Coming Out Problems. Take One

Naturally, there have been several issues that have come up with Husband NotSo's family. We have only come out of the closet to his immediate family in the last few months. Of course we realize they are confused and hurt, and at a loss with what is going on. I have put myself in their shoes, for not too many years ago, if a sibling of mine had come out of the Mormon closet, I would feel a great sense of loss. My heart would be broken because I knew I would not get to see them in the eternities. So of course there is sorrow, pain, and confusion.


I guess I expected them to accept our new world view and move on without any further discussion. Somewhat naive of me, as to how this has not been the case. Things they are saying about us have trickled back to us, sometimes inadvertently, and what has trickled has been extremely hurtful. It is all I can do to not act like a bear out of hibernation, coming from its cave, to let a trespasser have it.


I just don't see them putting on our shoes and I doubt they will because of the zealous way people feel when it comes to their religion, especially the Mormon religion. When it comes to being a True Believing Mormon, or TBM, nothing can sway you from your beliefs. Those beliefs and faith in those beliefs are solid and become an absolute reality, so any other view is wrong and lacks truth. From day one, members are taught that Mormonism is the only true church on the earth and that it is, literally, the same church Christ lead when he was on the earth two-thousand years ago. Therefore, the other religions out there may be good, but they are wrong and do not have the full truth. Therefore, their members lack everything you need in order to live with God again.


Now we are out of the closet, we are lumped with the rest of the world, or Babylon, but in our case it is worse because we know better. We once "knew it was true" and now that we don't believe all of it anymore, our souls are doomed. I honestly do not feel my soul is doomed, nor do I feel those who are good people who are not Mormon are doomed. I believe there will be plenty of other non-Mormons living with God once again.


This is where my hurt feelings come into play. I am still the same person. I have not changed. I am a good person. A good mommy. A good neighbor. A good friend. I still look for opportunities to serve others and help others when I am out in public. I am still friendly and I will still tear you apart if you mess with me or any of my family. The only thing that has changed is what aspects I do and do not believe about Mormonism. Because I do not believe those things anymore does not automatically make me "one of them" or a bad person. I am not bad mouthing The Church, nor am I revealing the things I have found out to those around me nor will I.


So as for coming out, expect there to be problems within your family. Expect tears and awkwardness. Expect passive-aggressive ways of them getting you to "really think" about what you are doing.  Expect anger and hurt on both side. And don't be naive that they will just accept it because that is, truly, not reality.

The Purpose

There are several reasons I have created this blog. Even if nobody ever reads it, the first purpose of it is to clear my head. I am trying to figure out what kind of relationship I want to have with The Church and what kind of relationship I want my children to have with the church. I love the social aspect of my particular ward. A ton of new families have moved in and I feel a draw to go to church because these people have become my friends. What's more, it is so nice to have my daughter have other children she can play with.


This last week we had what I call "Entrapment", formerly known in The Church as Enrichment, and I really had a fun time. There was a ton of laughing and talking and eating. And I thought that the only reason I would ever come back to church would be to enjoy the sisterhood my ward holds. I do feel a bond with the sisters and I do feel like they ARE my ward family. If it were possible, I would love to do all the social stuff, and not attend church, but I am afraid doing that, would scare some sisters off and they wouldn't want to socialize with me just because it could be awkward for them.


Now, for me, I don't feel awkward about any of this. I am happy to call myself inactive and I have called myself so in front of some of my sister friends. "So that's gonna be how you get me to come back to church!" I laughingly exclaimed as one sister gave me something another sister left behind at my MIL's house. "Now I have to go to church to get it to her!" The two sisters I was talking to, know me well and laughed along. I detected no awkwardness.


Another reason I have created this blog is to use it as a tool when, one day, I decide to come out-of-the Mormon closet to my family. Fortunately, my family lives way across the country from me, so they are not privy to my inactivity and my sketchiness of The Church. Families can be crushed and relationships ruined when a child/sibling leaves the church. Although I know I can not control their reactions, I hope to soften it by blogging about my feelings and the inner turmoil I am going through. I would like them to understand this isn't a rash decision, but something that has been well-thought out. I want them to see that I am still the same person. The same old me. I just don't believe what they believe anymore and what those "things" are will be blogged about soon.


I worry most about my father's and older sister's reaction. My sister and I got into a brief discussion this past fall about the whole Prop 8/gay thing and it quickly turned into a debate. I didn't want to go in depth regarding my feelings about it, so I put up my white flag and surrendered. I wasn't on my home turf, nor did I have a coalition of the willing on my side, so at that point it was an easy decision to not let it get out of control.


So anyway. There you go. More to come later. More to think of now.

In The Beginning...

I am a lifer. Ancestors on both sides of my family crossed the plains to seek refuge from anti-Mormon persecution. My great-great something-or-other was even a member of Pitts Brass Band who crossed with Brigham Young. I have always found it somewhat ironic my ancestors went through the hardships pushing handcarts and driving their wagons, mile after mile, to find refuge in the Salt Lake Valley, only to have me, their descendent, live from whence they came.

I grew up in Sandy, Utah at the foot of my Wasatch Mountains, in the heart of all Mormondom. I ate it. I drank it and breathed it. I have to many a football game in the formerly named, "Cougar Stadium" in my younger years. Whenever the BYU Cougars lost to the evil, dreaded Utah Utes, my heart would always sink. For how could God let the True Church be defeated by those heathens? And their school colors were RED! Is that not the color of the devil?

Of the five of my siblings, three have served LDS missions, all five have been endowed in the Riverton Temple, and four have been sealed in the temple. We always went to church growing up; and during different chapters in our family book, we practiced our religion at various levels. When Dad was in the Stake Presidency, we would read the BOM after dinner. When Older Brother was on his mission, we would have family prayer. Those religious practices were not very consistent growing up. Only FHE had some consistency, as it was usually held Sunday afternoon, after naps, after church.

Of the siblings, I would say I was the most devout. Everything was very black and white and everything in the world made perfect sense. Many a Fast and Testimony Meeting I proclaimed, "How couldn't it be true?" I very much enjoyed tattling my sibling's sins and because of this, I was always the odd-man-out and felt picked on, for how could one handle such a Pharisee as a sibling? No matter. I channeled that hurt into getting good grades in school and accomplishing other academic achievements.

I would say I did have many friends in school, but not many close friends. Believe-it-or-not, with Mormons being known to have a bazillion children, there was not a single girl my age, in my grade, growing up in my ward. I was kind of a loner, a loner at home and a loner in the neighborhood. Because of this, I believe I formed a stronger bond with my mother than most other young girls my age had. I mean, don't most teenage girls hate their mothers? Many a time, Mom and I would pack up our fishing poles and head up to Silver Lake at Brighton to go fishing together. Mom was and still continues to be one of my best friends, although, with little less dependence on my part these days.

Growing up in the church, I have always felt slighted for being female. I have always had a little feminist inside me, waiting to burn my bra, and there have always been things I did not like about being Mormon, and later, The Church. I loathed the fact the Young Men would go off on their rafting and backpacking adventures, and the Young Woman were left at home learning how to make another craft. During my college years, I learned other things about the church I did not particularly like. Troubling issues, such as polygamy, I tended to put on the back burner because it was easier not to deal with it. It was not until about three years ago other issues came to a head. Those being: Prop 8, the truthfulness of the BOM, JS, the ERA, things about the temple ceremony, and inequality.

This spring, I will have been married for twelve years. During those twelve years, our activity in the church has varied. When we lived on our own, we did not attend church and I chalked that up mostly to us being lazy, not really knowing Hubs had other reasons. We lived with my PILs for a few years while Hubs was in grad school; we became active, holding various callings. It was kind of an unspoken requirement for us to attend church as a condition of living in the basement, but it was also easier to go because of the social aspects of it. For the first time in my life, I had friends, dear friends who accepted me and loved me for how quirky I was.

Once we moved out and out of the ward boundaries, inactivity followed, until the PILS followed us to the small town in which we now reside and then activity commenced. In the last year, we have not felt much of a pull in going to church, nor have cared if we were expected to go by the PILS. There are many reasons behind our inactivity, many of which will be blogged about here, but for now, this is just an introduction, merely to give you the jest and insight into how I came to the current feelings I have towards The Church.

The purpose of this blog will come later too, but for now, this is a little glimpse into my life for you. Enjoy.