on discrediting lived experiences

My mom had a working mother. Her mom was a nurse, and our family takes great pride in her legacy of decades of service in that field. Still, when I was growing up, my mom reinforced vigorously to me that staying home was what God wanted for every family. I was told repeatedly how lucky we were that God blessed us so she could be home with us. I was an ambitious student, yet by the time I was 12, I could say with tears in my eyes that I would be a stay-at-home mom and sacrifice my dreams for my children.

I assume most Mormons have masturbated, but stake presidents, bishops, and young mens leaders continue the practice of shaming their children for masturbating.

We all know people and families where temple marriage and having children in the covenant did not lead to happiness - and civil unions or unions solemnized by other religions that turn out beautifully- yet we continue to teach that the temple is essential to salvation and eternal families.

We are uncomfortable with polygamy, but we repeat the script that it was for a great purpose and we shouldn't let it bother us.

We can look back at our own foibles and "sins" and see how overcoming those experiences changed us, oftentimes for the better. (Examples: We hurt someone and realized we needed to become more kind and careful with our words. We went into debt, had to rely on other people, and realized we needed to be more frugal or better at keeping a budget, as well as increased our gratitude to others and humility.) Yet we continue to teach that it is better to not sin, to avoid any chance of making mistakes, and to worship a God who never sinned. We continue to make the experience of "messing up" doubly shameful!

For heaven's sake, messing up is one of our greatest tools for learning and growth in this life!

When will we rise up and believe ourselves and our own experiences?

I look back at my experiences and see how the church literally handicapped me by making me untrustworthy to myself.

Polygamy is my first and most powerful example.

What in the world are we doing when our young daughters come to us, usually in their teenage years, and timidly ask us about this practice they've likely only just learned of and we respond that It was okay. 

What in the world are we doing?!! Can't we see that this is akin to our sweet daughters coming to us, saying, "There is someone who our family knows, someone close to us, someone we trust and love, who did something that makes me very uncomfortable. And that uncomfortable thing has to do with sex." When in the world would we EVER tell them, "You're right. They did do those things. And you shouldn't be uncomfortable. Your feelings are wrong."

Yet we do this ALL THE TIME!!! We do it over and over.  Every few years, I would confide in my parents AGAIN, or my bishop, with the same dilemma.  Same answer. It's okay. You don't need to worry about it.

Imagine how ashamed I felt when I couldn't shake my worry about it!

How much bravery does it take for a girl to confide in her parents or an ecclesiastical leader that someone they know and love or even revere has done something that is questionable or unethical?

How terrible that at this tender, searching age, as they are newly awakening to human sexuality- most importantly their own - we invalidate their ability to determine what is sexually appropriate or sexually deviant, sexually healthy or sexually abusive?

We cripple them. Instead of making them masters of their own sexuality and confident in their innate conscience, we bend their knees, place a yoke of shame on their shoulders, and direct their eyes to prophets, men who are the heirs of Joseph's mantle.

But really (there's a reason agnostics don't have five kids)

And here are some more reasons.

Because agnostics, at least around here, don't have a huge community that takes care of you like the church. It is just true. It does take a village, it does, it does, it does. Oh how I miss weekly and monthly get-togethers where the kids had friends, I had friends, and we all did something fun with this huge tribe of people.

Because you can no longer answer every question with, "Because that's what God has commanded/wants us to do"/some version of this. As an agnostic, you are likely a very moral person who cares deeply about doing the right thing. You probably believe your children deserve respect and that they are unique beings with a right to learn and a right to choose their destiny.  So you have to think - hard - when you give answers to questions. You want to be careful about not saying too much--actually, you probably want to respond to your child's questions with some very good questions for them to think about and answer. Or simply, "What do you think?" And then listen.  Listen a LOT. Listening is hard and oftentimes it takes so much patience and control. It is way easier to just answer and always be the expert.

Another thing, I still believe that responsibility, hard work, kindness and compassion can be developed - in children and adults. But as someone who was well-trained in Christianity and Christianity's reasons for these traits, it takes a lot of reflection to discover what these ideals really mean and how they are really mastered without fear of punishment or hope of reward. I'll probably be working on just this my whole life.

Because you no longer feel good about controlling their behavior "for their good" or "because God would want me to". Instead, you try to find meaning in how they behave, and try to discover what few behaviors are actually bad (ie dangerous ones) and how many are actually just information that something isn't right (they are hungry, they are tired, they are children and are still learning how to be polite/kind/socially adept/patient), etc. You realize how rarely people, and especially children, are actually "being bad". And you could be patient if you had to put up with some less than ideal behavior from two or three kids, but five kids? You probably need to be superhuman.

Because you no longer feel like you absolutely positively must do everything perfect and if you do, they will turn out perfectly, serve missions, marry in the temple, and go to heaven. And losing that "guarantee" of sorts is a loss. It was really motivating as a parent to think I had so much control over who my kids became.  They were going to be my reward, in a sense, a reflection of how great of a mom I was. Sure, I still feel like I can hopefully be a positive influence, a trustworthy guide. But there are no guarantees and I realize parenting them this way that I am releasing them from an obligation to turn out like me or like my vision for them. And this leads to all sorts of other things ... like realizing I better make something of myself because they get to be who they are for them (not for me). And to become something myself I need some time to develop me ... which is a challenge with five kids. (Not impossible, I hope?)

Because, patience. To raise kids without rewards and punishments, heaven and hell, prophets, Gods and devils, it takes patience.  To be willing to try again, every day, when no one is going to tell you you are a good parent (in fact, they may be telling you the opposite directly or indirectly). To be willing to admit that you make just as many mistakes on the path as your kids. To be willing to listen to them, to wait for them to figure things out themselves - even through making mistakes they could have avoided with your intervention - to foster the confidence that can only come through choosing for themselves. To push yourself to lay off all the advice-giving and start saying more and more often, at teenage-hood if not before, "You got this. I believe in you. You will figure it out. Tell me what your plan is, and how I can help".

there's a reason agnostics don't have five kids.

And the reason is this: Because it's dang hard.

Family Night 2.0 - Learning to Make a Joke

In 2014, just months before I decided to leave the church, we spent a wonderful week on an Alaskan Cruise with my adult siblings, their spouses, and my parents. A highlight of the trip was going to shows put on by a comedian - David Naster.  He had some pretty great sets, but being the serious type that I am, I really perked up when he got a little serious - about being silly.

He talked about how effective jokes can be at diffusing tough situations like heartache or just plain meanness. He gave some examples, like a teacher joking back at a student who was trying to put her down, or overweight kids who responded to teasing with a clever comeback instead of retreating to a corner to cry.

I appreciated his perspective because ... I'm usually the one who retreats to a corner to cry.  And with my kids, I really try hard to be empathetic when it comes to hard experiences because I think all feelings need to be honored in order to move forward in a healthy way. Nevertheless, he really had a point with the humor bit because I know that responding like I have in the past certainly hasn't led to less teasing and more respect.  Maybe there's a time to use humor and later a time to receive empathy from those you love and trust.

So I wondered ... could we help teach our kids to learn to respond to some situations with humor?

Who knows, but it made for an enjoyable and therapeutic (maybe?) family night.

Sidenote: We Will Rock You made for an awesome opening song. (Bumh bumh chhh, bumh bumh chhh).

I asked each of the kids to take a piece of paper and write down a time when someone hurt their feelings or made them angry.  They didn't necessarily have to write the name of the person - it might have just been "my friend" or "my boss" and just a short description of what the person said or did.

We put all the papers in a bowl.  Then we divided into teams of 2 people.  Each team took out 2 papers (hopefully not their own).  Then that team had to go figure out a way to act out the situations described ... with a punchline ending. In other words, one person was the tease/meanie, and the other had to respond with their best joke/comeback.

We came back together and role played what we had practiced for the rest of the family. I don't know why, but my kids love games like this - any kind of acting or charades.  And they seemed to like the chance to talk about the times when their feelings had been hurt and what their actual response had been vs. what it might be today.

Some examples:

My boss asks me what am I going to do to bring in a lot more business by the end of the month (when I'm already working super hard).

My friend called me a "butthead."

Mom yelled at me (Me being the dog - she participated, too, since we have an odd number in our family. Admittedly, this could have been from one of the kids, too.)

A teacher got angry at me for being in a room that she thought I wasn't supposed to be in, but I had permission to be there.

And then we ate ice cream because if there is anything we believe, it is that Family Night is NOT Family Night without refreshments. Amen!

Conversations with my mom in my head

Me: Do you believe the inquisition was wrong?
My Mom: Yes.
Do you believe the holy wars were wrong?
Yes.
Is it wrong for ISIS to kill and suicide bomb based on religious belief?
Yes.
Do you think it is right for Arab men to force the women (by law) to cover up?
Yes.
Do you think it is right for some countries to deny their female children equal access to education?
Is it wrong for religions/governments to use propaganda?  Or control outside information?
Yes.
Is it wrong for Muslims to believe that if they kill themselves in Jihad that they will be given so many virgins in heaven?
Yes.
Did Warren Jeffs do bad things?
Yes.
Do you approve of any fundamentalist religion practicing polygamy today?
No.


Mom, I think it was wrong of Joseph Smith to lie to his wife.  I think it was wrong of Joseph Smith to practice polygamy, to approach married women or young converts and threaten them with spiritual destruction if they refused him. I call that manipulation, exploitation ... abuse.

I think it is wrong for Mormon women to constantly be haunted by the idea of polygamy, and Mormon men to entertain the idea that they may have many more wives if not in this life in the next.

I think it is wrong for us to say that we are the only ones who can or did practice polygamy righteously.  I believe it is probably a rotten practice when people choose to live that way without coercion, I believe when it is a practice undergone due to religious faith, that constitutes abuse.

I think it was wrong for Joseph Smith to destroy a printing press which was printing unflattering - but true - facts about his practices.

I think it is wrong for the LDS church to have tried for decades to control the flow of information to its members, editing out many important details that could have led to greater understanding and choice when it came to their belief.

I think it is wrong for us to believe that we are different and inherently better than all the other world religions.  We are the same.  I think our beliefs are typical in their self-centered and narcissistic nature.

I believe that we are no better and no worse than any other people in all the world.  I am tired of the impossible task of  calling ourselves sacred, and calling ourselves specifically sacred because we engage in the same self-centered, abusive, and wrong practices that all other religions engage in.

pushing around heavy souls (a poem)

I saw him on the way to bring the kids home from school

He was graceful

And his baseball cap belied his masculinity

As he gently pushed the storm drain cement pipe

Hoisted by a crane, rooting for the earth
15 feet long and it’s girth almost as wide as he was tall

And it responded to his touch

Beautifully

By swinging just the right amount,

In just the right direction

Over the deep rectangular pit that had been dug for it

In the warm black clay earth.

I am maneuvering heavy souls

That appear as freckled, gangly bodies

With dirt under their nails and and germy fingers

Disheveled hair

Sometimes teary-eyes, sometimes impertinent

And I push them

Too hard

Too fast

It feels wreckless

And sometimes I want to jump back

Or just run away

My feet won’t move

And I’m there to catch them

As they spin back around

To crush me

My body slows their momentum

Or is it my heart

My ribs are crushed

Or is it my heart

My knees buckle

Or is it my heart

And I realize they nor I will ever get up

I’ll be holding my heavy souls on my lap

All my life

Or is it my heart

i wake up each day to someone else's life

I feel bewildered.  Lost is not too strong a term.  But not lost in that I wish I hadn’t gotten lost.  Lost in that I know I’m where I’m supposed to be, but it is so very very unfamiliar.  And I miss familiar – a lot.

I feel like I am waking up in someone else's bed with someone else's life. This probably has a lot to do with the fact that simultaneous to my setting myself adrift from the church, we moved twice in one year.  I live in an unfamiliar house in an unfamiliar neighborhood.  My kids go to different school, I shop at new stores.  I watch the sunrise and sunset from a different vantage point now that we are in the west plains rather than the East benches.  The pittering quail and overgrown trees of Sandy have been replaced with winter’s fallow fields and swarms of black and white birds swarming in big empty skies. It’s a good life, it’s a nice place, but nothing feels familiar.  Did I mention this is very disconcerting? I would not flinch if I looked in the mirror and saw a different countenance than the one that has appeared for the last 37 years. 

men and women

Men, through Joseph, are bestowed with an identity of being special, of communing with God, of trail blazing and commanding and fighting off naysayers.  And if this is the legacy of Joseph for men, Emma’s legacy for women is one of being lied to, neglected, cheated on, and having treasured withheld from her (seeing the plates for example) as her part in the role of bringing to pass God’s work.  This is what I learned from her – so when my efforts at noble obedience seemed to result in betrayal or neglect or failure, what was I to suppose?  That all of this could very well be my part to play, his plan for me.

But then, how in the world could I love God?  

And in fact, in the end, I hated him.  I continued to be obedient, but my feelings betrayed me.  I could not will myself to love a God like this.  I hated him and I hated myself for not glibly going along, a smile on my face, loving this wonderful God who had given me so much.  I hated myself – I do have so much – a wonderful family, wonderful children – how could I be so ungrateful?  I must just be rotten, and that is how I felt.  But deep down, I could only see God as a two-timer, double-speaker who told me he loved me but was willing to crush me under his heel if that meant furthering his plan.   

people, I need you.

Today I sat on my neighbors' lawn and we chatted as the kids played.  Oh, it was so good for my soul.

This, most of all, is what I can't walk away from; this being among people, close to people, needed by people, and in need of them.  If there is a perfection in the church, it is in interweaving our lives with others.  I am woven to other women, my children are woven to their children, I am woven to their children (perhaps as their primary teacher or scout leader) and they are similarly woven to mine. Our family is woven to the father down the street who teaches my sons or comes to visit our family as our home teacher. And to our sweet eighty-something neighbor who accepts a plate of dinner from my kids and sends them home with pocketfuls of sweets.

Of course, the downside to this is when we give so much to others that we neglect our own family.  And this can happen a lot.  Think about any bishop who has young children and I think you'll agree. But that's a different post.

For now, I just want to say...people, I miss you.  I need you.  I wish I wasn't so scary to you.  I wish I didn't want to protect you by keeping my distance.  Thank you, neighbor, for letting me sit on your lawn and watch our children play.

Barbra says it much better than I can.

a thank you to my gay friends

I was listening to the radio yesterday (NPR, of course) and they were discussing the issues Alabama is having.  Alabama is the newest state to legalize gay marriage - the 37th to do so.

The commentator was noting that something like 50% of people in America still oppose gay marriage, but for every elderly person who dies opposing it, a baby is born who will grow up to support it.  We can all see things are changing.

Anyway, it just made me glad things are changing.  And it made me grateful to get to feel the way I do, which is that we are all just brothers and sisters, deserving of love and fulfillment and meaning and choice.  And it made me grateful for the reasons why I get to feel the way I do, which is the several brief but sweet friendships I've had with people who are gay.  When I think of them collectively, I just think they are some of the kindest, funniest, most honest people I've met.

People say girls are supposed to like the bad guy, but in elementary school my peers and I were all in crush with the same nice guy.  He was sweet and thoughtful, soft-spoken and funny and the most fun to play with at recess.  I remember him giving me some cute erasers once. It wasn't until years later that I found out he was gay.

The first guy I knew who was openly gay I met in junior high.  He was tall and boisterous and hilarious.  I just remember sitting around as a group at lunch and listening to him tell stories and laughing until it hurt.

During a summer reprieve from college, I worked at the front desk of a hotel in downtown Salt Lake.  More often than not, I worked alongside a guy about 10 years my senior who spoke openly about himself and his partner. He was well spoken and funny and really good at listening to people.  The thing I can't forget is the time I was struggling with a disgruntled guest and how Rob dashed to my side and intervened in my behalf.  I really can't think of a time another man rushed as swiftly and confidently to rescue me.  It might have been a small thing, but it has stuck with me.

So when people around me talk about homosexuality as a curse or problem, I really can't agree.  My experience tells me they are just good people, except with a slight advantage when it comes to listening and being inclusive. Experience tells me I like being around them, and I would like nothing more than for them to have the same chance at happiness as the rest of us.  

One last thing.  The most recent gay man I met?  My best friend's husband.  When he let her know he was gay several years and kids into their marriage, it broke her heart.  It rewrote her life and in many ways it scarred her for life.  They went through a lot of painful years before divorcing and going through a lot more painful years.  My best friend is funny and outspoken and full of energy and vulnerable.  I had a hard time forgiving her husband, but to her endless credit, she forgives him and miraculously overlooks his shortcomings as few divorced people can when it comes to their ex.  She is in many ways his defender, siding with his rights.  In the end, she does not accept that it is right to expect him to be celibate, to not experience love and connection and passion and commitment.  I don't either.

meet me in the mountains

Rich and I no longer want to attend church. But we have older children who do want to go. So we decided to go to Church as a family every other week.  It works well for now.

The Sundays we don’t attend church feel like an amazing gift.

I did not want to just let Sundays become like every other day of the week. Since Rich works so much, we thought adding in some quality time as a family would be amazing. So we decided to try to create something meaningful and special. We call it our “Family Sabbath”.

 

Each Family Sabbath, we go exploring. I’ve lived for Utah for 20 years now, and I still feel like there is so much to explore, not to mention four seasons that make each place special in different ways throughout the year!

    

Do my children complain about driving far away (ie 30 minutes) or hiking or leaving their electronics? Yes, yes, and yes. But I have to say that each of these adventures has produced many amazing moments of discovery and wonder, laughter and play. Together, we’ve run down grassy hills and sledded down narrow trails of sparkling snow. We’ve set adrift wispy seeds from giant dried pods and plucked up tiny red fern-like plants growing underneath melting snow. We’ve ridden scooters and played tennis and admired outdoor sculptures and indoor works of art.

      

I’m not sure if my kids will someday love the mountains as much as I do.  But for now, these are the best days. On these days, I feel strong. My mind is clear. I feel capable of handling the challenges of life. I am brave enough to meet myself, to think about all that I have not yet become and all that I must do and to plan for it. I have my greatest loves holding my hands and mother nature showing us her secret wonders.  

I wanted to create a place for other mothers like me who may be struggling with their faith and need support and quiet and hope – that’s my reason for starting this blog. Heaven knows I am looking for support and wisdom from like-minded others, too! But I hope sharing these places will help you on your journey, whatever that journey may be.      



find help here...
Parenting children outside of the Church's framework can feel very scary and overwhelming. I'm so grateful I read Unconditional Parenting by Alfie Kohn several years ago. IT IS LIFE-CHANGING.  Even if you are nothing like me, read it.  Even if you are not a parent, read it. I did not know it was possible to interact with my children in a such a loving and honorable way, and I could not mean that more sincerely.

Is your family split between believing Mormons and non-believing Mormons? Are you and your spouse on different pages when it comes to religion? This podcast, Raising Children in a Non-traditional LDS Home helped me so much.  These parents are so thoughtful in the way they raise their children, and I found listening to this to be so helpful.

this is me

I’m 37 and I’m starting over. Kind of.   

I was raised in a loving Mormon home, and I loved it. I loved my parents (still do), I loved living all the commandments and virtues I was taught, I loved having a dependable, supportive community, and I loved feeling special.

Adulthood changed things for me. To make a long (long, long, long, long) story very short, over a period of about 10 years I became increasingly disturbed by facts about Mormon history, specifically facts about Joseph Smith.

I would not let myself doubt that he was a prophet, but I found to my dismay that I was increasingly distrustful of God. I found it impossible to trust and love a God who could command adultery for his purposes.   

So, at 36, I finally made the strangest and most difficult decision I have ever made. I decided that I no longer believed in Joseph Smith being a prophet. And I decided I had to start being honest with my family and most importantly, honest with my children. I cannot express how miserable I had felt teaching them things I didn’t believe while at the same time hating myself for not believing them.

Something magic happened. As I began to be honest, I felt like a good person. I began to feel like my efforts to be a good mother, made me a good mother, regardless of my inability to share a burning testimony. Believing in a loving God seemed like a possibility, if a difficult one.

Something tragic happened. I devastated my family. I caused people I love great, great pain. I am still grappling with this, and probably always will.

I also lost a very helpful mechanism for making friends and building a sense of community and support. I lost my framework for teaching my children values and providing them a village, a sense of belonging, and a host of kind and selfless mentors.

It is now several months since I made my decision, and predictably, life is a mix of good and bad, hope and despair, success and failure. Many days I feel like I’m in a bad dream because everything feels unfamiliar and slightly off. I had such a clear path before, and now I have to lay the stones to make my own path. It is empowering and it is overwhelming. 

I am fortunate in that several weeks after I made my decision, my husband also came to the conclusion that the Church was not the “only true church”. I am so grateful that we have been able to build this new path together, hard as it has been.

Leaving the Church, I lost so much. It’s a painful rebirth into this world, and I got to bring very little with me. But there are three things I cherish that I still have, and I am building my new life around them.

Family.  I love my husband and my five children more than words can say.  They are a joy deep, a challenge wonderful, and my everything.

Mountain.  My deep connection to nature, this remains.  This is the spiritual part of me that has never betrayed me, that has remained a consistent source of beauty, majesty, inspiration, solace, and a connection to the divine/creator.  When I explore the mountain trails, I feel alive and excited and exactly like the brave explorer I wish to be.  

Home.  Since we just moved, I can’t really say I have this so much as I still dream of this. I dream of having a place that feels familiar, comfortable, peaceful and loving, a place full of people who are accept us and love us. I’m going to build it. I’m going to try.     

find help here...

When I knew I needed to change my life, this post was so powerful.  I was worried about so many things, but focusing only on becoming the good person I wanted to be helped me cut my anxiety dramatically. I love her words.  If you don't know where to start, start here. 

The LDS Church has recently posted some new essays about Joseph Smith and polygamy on the Church's official website, lds.org.  Find them here and here.