I've been a fairly regular listener of Mormon Stories Podcast for the past year, and have admired the way John Dehlin prompts his subjects to reflect on and talk about their experiences with Mormonism in a fair and well-rounded way. As my story is pretty unremarkable, I really doubt I will be asked to go on Mormon Stories. So I took some of John's prompts and answered them here as a kind of thought experiment, and a way for me to take the pulse of where I am at.
If you choose to read on, please note that this blog is meant to be a safe space for believers or non-believers or believers of other persuasions alike. The intention is not, and will never be, to try to persuade others to agree with me or to come over to Dark Side (although we do have cookies. Just saying.)
Ahem...
Here is a non-comprehensive list of things Mormonism provided me:
Probably, it was the doctrine of eternal progression, and the eternal nature of the soul/identity. I loved the idea of forever learning and growing, that we did not begin to exist at birth and would not cease to exist after death. I loved the stories of Jesus as told in the New Testament. He personifies a lot of values I will carry with me forever: spending time with those on the fringe (publicans, sinners, etc.); reserving judgment (the woman taken in adultery); taking time for the one (the woman with the issue of blood); calling out hypocrisy and speaking truth to power (pharisees); compassion (Jesus wept); passion (casting out the money changers). These are some things that still resonate deeply with me. Jesus is obviously not unique to Mormonism, but that was the lens through which I learned about him.
Some of my strongest spiritual experiences happened as a teenager at girls camp, singing around a fire under the open stars. I felt connected to God and to my sisters in the church most strongly then. It was a strong sense of belonging. I will never deny the power of those experiences, but I do interpret them differently now. I have always felt most spiritually connected while in nature, or while listening to certain music, so it makes sense that a situation combining the two would make a strong impression. I no longer consider those experiences as evidence of a god, or of some higher purpose I was to fulfill, or as evidence that the Church is True, but simply as times where I was feeling a powerful interconnectedness with the world and universe around me and my fellow humans.
I have had one or two spiritual experiences--or promptings, if you will--that have come in direct contradiction to my own desires/awareness, and that I don't believe constitute a form of "confirmation bias." I hold space for the possibility of being affected by a higher consciousness, but I no longer claim to know what that is, or actively seek it. I keep those spiritual experiences in my back pocket, but I don't sweat over them too much.
I studied Church history.
NEXT.
No, but really. I stopped putting it off and dug in. And that finely honed sense of Right and Wrong that I had spent my whole life developing kicked in BIG TIME. There were dealbreakers in there for me. This is not the case for everyone--and that's fine. There's no right and wrong way to process. You're not obliged to leave or obliged to stay. I know people who have studied everything and stay. I know people who have studied nothing and leave. What was right for me was to leave. Do I regret what I learned? How best can I say this...
No. I do not regret making an informed decision.
It was difficult to be a member of the LDS faith and to not internalize a kind of superiority complex. There were so many instances where I looked at those not of my faith or who'd left, even people I loved and admired, and thought, "They are such good people. Too bad they're wrong." Or, "too bad they just don't have the whole truth." Or, "They're happy but they're not truly happy." This mindset really inhibited me from giving people the love and validation and respect they deserved, and implied that their life decisions were somehow inferior. I considered myself to be very open-minded, even as a practicing member of the church, but there was always that attitude nagging at the back of my mind, that constant mandate to share my truth with the aim to convince, and not reserving space to receive in turn.
The church's definition of "worthiness," especially as it pertains to sexuality, I think is truly and legitimately toxic. Full stop.
It was a surreal experience, in many ways. I thought I was never going to leave; it was True, with a capital T. But the ironic thing is that everything in my upbringing--my wonderful family, my liberal arts education at BYU, the focus on honesty and integrity instilled in me by the church and parents--actually prepared me to make the difficult decision to do what I felt I needed to do.
I rode the high of that certainty for many days before the reality of leaving really began to settle in. I realized that it would affect my relationships with family, with friends, it would potentially obliterate my connection to my church community. It would cause pain to me, to others. I sat in fear of inflicting this pain until I couldn't stand it anymore.
Then spiritual limbo set in. I wanted to be spiritual, but I didn't know how anymore. Easter of last year was a perfect microcosm of this space. Though we were still attending church most of the time, we didn't go that day for some reason. Because it was Easter, I felt desperate to connect to the day in the way that used to feel meaningful to me, but I couldn't in any of the old familiar ways, and I hadn't found new ways yet. It hurt. I think at one point, Travis went out to get donuts, and I took that opportunity to quietly and privately burst into tears. This grief would hit me time and time again, as grief does, in waves. Only time can heal.
Most painful: This sense of loss. I've talked at length about this in another post, but to sum up, simply look at the bullet points in the first item in this blog. I lost all of that in varying degrees, at least temporarily.
Most healing: You cannot fill a vessel that is already full. I have spent the last year or more emptying myself of every belief or assumption I took for granted, and I am trying to be very intentional about what I put back in and what I throw away forever. I have a LOT more room for growth now, and I feel invigorated and excited about the possibilities. Also healing: letting go of the massive cognitive dissonance regarding church doctrines that did not make any sense to me.
I probably brought my family (siblings, parents) into my transition too early. I don't know. Maybe in the long run it was better to be upfront about it earlier rather than later, but it resulted in some confusion for me and probably unnecessary stress for them. I don't know. Maybe it was fine. There are pluses and minuses to any approach. In the end, I guess I don't regret being open.
I'm not sure whether this qualifies as a "mistake," or just human nature, but I went through a period when I just really wanted other people to agree with me. I didn't go out trying to convince or anything, but I felt misunderstood, and I just really wanted people to "wake up," and know what I knew!! I don't feel that anymore. Like, at all. With the passage of time, I've become much more sanguine and secure with who I am, where I'm at, and what I want.
My relationship with my husband has improved in almost every respect. We are so much more open and honest with each other. We feel much more secure in each other's independence, and yet! We are more unified than ever. Our love and commitment to each other has deepened profoundly.
My relationships with my parents and siblings has remained about the same, and certainly has not gotten worse.
My relationships with my friends has remained about the same, and in some instances has deepened.
The relationships with some who have decided to judge or speculate without seeking to understand (in spite of repeated invitations to do so) have deteriorated.
A number of behaviors that were once predicated on belief in the Church have reasonably changed. I am enjoying exploring certain experiences that used to be verboten, and finding what I like, what I don't, what works for me, and what doesn't. The key here is that the only person I am consulting with regard to these behaviors is me. I no longer outsource those decisions to some outer authority.
In all the essentials, I am the same. That cup of coffee in the morning did not give me a personality transplant. That tattoo I've been dreaming about for five years, and finally got, should not make me unapproachable. If you happen to see my shoulders, just say hello to them. If you knew me back when, you know me now. Don't overthink it.
It has taken time, but it is better.
So there it is. These answers reflect my experiences only. If you feel like you have achieved peace in whatever your chosen walk of life is, I celebrate with you--yes, even Mormonism! Be happy. Be well.
Be you.
If you choose to read on, please note that this blog is meant to be a safe space for believers or non-believers or believers of other persuasions alike. The intention is not, and will never be, to try to persuade others to agree with me or to come over to Dark Side (although we do have cookies. Just saying.)
Ahem...
1. What about being Mormon did you find most useful?
Here is a non-comprehensive list of things Mormonism provided me:
- Identity - I was a child of loving Heavenly Father whom I loved, and he loved me. I was a nth generation Mormon of pioneer stock. Strong sense of heritage and identity.
- Morality - I knew what was right and wrong. I stayed away from drugs and other harmful substances, and lived a pretty "clean" life.
- Life meaning - I knew there was a plan I was to follow, like a road map. I knew where I came from and where I was going.
- Community - a group of like-minded individuals to welcome me with open-arms no matter where I went
- Friendship - lots of opportunities for social interaction, wherein I met many lifelong friends with similar values.
- Spirituality - a framework from which to connect to something bigger than me, in this case Heavenly Father or God, Jesus Christ, and the Plan of Salvation.
- Family Structure - family was the central structure, and was given preeminence
- Opportunities to serve - constant focus on looking outside oneself to lift others
2. What doctrinal, theological parts of Mormonism were most important to you?
Probably, it was the doctrine of eternal progression, and the eternal nature of the soul/identity. I loved the idea of forever learning and growing, that we did not begin to exist at birth and would not cease to exist after death. I loved the stories of Jesus as told in the New Testament. He personifies a lot of values I will carry with me forever: spending time with those on the fringe (publicans, sinners, etc.); reserving judgment (the woman taken in adultery); taking time for the one (the woman with the issue of blood); calling out hypocrisy and speaking truth to power (pharisees); compassion (Jesus wept); passion (casting out the money changers). These are some things that still resonate deeply with me. Jesus is obviously not unique to Mormonism, but that was the lens through which I learned about him.
3. What spiritual experiences did you have that sealed your orthodox commitment? How do you make sense of them now?
Some of my strongest spiritual experiences happened as a teenager at girls camp, singing around a fire under the open stars. I felt connected to God and to my sisters in the church most strongly then. It was a strong sense of belonging. I will never deny the power of those experiences, but I do interpret them differently now. I have always felt most spiritually connected while in nature, or while listening to certain music, so it makes sense that a situation combining the two would make a strong impression. I no longer consider those experiences as evidence of a god, or of some higher purpose I was to fulfill, or as evidence that the Church is True, but simply as times where I was feeling a powerful interconnectedness with the world and universe around me and my fellow humans.
I have had one or two spiritual experiences--or promptings, if you will--that have come in direct contradiction to my own desires/awareness, and that I don't believe constitute a form of "confirmation bias." I hold space for the possibility of being affected by a higher consciousness, but I no longer claim to know what that is, or actively seek it. I keep those spiritual experiences in my back pocket, but I don't sweat over them too much.
4. How did you lose your faith?
I studied Church history.
NEXT.
No, but really. I stopped putting it off and dug in. And that finely honed sense of Right and Wrong that I had spent my whole life developing kicked in BIG TIME. There were dealbreakers in there for me. This is not the case for everyone--and that's fine. There's no right and wrong way to process. You're not obliged to leave or obliged to stay. I know people who have studied everything and stay. I know people who have studied nothing and leave. What was right for me was to leave. Do I regret what I learned? How best can I say this...
No. I do not regret making an informed decision.
5. What parts of Mormonism were harmful to you?
It was difficult to be a member of the LDS faith and to not internalize a kind of superiority complex. There were so many instances where I looked at those not of my faith or who'd left, even people I loved and admired, and thought, "They are such good people. Too bad they're wrong." Or, "too bad they just don't have the whole truth." Or, "They're happy but they're not truly happy." This mindset really inhibited me from giving people the love and validation and respect they deserved, and implied that their life decisions were somehow inferior. I considered myself to be very open-minded, even as a practicing member of the church, but there was always that attitude nagging at the back of my mind, that constant mandate to share my truth with the aim to convince, and not reserving space to receive in turn.
The church's definition of "worthiness," especially as it pertains to sexuality, I think is truly and legitimately toxic. Full stop.
6. What was transitioning out of Mormonism like for you? Most painful? Most healing?
It was a surreal experience, in many ways. I thought I was never going to leave; it was True, with a capital T. But the ironic thing is that everything in my upbringing--my wonderful family, my liberal arts education at BYU, the focus on honesty and integrity instilled in me by the church and parents--actually prepared me to make the difficult decision to do what I felt I needed to do.
I rode the high of that certainty for many days before the reality of leaving really began to settle in. I realized that it would affect my relationships with family, with friends, it would potentially obliterate my connection to my church community. It would cause pain to me, to others. I sat in fear of inflicting this pain until I couldn't stand it anymore.
Then spiritual limbo set in. I wanted to be spiritual, but I didn't know how anymore. Easter of last year was a perfect microcosm of this space. Though we were still attending church most of the time, we didn't go that day for some reason. Because it was Easter, I felt desperate to connect to the day in the way that used to feel meaningful to me, but I couldn't in any of the old familiar ways, and I hadn't found new ways yet. It hurt. I think at one point, Travis went out to get donuts, and I took that opportunity to quietly and privately burst into tears. This grief would hit me time and time again, as grief does, in waves. Only time can heal.
Most painful: This sense of loss. I've talked at length about this in another post, but to sum up, simply look at the bullet points in the first item in this blog. I lost all of that in varying degrees, at least temporarily.
Most healing: You cannot fill a vessel that is already full. I have spent the last year or more emptying myself of every belief or assumption I took for granted, and I am trying to be very intentional about what I put back in and what I throw away forever. I have a LOT more room for growth now, and I feel invigorated and excited about the possibilities. Also healing: letting go of the massive cognitive dissonance regarding church doctrines that did not make any sense to me.
7. What mistakes did you make transitioning?
I probably brought my family (siblings, parents) into my transition too early. I don't know. Maybe in the long run it was better to be upfront about it earlier rather than later, but it resulted in some confusion for me and probably unnecessary stress for them. I don't know. Maybe it was fine. There are pluses and minuses to any approach. In the end, I guess I don't regret being open.
I'm not sure whether this qualifies as a "mistake," or just human nature, but I went through a period when I just really wanted other people to agree with me. I didn't go out trying to convince or anything, but I felt misunderstood, and I just really wanted people to "wake up," and know what I knew!! I don't feel that anymore. Like, at all. With the passage of time, I've become much more sanguine and secure with who I am, where I'm at, and what I want.
8. How has it affected your relationships?
My relationship with my husband has improved in almost every respect. We are so much more open and honest with each other. We feel much more secure in each other's independence, and yet! We are more unified than ever. Our love and commitment to each other has deepened profoundly.
My relationships with my parents and siblings has remained about the same, and certainly has not gotten worse.
My relationships with my friends has remained about the same, and in some instances has deepened.
The relationships with some who have decided to judge or speculate without seeking to understand (in spite of repeated invitations to do so) have deteriorated.
9. How have behaviors changed? In what ways are you different? In what ways the same?
A number of behaviors that were once predicated on belief in the Church have reasonably changed. I am enjoying exploring certain experiences that used to be verboten, and finding what I like, what I don't, what works for me, and what doesn't. The key here is that the only person I am consulting with regard to these behaviors is me. I no longer outsource those decisions to some outer authority.
In all the essentials, I am the same. That cup of coffee in the morning did not give me a personality transplant. That tattoo I've been dreaming about for five years, and finally got, should not make me unapproachable. If you happen to see my shoulders, just say hello to them. If you knew me back when, you know me now. Don't overthink it.
10. How is life better now?
It has taken time, but it is better.
- I have given myself permission to fully embrace an epistemology that feels safer and more intellectually honest.
- I no longer feel bound to belief in things despite evidence, but because of evidence.
- I feel empowered to let go of habitual fear-based decision-making.
- I trust myself a great deal more, and now understand that the voice in my head is me. That voice has become more peaceful and steady. Still and small, if you will.
- I no longer reserve space for intrusive thoughts, or notions that hold no relevance to the here and now.
- I feel a LOT more connected to the Present. I am no longer enduring to the end, but thriving in the Now.
- I am no longer afraid of, or above, or apart from The World. I am a member of this world and a participant, and I am find much meaning and joy in exploring what that means.
- I feel more free and able to accept and respect the multiplicity of human experiences. There is beauty in variety. There is truth everywhere.
- In a nutshell, I feel alive and aware now in a way that I didn't know that I didn't feel before, and this makes me happy.
So there it is. These answers reflect my experiences only. If you feel like you have achieved peace in whatever your chosen walk of life is, I celebrate with you--yes, even Mormonism! Be happy. Be well.
Be you.
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