because I got offended. I am still the same person I was before." ~Melissa Blair

Friday, February 20, 2015

Not all those who wander are lost

My deep love of and admiration for JRR Tolkien is no secret. I've been fairly obsessed with him for years now (and could tell plenty of stories all about my extreme nerdiness!). One of my favorite things about his writings is that he includes so much poetry/music (which sadly was not translated into the movies, for the most part). My personal favorite is the poem about Aragorn in Gandalf's letter to Frodo, which he receives at Bree at the beginning of his journey. The most well-known line of this is, "Not all those who wander are lost." It's been on my mind a lot lately as I've been navigating a long and very scary personal journey.

Most definitions of 'wander' include references to aimlessness. Lack of purpose. Idleness. Carelessness. These definitions don't fit with my "wandering" (although they may describe this blog post).

Over the past couple of years, I've been more vocal about my uneasiness with certain things in the Mormon church. First was my vocal support of marriage equality, and then my participation in the Ordain Women movement. Many family and friends saw these actions as some horrible choices that were going to lead me away from the church. I lost friends. Many friends. It brought a lot of pain with it, but it was still the right choice for me.

In truth, Ordain Women has not led me away from the church. Ordain Women is the reason I was able to stay for as long as I did. It allowed me to hold out hope that maybe, just maybe, the institution I'd been raised in and had played such a large part in my life could change for the better. It helped me see that you could be faithful without agreeing with every single thing the church and its leader do or say. That there is a spectrum of belief, and that that's okay.

But it's not.

Or it is, but it's not okay to talk about it. Or it's okay to talk about it, but not in public. Or it's okay to talk about it in public, but not if other people might agree with you. Or if you do it in the wrong tone. Despite President Uchtdorf's assurances that "There is room for you," there just isn't.

I have made the decision to leave the LDS church.

I cannot remain a member of the church and be authentic about who I am and what I believe (or don't). I have worn a mask for too long already, and it is exhausting. My reasons for leaving are deeply personal and I don't really care to go into all of them in a blog post. Suffice it to say that in addition to have some major problems with the inequality in the church, there is a lot of doctrine that I either don't believe or don't agree with. If you would like to have a personal, mature discussion about it, I am willing to discuss it with you. But I will not allow myself to be attacked.

It's common for members of the church to assume people leave for one of several reasons. 1) I must have committed some horrible sin. 2) I WANT to sin and don't want to be disciplined for it. 3) I don't know the doctrine well enough. 4) I haven't tried hard enough to gain and strengthen a testimony. 5) I was offended by someone. 6) I read anti-Mormon literature.

All those "reasons" are untrue. I have not "sinned". I have studied the scriptures and the gospel for over two decades. I have read the scriptures faithfully. I have fasted and prayed. Having not received the witness I was promised, I continued operating based on Alma 32:27: "But behold, if ye will awake and arouse your faculties, even to an experiment upon my words, and exercise a particle of faith, yea, even if ye can no more than desire to believe, let this desire work in you, even until ye believe in a manner that ye can give place for a portion of my words."

So I did. I wanted to believe. I wanted it so badly. I wanted a witness. I wanted a testimony. I believed Boyd K. Packer's words that, "A testimony is to be found in the bearing of it!" I have functioned for over 2 decades based on these things. If I just keep trying. If I just keep bearing my testimony. If I just keep attending the temple. Maybe if I fast more often. Maybe if I pay more tithing. Maybe I'm not devoted enough in my calling. But nothing helped. Nothing I tried led me to that "witness".

Many would point to things I've read and cry anti-Mormon literature. Nearly everything I've read, every disturbing discovery I've made regarding the church's history and that of Joseph Smith, has been admitted by the church and can be found in the new essays in the Gospel Topics portion of the church's website. So unless the church is now posting anti-Mormon literature on their own website, that argument is fallacious.

Here's the IMPORTANT part:

I'm still me.

Who I am has not changed. I'm still a wife, a mother, a sister, a daughter, a burn survivor, a student, a reader, a writer. I still love meeting people, throwing parties, baking cakes, hanging out with friends, watching hockey, and jamming in the car (yes, even to Let it Go). I'm still a nerd. I still snort a little when I laugh really hard. I still cry. I still dream.

While I have left the church, this doesn't mean I'm now an anti-Mormon. The church doesn't work for me. But I also recognize that many people, including many closest to me, find meaning, comfort, and peace within the institution. While I disagree with many things the church does, I strive (with varying degrees of success) to voice my opinions without bashing the church or those who believe in it. That will not change. I won't attack people for their beliefs, just as I expect (and demand) not to be attacked for mine.

Not all those who wander are lost. I'm not lost. While I have "wandered" away from the church, I am not lost. My departure is no one's fault. I'm not seeking to take anyone with me. I'm not suddenly some wicked, sinful person who should be kept away from anyone faithful for fear I'm going to..I don't know, eat babies or something. "Infect" people. Lead others "astray". Be a "bad influence". I'm not suddenly amoral.

I'm still me.

I'm finally me.