For some time now, I've wanted to put together a thread of letters written by Post-Mormons to their families, neighbors, co-workers, etc., explaining the emotions one experiences with the process of leaving the church.   As many of you know, disengaging from the church can be a very difficult process not only for us, but for those who love us as well.  While the intentions of our active family members and friends may be good, well-meaning statements often come across as being critical, and lacking in sensitivity to the process that often accompanies leaving the church.

As one of the earliest members of this forum, I've read some pretty gut-wrenching stories by former believers who find themselves criticized and often ostracized by those who claim to love them the most.   Many who leave report that family expressions of disappointment are particularly common at family gatherings, especially when families draw together for the holidays or other special celebrations such as blessings, baptisms, and weddings.  When we leave the church, we disrupt the construct of the eternal family, and for believers, this translates into a great deal of heartbreak. 

I envision this thread as being different from the exit stories in the Scrapbook, in that I'd like to see these written as actual letters, written totally from the heart.   I want you to express exactly what you'd like to say to a family member, a friend, or maybe a spouse, if you could.   There is no requirement to actually send the letter.  This exercise can be viewed as being similar to one you might have in a counseling session, where you write a letter to someone, or have an imaginary discussion with that person seated in an empty chair before you.  Letter writing can be cathartic, and may be beneficial to others reading your story who may find it difficult to express the emotions that they are feeling.

I would suggest that you remain anonymous, using your moniker as you do on Post-Mormon.  I would also ask that you not use family member's names, but choose a pseudonym instead.  We don't want to step on any toes regarding privacy issues. 

At some point, we will probably move these letters into the Scrapbook section of the forum, where Exit Stories can be found. 

I should also tell you that we may consider at some point, publishing a selection of these letters in book form.  If that should ever happen, any profit beyond the publishing costs would go back to Post-Mormon. 

So...with that said, start writing.  Feel free to PM me if you have any questions.

 Signature 

In the end no one will sell you what you need,
You can’t buy it off the shelf,
You got to grow it from the seed ~Chris Smither

This letter to the bishop actually started something of a fight between me and him.  This was the letter he replied to with, "who do you think you are?  Superman!?"  Somewhere in there I refer to him as a compassionate person, but I've since revised my estimation of him to "asshole to the 10th power."  ETA:  sometimes when I paste things from my word to this forum it does weird things to my spacing by taking the spaces out and making two words or more into one.  ETA: I fixed the spacing.

Bishop >>>>>>:

What I'm about to write will surprise and maybe even sadden you.  Let me preface the bomb I'm about to drop by saying that this is not the result of me doing something I wasn't supposed to do.  I've kept the commandments; I've done what I was supposed to do.  In fact you could probably say that as far as the church is concerned the only thing I did that I wasn't supposed todo was look at and study materials that do not have the official seal of the church on them.  I, as an independent thinker and a proponent of agency, have a hard time when someone tells me that I should only be looking at and studying things that are put out by a certain organization, too stifling and narrow minded, no matter how much they claim to be inspired of God. For what it's worth, most religious organizations claim to be inspired of God.

Here's what I have done.  I've essentially gone to the religious equivalent (for myself) of Consumer Reports because I wanted to strengthen my testimony andI've been told that the truth of the church can stand up to anything that's thrown at it.  This is not a path I'd recommend anyone take to strengthen their testimony, If a person wants to strengthen their testimony they should stay with the materials that the church provides; in fact, I haven't met anyone else who has taken the path I've taken who haven't felt the need to do what I'm doing.  I've come to admire anyone's ability to drive through life with his or her eyes closed and almost wish I had that kind of resolve.  In short, the church is not what it seems and is not for me.  It's been a nice vehicle and it served it's purpose by taking me places and helping me learn many things about myself and the nature of human existence but there's more out there than meets the eye, and the church is not the vehicle I once thought it was.

My allegiance to one specific religion doesn't have any bearing on how God views me, and I've had spiritual confirmation of that.  I have no allegiance to any other religious organization, nor do I profess anything but something a psychologist might call an endogenous locus of experience.  I no longer feel the need for an external source of religion.  And I don't want an ideological institution telling me what I should and shouldn't do.  Spirituality comes from an internal source where I am closest to the source of all light and love.

I've had questions for years.  I've voiced some and have never been given a significant answer other than "we don't know all there is to know yet."  This is just a fancy way to say,"I don't know." I've also heard the idea expressed in many differentways that the Truth of the church will hold up to anything that Satan throws at it.  Well I don't know about Satan but it only took me a year of serious study into the history of the church for that truth to crumble. My initial reason for even looking into the history ofthe church was to strengthen my testimony; boy was I surprised when it reduced what I thought was a strong testimony to rubble.

I used to love the church, (bishop's first name).  You know what I mean? I loved everything about it. I didn't want to believe what I was reading.  In fact I think there is still a book at the library that I started reading, only to put down after the first few chapters, with my handwriting in it encouraging people to look up the missionaries for the"real truth."  I even wrote the missionaries number in there. The most surprising part of my research process was that the huge amount of information I ran across that cast the church in a poor light came from the annals of the church itself. Citation after citation read "History of the Church Vol. (_) page (___)."  It wasn't that they were being taken out of context.  Many of the authors of these books were once LDS and probably started looking for many of the same reasons I did, they wanted a stronger testimony.   No.  I no longer love the church.  I love the people in the church, the ones who are sincere and loving, people such as you. Out of respect to you and other members of the church I refuse to be a part of that hypocrisy and profess to believe something that I no longer find true.

I don't deny the existence of God.  I deny that the Love and Light of God is exclusive to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.  I deny that the power of God, i.e. the priesthood, is an exclusive right that can only belong or be used by the phallic members of LDS society.  I deny that there is only one truth.  I deny that there is only One Way to return to God.  I disagree with many points of Doctrine in the church and feel it my duty to myself and my wife and my children that I stand up for what I believe in and bring it into the open, much in the same way that I used to for the church. 

For me, and many others I'm sure, the Church has turned into a stepping-stone of growth, a tempestuous revelatory period in my life where I grew (more from the example of my parents) spiritually in ways that the church cannot supplement anymore.  My religion has now turned inward. This, I firmly believe, is the intent of God.  And if I were God I would consider it the highest form of flattery that my children have finally started to think and feel for themselves and set aside all external sources of religion.  I plan on attending church with my wife and children until that time she and they start to realize what I have come to realize.  I will not accept any more callings, teaching, praying or any other type of church activity unless it's a social gathering.  I'll be handing you my expired temple recommend (property of the church) back to you the next time I come to church.

Here's what I expect to come to pass because of this letter regardless of the official leadership manual and what it says about someone in my position.  I expect my family to be treated with respect regardless of our stance on religion.  I expect no "love bombing," or surprise visits from local church authorities as I have nothing to discuss with anyone since my decision is completely personal and comes from a deep spiritual source that I cannot explain in any way. I expect no harassment of my wife or children in the name of piousness.  I respect you, and admire you.  I'd hope that no matter what my attitude towards church and religion was that anyone in the church would feel comfortable enough with me to not shun my family or me.  However, if I feel or see any attitude of "pious passive aggressiveness" towards me, my wife or my children I will take measures to withdraw them from church and I will have words with whomever that person may be.  I have no hard feelings towards the members of the church.  I find no fault with people who see and experience what they want to see and experience.  I do and will, however, find fault with someone who uses guilt or any other psychological influence towards my wife or children in the name of "righteousness" to have them baptized or to make them feel as though I am a bad person for leaving the church.  I still consider and will always consider many members of the church as a part ofmy extended family, until they tell me not to.   This is not an apostasy for me, no matter what you think or feel about my situation. Apostasy infers that I've lost the truth, when I believe what I've done is transcended religion to find true spirituality.

This is not a letter of resignation.  But it could be if I perceive any negative steps being taken towards my family.  This, to me, is more of an amicable breakup of a relationship, the kind where both sides interact and respect each other for who they are and try and do what's best.

Edited to remove some unrelated rambling. Sorry.

Here is the letter I wrote to my parents. I didn't want to tell them so quickly, but they wanted to know when we were going to bless our new son. So this is what I wrote. At the bottom is their reply

Mom and Dad,

I have written this letter to you so that I might be able to express all my feelings and thoughts completely to both of you. Before anything I want you to know that I love you both so much and am very grateful for the way you raised me. I know that you love me and hope that this will always be so, unconditionally.

I have not been active in the church for quite some time, and the truth of the matter is, I’ve decided to make that permanent. I'm sure that this will be a shock to both of you, but because Sam would be getting his blessing soon I felt that I should explain now. Otherwise I would have just kept things to myself.

I’ve had doubts about the church since I was a young teenager, though I always pushed them aside and ignored them because the church taught me that often times if you have doubt, it was because of your lack of faith.  With that in mind, I always assumed that I didn’t have enough faith and that one day I would be able to understand. I was super active in all the programs the church would offer even when I was the only one doing them in the neighborhood. I continuosly read the scriptures and earnestly prayed for confirmation. I went to seminary and tried everything I could to feel this faith that I was hoping for. I decided that if I emerged myself totally in things that I would for sure get the testimony that I longed for. I had studied more than any mission companion that I was with and had fasted and prayed often. I felt that although many principles were true, that I still was wondering about the foundation of the church. After my mission I was left feeling empty. I felt that although I had for sure improved peoples lives, I wasn't sure that this was the only true path to heaven.

These doubts remained after my mission. I decided to really be non biased in my search for the truth recently.Through the course of my study, I found aspects of church history that are inconsistent with what I had previously been taught, and many things that quite frankly, just don’t add up. All of this new and documented information (surprisingly not from anti-Mormon literature) only led me to more questions and even more doubts.

Like Joseph Smith I decided to ask God in prayer, but this time not looking for a certain outcome. After much prayer and meditation I came to the conclusion that it wasn't completely true. Over the course of time, it became very clear to me that I could no longer believe Joseph Smith to be a true prophet, and that the LDS church does not have all truth to it, as I had always been taught. I know that the LDS church is not the only path that will lead us back to our Heavenly Father. Since I have come to this decision, I finally feel the peace and confirmation inside that I had never felt while a member of the LDS church. I finally let go of this inner self guilt and depression that had plagued me for all my life in trying to be perfect. I finally feel like the windows of life have opened up and the sun is finally shining down on me. I feel peace and joy in my life. I am able to really progress now by loving myself and others.

I want to be clear that I'm not leaving the church because of the people, our ward is the most friendly ward I have ever been to. It's not because I'm looking forward to sinning or have sinned to the degree that I feel unworthy somehow of attending church. I also feel like I have done extensive study on my own over my lifetime and understand doctrine as well if not better is some instances than a lot of people. I am leaving because I am happier leaving, I believe that my children will be happier not being in the church, and I don't believe it to be the only church with much truth that can help people progress. I also want you to know that this is not an easy thing to do. It is very difficult. It would have been easier for me to fake it my whole life.

I have decided not to include specific points of doctrine because I don't think that it would go anywhere in discussing them. I am not trying to change your views, I respect your choices. Please respect mine. You must know that this is one of the hardest things I have ever done in my life. To come to the realization that what I have believed in my whole life is based on lies is heartbreaking. I have decided to write you even though I know it will be hard for you. And so that you will know why I am not choosing to bless my Sam. And so that in the future you will know why I won't be doing the other ordinances as well.

Again, I want to emphasize my love for both of you, and express my appreciation for all you have done for me in my life and hope that you will continue to love and be part of my and my family's life in the future.

Love,

your son,

Jared

This was their replay. My dad still won't talk to me.

Nothing that you could have ever done could have hurt me and your mom as deeply as this letter did..........

This is my exit letter. It's too long to post here and doesn't format well here either, so I did it on a seperate page.

My Exit Letter

 Signature 

“You might want to tell the truth. It’s easier to remember.” - Cho ~ The Mentalist..
A Mormon?! But I’m from Earth! - Homer Simpson..
I’m sorry, but if I agreed with you, we’d both be wrong! As it is I refuse to have a ‘Battle Of Wits’ with an unarmed person!

An Open Letter To My Wonderful, Darling, Children:

What is to become of us?  My love for you, your mates and children is endless.  My heart is yours.....always and forever.  

I know that me and your Dad have been your rock.  The sun could rise and set on our dependability.  Our testimony was set.  Our faith strong........and now we have left the church.  Some of you feel that there is now a "darkness" that surrounds us.  That we have broken the eternal chain that will connect us together forever.  Some of you are just so mad at us for withdrawing from our church membership.  Your hearts are broken.

We are so sorry for causing you one moment of pain.  Always we have tried to do the right things for ourselves and you children.  An honest, honorable, loving, kind life has always been our goal.

I believe that you would expect nothing less than this from us, and this is why we now find that we must abandon our belief in the church.

We joined and faithfully brought you children up in this Church because we believed it was the right thing to do.  We felt that it would take us as individuals and as a family back to our Father in Heaven.  We did what we thought was the right thing to do.

Some of you children now view us as heroes.  You are surprised to find that we have the determination to reinvent ourselves as people separate from the church.  Even if it costs us our good name in the church community.  Even if forever we will be branded as Apostates.

I hope that by our example all of you can  accept that we have always believed and advocated for the principal of Free Agency.  We hope that you will each carve out the best life that you can for yourselves, and your families, and that you will allow us to do the same.

Pray for us, as we pray for you.  Love us, as we love you. Accept us, as we accept you. 

This is all we ask.

I will love you always and forever,

Mother

Lilith:

This is my exit letter. It's too long to post here and doesn't format well here either, so I did it on a seperate page.

 

My Exit Letter

Lilith:

Phenomenally well done. One of the best summaries I've read so far. If / when I write such a letter, I fully plan to plagarize, ahem, borrow some ideas from you. :)

Dear Mom (I don't care if you know it's to my mom), 

Mom, you always loved me, and I know this. You told me that I was special; not just in this life, but in a previous one. So special, that I was destined to be born in "God's True Chuch" here on earth. 

You had a lot of problems Mom. Something I never understood. If you had all the right ingredients, why were you so messed up? Why wouldn't the ingredients "bake your cake"? You were so depressed...all the time...well, all the time after you gave into the Church's demands. 

You see, I remember a different woman. I remember the woman that RAN the daycare center at the end of the street. I remember the projects, and the games, and all of the exciting things you would do for the kids. I remember helping out, and dressing up, and playing ball with the other kids. That was a good time. 

But then, you  changed. You listened to the Elders, and the Relief Societ President, and you quit your job. You wanted to be a good lil' Mormon wife. That's when the fights started with Dad. That's when you started to gain weight. That's when you started to re-arrange the furniture every other week. 

Mom, I watched, and I listened. I wanted to make God proud of me. But I had questions, and I had problems. I am not going to tell you all of my problems; they would break your heart, and I am not sure you would believe me. However, there was a lot. You and Dad were so blinded by your "faith" that you were too busy to notice. 

Mom, I never wanted kids. When we watched "Orphan Annie" and you told me what orphans are, I didn't understand. Why would God allow this? Why would the "true" church allow this? How come we weren't being asked to adopt all those kids without homes? How come we were being asked to bring new ones into the world when we couldn't take care of the ones we had? It made no sense. 

Then more stuff started to be revealed to me. Why was my "greatest purpose" marrying in the temple to a "worthy" man, and "making myself worthy" of him? Why did the church dissuade things like the Peace Corps, and joining the military, and learning more about germs and such so I could learn to fight diseases? Why did my Primary teachers only want me to be a wife, or a teacher, or maybe work at home writing (as opposed to becoming a journalist for National Geographic and travelling the world). Why was I DISCIPLINED when I said I wanted to be an astronaut? 

Mom, why did my Course 11 teachers not care when other students were unable to recite the 13 Articles of Faith? They did not even ASK me to recite them, and I had MEMORIZED all of them, the way I was supposed to. 

Mom, why was I DISCIPLINED for asking so many questions? 

Mom, why were you alwasy so sad? 

I love you mom. I think you could have been a happy, productive woman. But the Church hurt you, and it hurt me. I am sorry, but I will not be brainwashed any more. I have my own life to lead, and I hope you will be proud of me. 

Mom, I know that you can't understand this right now. The Dr.'s say you have plaque on the brain, and you don't get a lot of things. I am sorry you could not see me like this. I am happy. I am not Mormon, and I am very, very happy. I am FINALLY comfortable in my own skin. Mom, I was never comfortable in my own skin in the religion you raised me in. I know you meant well, but...meh. I liked our "southern" traditions (like eating black eyed peas every New Year's Day) way more than Sundays. 

Thank you for loving me. Thank you for teaching me to read. I know you meant well, and everything turned out OK, I suppose. I just wish you had remained a Baptist. Things would have been a lot easier on me. 

Dear Uncle FAKE NAME (Sorry, so NOT creative!):

THANK YOU!!! THANK YOU!!!! THANK YOU!!!!

You know I always loved you. I loved your home. I loved your dogs. I loved you pipes, and I LOVED your talks. 

Thank you for that day...I don't know you if you remember it. I was very young. We were in the mall around Christmas time. My mom went to get the car. You and I sat with bags of gifts at our feet on the stone wall around one of those enclosed areas with the trees...

You said some really important stuff that day. You said to respect my elders but to always question things. I think about it now, and I think you may have meant to especially question the church. You were very clear; respect authority, but investigate where they say they are getting their authority from, read my history, and question (don't be disrespectful, but QUESTION) QUESTION authority.

I have no idea if I would have left the Mormon church on my own. I would like to think I am strong enough, brave enough, and have enough personal strength to do that on my own. 

However, I will never forget you, and I will never forget that talk. I really do believe I owe my current emotional and intellectual freedom to the "tree that grew" from the "seed you planted" that day. 

I wish you could read this. I miss you dearly. I wish you hadn't passed this world in that accident at work. You were the only adult I trusted when I was young. I wish I had trusted you with more. 

I love you always. And I really want you to know that I DID listen to you, and it worked; I'm free now. 

What a good idea!  This is the letter I sent to my family last June, just before going to Utah to visit them.

Dear Family,

000000000

000000000

Reading this again now, I find that not much has changed in the way I feel, except that I'm not so angry now.  Some things the church is doing in this election season are turning my stomach, but I think after the election I'll be just about done letting it all go.  I'm happy to say that both DH and my MIL (who lives with us) are letting it go too.  Neither of them have many kind things to say about the church anymore, and have only been to church once in the past seven months.  I'm not sure if they'll ever resign, but I highly doubt they'll ever be active again   .

LessMon:

Lilith:

This is my exit letter. It's too long to post here and doesn't format well here either, so I did it on a seperate page.

 

My Exit Letter

 

Lilith:

 

Phenomenally well done. One of the best summaries I've read so far. If / when I write such a letter, I fully plan to plagarize, ahem, borrow some ideas from you. :)

No Problem. The facts section actually came from Dianne Ormond's letter

"Everyone has my permission to copy and use it to suit their own needs, as I'm happy to be of help. Good luck to us all on our journeys!"

http://www.salamandersociety.com/x-files/dianne_ormond.html

 Signature 

“You might want to tell the truth. It’s easier to remember.” - Cho ~ The Mentalist..
A Mormon?! But I’m from Earth! - Homer Simpson..
I’m sorry, but if I agreed with you, we’d both be wrong! As it is I refuse to have a ‘Battle Of Wits’ with an unarmed person!

Dear Son and Daughter,

I am writing to you both to tell you how much I love you and how proud I am of you.  I know that I haven’t always been the best of mothers, but you both make me feel like I am.  I am sorry for the times I was grouchy, or even downright bitchy.  I think I have the best kids in the world. 

However, I think I owe you an apology.  You may be wondering what bombshell I am about to drop (wasn’t XXX enough, LOL?), but don’t worry, it isn’t something you don’t know about.  It is raising you in the LDS church.  When Michael was about 4 years old, and after many conversations with family members and my visiting teacher, I felt like I needed to take you to church.  Mormon doctrine teaches that if we don’t teach our children what we know is right then we will be held accountable in the eternities.  And although I was inactive at the time, I believed the church to be true.  After all, generations of my family had sacrificed everything for the LDS church.  So off we went, and you know most of the rest of the story.  One thing you may not realize is the role XXXX’s death played in all of this.  One of the ways the Mormon church “gets” you is to promise that if you do what is right and go to the temple, etc., your family will be together forever.  And if a child dies then you as parents will get to raise him after the resurrection.  If you don’t do what you are supposed to do, someone else will get to raise YOUR child.  Yeah, I know – classic indoctrination!  But I  “knew” it was true. 

When both of you stopped attending church I was heartbroken.  And sitting alone in church I would think of all the things I had done wrong as a parent.  I remember thinking of how sister and sister were so much better parents than me.  And at one time I remember thinking of how great their kids were because they were still active.  I really want to apologize for those thoughts.  But in my defense, that line of reasoning did not last very long.  In fact, on further reflection it appalled me that I was having those thoughts.  That is when and why I stopped going to church.  I decided that I did not want to be in heaven if my family wasn’t with me.  Since that time I have researched and researched.  I have thought long and hard about my involvement with the church.  As you both know, I have come to the conclusion that not only is it not true, but that they (the church) have done a tremendous amount of damage to me personally (with the adoption etc.).  I think Joseph Smith was a terrific conman.  The church is patriarchical, extremely sexist, and intolerant.  I think it often does much more harm than good.  However, we still have family involved in the church and I love them tremendously and would never think about hurting them by purposively broadcasting my views.  In fact, because of your grandmother, I will not officially resign from the church while she is living (unless they make me). 

 Dad and I have had long talks about this topic and I have apologized to him for the many years I tried to get him to join the church.  But I don’t think I ever apologized to either of you for raising you in the LDS church.  I hope that you took away the good (and there are some good things taught in the church) and threw away the bad.  I hope no one, especially me, made you feel inadequate or bad because of something you did or the way you believed.  I am sorry if I ever did.  I am so proud of the tolerant, happy, loving, smart individuals you have become.  The fact that both of you rejected the Mormon Church means that Dad and I taught you to think and reason well.  Thanks for putting me in the position to rethink MY religious views. 

Love you both,

Mom

Mashiara:

Dear Mom (I don't care if you know it's to my mom), 

 

Mom, you always loved me, and I know this. You told me that I was special; not just in this life, but in a previous one. So special, that I was destined to be born in "God's True Chuch" here on earth. 

 

You had a lot of problems Mom. Something I never understood. If you had all the right ingredients, why were you so messed up? Why wouldn't the ingredients "bake your cake"? You were so depressed...all the time...well, all the time after you gave into the Church's demands. 

 

You see, I remember a different woman. I remember the woman that RAN the daycare center at the end of the street. I remember the projects, and the games, and all of the exciting things you would do for the kids. I remember helping out, and dressing up, and playing ball with the other kids. That was a good time. 

 

But then, you  changed. You listened to the Elders, and the Relief Societ President, and you quit your job. You wanted to be a good lil' Mormon wife. That's when the fights started with Dad. That's when you started to gain weight. That's when you started to re-arrange the furniture every other week. 

 

Mom, I watched, and I listened. I wanted to make God proud of me. But I had questions, and I had problems. I am not going to tell you all of my problems; they would break your heart, and I am not sure you would believe me. However, there was a lot. You and Dad were so blinded by your "faith" that you were too busy to notice. 

 

Mom, I never wanted kids. When we watched "Orphan Annie" and you told me what orphans are, I didn't understand. Why would God allow this? Why would the "true" church allow this? How come we weren't being asked to adopt all those kids without homes? How come we were being asked to bring new ones into the world when we couldn't take care of the ones we had? It made no sense. 

 

Then more stuff started to be revealed to me. Why was my "greatest purpose" marrying in the temple to a "worthy" man, and "making myself worthy" of him? Why did the church dissuade things like the Peace Corps, and joining the military, and learning more about germs and such so I could learn to fight diseases? Why did my Primary teachers only want me to be a wife, or a teacher, or maybe work at home writing (as opposed to becoming a journalist for National Geographic and travelling the world). Why was I DISCIPLINED when I said I wanted to be an astronaut? 

 

Mom, why did my Course 11 teachers not care when other students were unable to recite the 13 Articles of Faith? They did not even ASK me to recite them, and I had MEMORIZED all of them, the way I was supposed to. 

 

Mom, why was I DISCIPLINED for asking so many questions? 

 

Mom, why were you alwasy so sad? 

 

I love you mom. I think you could have been a happy, productive woman. But the Church hurt you, and it hurt me. I am sorry, but I will not be brainwashed any more. I have my own life to lead, and I hope you will be proud of me. 

 

Mom, I know that you can't understand this right now. The Dr.'s say you have plaque on the brain, and you don't get a lot of things. I am sorry you could not see me like this. I am happy. I am not Mormon, and I am very, very happy. I am FINALLY comfortable in my own skin. Mom, I was never comfortable in my own skin in the religion you raised me in. I know you meant well, but...meh. I liked our "southern" traditions (like eating black eyed peas every New Year's Day) way more than Sundays. 

 

Thank you for loving me. Thank you for teaching me to read. I know you meant well, and everything turned out OK, I suppose. I just wish you had remained a Baptist. Things would have been a lot easier on me. 

 

 

All the letters have been great..but this one really brought tears to my

eyes..it is as if you are writing about my mother.  Beautiful!  After all is

said and done, we do the best we can..Vick

 Signature 

No, I am not LDS.

Dear Family and Friends:

The lds church is a scam and the lds leadership is full of shit. 

Sincerely with love,

your father, friend, and son.

P.S If you have any questions or concerns or are in need of further clarification please feel free to contact me.

mcldc:

Dear Family and Friends:

 

The lds church is a scam and the lds leadership is full of shit. 

 

Sincerely with love,

 

your father, friend, and son.

 

P.S If you have any questions or concerns or are in need of further clarification please feel free to contact me.

 Best ... letter ... ever.

razrsharp:

I hope that my letter to the Tribune was not offensive; it was not meant to be. I wrote it in hopes that those things which are wrong can be fixed.

 This is the whole letter that was in the Tribune, although only a condensed version was printed:

I'm actually resurrecting this from a separate thread that I posted Nov 3, 2008, around the time of the election.  I've planned to bring it over here for a couple of weeks.  Some of you have already read it, so for that, I apologize.  I think it belongs here. 

. . . . .

To my dearest family members and friends: 

Just when I think that nothing can surprise me anymore, I get blindsided by reality.

I had just finished reading a post that my sweet, active member son had written on his blog.  He bravely took on the topic of California’s Proposition 8, and rather eloquently expressed his support of the Brethren and the LDS Church’s position.  I often contribute to his blog, so I contemplated adding my laundry list of reasons why I feel that Prop 8 is wrong on so many levels.  Nothing, and I mean NOTHING would come out right.  I typed, retyped and deleted paragraph after paragraph for over an hour.  In the end, I only posted a few lines which basically expressed my sadness.  I could only say that exclusionary practices in the name of religion often divides us as a people. 

I crawled into bed last night, thinking about my brief reply – the exclusionary practices, dividing people and families, and my thoughts drifted back to a day 18 months ago when this son and his beautiful bride were married in the Boston Temple.  His father and I, his siblings, cousins, my siblings and my parents waited outside.  Who would have thought that the church’s involvement in the Prop 8 debate could bring to the surface 18 months of repressed feelings about my inability to attend his wedding?  The tears started to trickle.  Before I knew it, I was completely overcome with grief, and engulfed by those convulsive-like sobs where you struggle to catch your breath.  I was out of control, and soaked my poor husband’s shirt as he tried to comfort me.   I kept thinking of Steven Hassan’s talk at the recent conference in Salt Lake.  I thought about our many gay friends and their families.  I thought about the Flat Landers, the Jeffrey Nielsens, the Peter and Mary Danzigs, and everyone else out there who took on an injustice because their integrity meant more to them than their church membership.

I believe that it was my dear friend peter_mary who mentioned that feelings buried alive never die.  Here was my perfect example, buried 6 feet under.  Until last night.  I thought that I was WAY past this.  Not once in the previous 18 months have I grieved as I grieved last night.

I grieved because we were the parents whose hopes and dreams about our firstborn involved all things that bond parents and their children, including his many “firsts”…his first smile, first word, his first steps, his first day of school, braces, soccer games, track meets, parent-teacher conferences, his first day of college.  We even sent him away on a mission, even though we had become non-believers.  We lovingly supported him because it was what he wanted.  Yet in the end, that religion excluded us from fully celebrating the most important day of his life. 

As I walked my dogs early this morning before work, the air was cool and damp, and there was fresh snow on the mountains surrounding my northern Utah town.  The fields around my house remain much the same as they would have been when the Saints settled here in the 1800s.  Those early pioneers were fleeing persecution from those who did not understand, or share their beliefs. 

The irony in all this did not escape me this morning.

 Signature 

In the end no one will sell you what you need,
You can’t buy it off the shelf,
You got to grow it from the seed ~Chris Smither

I really didn’t send this letter to my family.  I wish I could, but they would never read it. They are simply too closed minded, too filled with fear, to concerned with only themselves to read it.  That is what being a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints has brought to my family.  No, not entirely, but it’s so tightly intertwined with their existence it’s like a terminal cancer, and impossible to isolate and remove by itself without killing it’s host.   That’s their fear, anyway.

Dear Family,

You either raised me, or you are a sister and we grew up together.  Even though we spent a lot of time in the same house, I can’t say I really know you.  Not like I once thought I did.  The love of a parent for  child is supposed to be unconditional.  The love for a sibling should be the same.  I now have my own children, and cannot imagine it any other way.  Yet it is so, in our family.   I’ve heard each of you tell me you love me, followed by the words “I cannot have a relationship with you” .  Why is it you cannot have a relationship with me ? It’s because I have discovered something so dangerous that it threatens
your very existence as you know it, and this terrifies you.   This terrifies you beyond your love for me, or any other human being for that matter.  This is clear for all to see.

There is nothing in this life that should cause such fear.   I will tell you that there is nothing that is “of God” that will would generate this level of fear.   This is what sparks this fear in you.  The inner knowledge that what it is that is causing this fear is not God himself, but some other force.   My leaving the Church causes this inner voice to scream out at you.  It raises your level of fear and anxiety to the point that you truly cannot have a relationship with me.  I understand that now.  I wish that things could be different, but that is out of my control.  

I have faced this fear.  I have taken it head on.  Yes, I held it too for many years.  I guess you could say that I have always know there were some serious flaws within the church.  They are right there, out in the open, plain to see by all those who chose to see.   Most members excuse these  flaws.  They will tell you they are the flaws of people,  they will tell you the prophets are only people,  they will even tell you that prophets  can make mistakes.   However,  ask them to name a mistake that a prophet has made and they duck the question.  Ask them for an example where a prophet led the church astray and you will get none.   Could this be possible ?  Could it be possible that a prophet has never made a bad decision ?  If prophets do make bad decisions then we all have an obligation to question their dvice and commandments don’t we ? 

The implications of prophets making mistakes is profound.  For if they can make mistakes, we need to look at every action and ask “Was that a mistake”  - Was Brigham Young wrong for denying blacks the priesthood ?  Was Joseph Smith wrong about marrying other men’s wives ?  What about the Word of Wisdom ?   All need to be examined, and we need to use our own moral compass and ask “Was it right?” This I have done.  This is what scares you beyond your love for me or anyone or anything. 

The mere chance that the prophets, the Church and it’s leaders may have made mistakes.  For if they do, and if you examine their actions under an objective, prejudice free, light there is only one conclusion that you can come to.  The Church is a man made institution,  that has been lead by, and is lead by, flawed human beings.  The ramifications of this are profound and disastrous to your sense of self.  I know this  now.  This thought threatens very thing that you have been taught,  everything that you have done in this life and everything that you hoped for in the next life.  There is a problem though. One you should consider.

Simply by pretending that it is all true.  By not acknowledging  facts, truths and the obvious,  does not make the Church true.  Nothing you can do will make it true.  All you can do is to prolong your delusions in its authenticity.  To do this means you have got to treat other human beings with disrespect and fear.  You have got to vilify them in order to make your belief somehow more valid.  For anyone who doesn’t believe as you do, simply cannot be a good, or even happy person.  Such is the nature of your belief system.   I will tell you again,  such a thing cannot be “of God”    Even of the God of your belief would not stand for such a thing, yet it is what so many simply must do to continue believing.

I’m so sorry for the loss.  My kids will never know a grandparent.  You belief in the Church has put you beyond caring for my children.  My kids will never know their aunts either.  This is sad.  They ask every once in a while, and I’m at a loss as to what to tell them.  I know they would welcome you in their lives. They are very loving and caring people.  If you ever chose to follow their lead,  you are welcome back into their lives.  The decision is yours.  You are paying a very heavy price for your belief in the impossible.  The truth is right out in the open. All you have to do is decide to look, and remove those glasses of prejudice you are wearing.

  DK.

Mama's own letter here has been something I have not been able to forget since the first time reading it.  This is mine, something posted April 3, 2008, excuse the repost, and I've never sent it, and probably won't, but writing does help.

One of the first things the first of the long line of young elders did, after befriending us, was take away the pile of books on Mormonism that we had checked out of the local library. First clue, but we didn't notice.

One of the first church activities I remember was being a Beehive, in one of the small, cinderblock windowless rooms – you know these rooms -- I remember working on this little mirror, gluing dry noodles on the back, along with crunched up aluminum foil, wondering why.   Mine looked awful. It was the beginning of many projects I hated – like small cut-out three dimensional pictures of little girls with big hats that we painstakingly glued in tiny little pieces, cake-decorating, modeling modest clothes, etiquette, how to baby-sit, dressing with the right colors, hair styles.  These were the days of filmstrips and Johnny Lingo movies that we watched in the chapel. Second clue, but we had stopped paying attention.

We never missed church. Once you make the decision, you stick with it. You become stalwarts and you do what you're asked. The ward became our community. Sunday's big lunch at noon with the extended family (not Mormons) ended with a bang, because we had church, and Mom had lessons to prepare, and church was no longer just an hour's worth of polite protestant formality. Our camping trips and Sunday swimming fests ended too because Saturday was the day for working parents to get everything done that needed to be done and Sunday was church.

I remember really bothering my seminary teacher (we had it once a week) about polygamy. Why couldn't the pioneer women take care of themselves without having to marry a man that already had wives? Didn't they have to take care of themselves anyway when the husbands were on missions? Why did some of the men have so very many wives? Could they really take care of that many wives and children? I couldn't figure that it was right for a few decades, and all of a sudden in 1890 not right. What happened to all the families after the Manifesto? One day they were doing the celestial law and the next, not only illegal but doctrinally wrong too? God thinks polygamy is useful? Why?

Fast forward to college. I transferred to BYU because I thought that was the right thing to do and everyone was telling me it was so great, and felt unhappier than I ever had in my life that first semester, violently hated the first religion class I had the misfortune of taking there, but because of some great professors, a few good friends, and too much pride to leave, did graduate with my English degree. Studying great books with people that love great books (of course that excludes all the pesky law students – just kidding) can never steer you wrong.

Happily landed back home, vowing never to live in Utah again -- never make a vow you can't keep -- and still on the faithful assumption that the church knew what was right, I listened to my very charismatic bishop who flattered me into thinking it was time to go on a mission. And for my part, I wanted adventure. I planned to use the mission time to do my best and really, finally discover if the church was true – and did love the people, the missionaries, and much of the experience. Never could stand approaching innocent people on the street and asking them about religion. I seemed to have an internal magnet that attracted kind atheists who would, I was so grateful, talk to me with great patience. That should have been a clue too.

Then, the usual track of coming home, quickly getting married after a short engagement, and of course the move to small-town Utah for the new job. I miss my hometown and the greenery of it like an old friend, even though we've been here all this time. Also, the same thing I missed at BYU – the rough and tumble of a diverse city, where you have friends that talk to you unworried about where you perceive they might be faith-wise. The unpredictability of truly not knowing where people stand on an issue, where conversations can still go in wild directions instead of sounding like rehearsed statements from the Proclamation on the Family, or start with “we believe”.

We can't seem to let down our guard. Why is there an unspoken (often spoken) judging that happens in the church and small town community even between people that know each other well – is she slipping? Is she faithful? Is that the smell of coffee? How short is her skirt? Does she cry appropriately when she bears her testimony? Temple? Garments? Are her children doing what they're supposed to? He has a blue shirt on? Can't he pass the sacrament? Her nails are a mess! Are we friends or competitors?

Then there was 2001, and September 11^th. I went to church, like everyone else that Sunday afterwards, and wanted to hear something. Something, anything. What I heard was, “there were no members (translation: none of us) killed on Tuesday.”

It wasn't even true. There were LDS people, wonderful ones, killed that day. Even if there hadn't been, we ARE them. We are here together, that old bell tolls for us all. The “us” and “them” mentality has done so much evil in the last few centuries, and if institutional religion is a part of that, then it's part of the problem. This religion has most definitely carefully nurtured that mentality, and that is suffocating.

But there is a time for every season, and what I do know now is that life is not about deciding whether a church is true or not, or about letting a church and its capricious leaders guide you so closely that you choose passivity and forget to or are afraid to decide things for yourself.

Don't let them tell you the answer before you've formed the question. Don't let the elders take the books back to the library. Read them. Talk about it openly to your family.  Read here if you want. Nobody here thinks you have to agree with everything said here. Just think about it. Go over to the fair/farms board and read the apologetics. Study the tone over there. Carefully read D&C 132. Whose voice is it? Read the Book of Abraham again, especially the first chapter. Let yourself think about what is being said about how God separates and curses some of his people.

There's fresh air outside, and the snow is melting. Slowly but surely. What a joy to take the path with you. Maybe life is just about being here together on this gift of an earth, and being glad about it, lucky to love and take care of each other.

Ah Limes, your letter is beautiful.  --Garyatrics

MamaPajamas post about missing her son's wedding has moved me to tears.  I didn't attend my daughter's wedding but it was my choice.

My younger daughter who was 19, not married and living away from us in another state called one Sunday night.  My husband and I were entertaining some relatives of his.  I answered the phone to and heard my daughter's voice.  I knew something was wrong, and asked her what was the problem.  She started crying.  She called to tell us that she was pregnant.  My reaction was one of dismay.  Because of our company, I told her we would talk later. 

It wasn't a happy time in our home.  I was a very active member of the church, as was my husband and my son who had been home from his mission for almost two years at the time.  The days that followed this announcement was awful.  I talked my husband into paying my daughter's plane fare home so we could talk to her and get the bishop to talk to her because she was insistent about getting married and having the baby.  We hoped she would give the baby up for adoption.  However, that didn't come to pass.  She got married and had our first grandchild.

Her wedding took place not more than two weeks from the time she flew back to where she lived.  I wasn't there to support her, and to this day, I have regretted that decision.  I am brought to tears not only because I failed as a mother to love her unconditionally but because I allowed my husband's fanaticism about upholding the church's teachings get in the way of a mother's love.

My daughter is no longer married, and I am no longer married and we both are very much inactive in the church.  It's interesting how that happened ... but I believe I needed to be free from my own marriage and from the church to become a more loving and caring mother, and eventually, a more loving and caring individual.

There's a lot I haven't said between the lines above ... but it's enough.

So, if I were to write a letter, it would be like this:

Dear Sweet Daughter,

Forgive me please for not being the mother I should have been.  I understand now that there are more important things to life than living the Mormon way.

You have taught me several lessons.  The first is to correct a mistake.  The second is to be more intuitive to what love really is.

Your loving mother ...

For this, I thank you.

My Turn:

Mashiara:

Dear Mom (I don't care if you know it's to my mom), 

 

Mom, you always loved me, and I know this. You told me that I was special; not just in this life, but in a previous one. So special, that I was destined to be born in "God's True Chuch" here on earth. 

 

You had a lot of problems Mom. Something I never understood. If you had all the right ingredients, why were you so messed up? Why wouldn't the ingredients "bake your cake"? You were so depressed...all the time...well, all the time after you gave into the Church's demands. 

 

You see, I remember a different woman. I remember the woman that RAN the daycare center at the end of the street. I remember the projects, and the games, and all of the exciting things you would do for the kids. I remember helping out, and dressing up, and playing ball with the other kids. That was a good time. 

 

But then, you  changed. You listened to the Elders, and the Relief Societ President, and you quit your job. You wanted to be a good lil' Mormon wife. That's when the fights started with Dad. That's when you started to gain weight. That's when you started to re-arrange the furniture every other week. 

 

Mom, I watched, and I listened. I wanted to make God proud of me. But I had questions, and I had problems. I am not going to tell you all of my problems; they would break your heart, and I am not sure you would believe me. However, there was a lot. You and Dad were so blinded by your "faith" that you were too busy to notice. 

 

Mom, I never wanted kids. When we watched "Orphan Annie" and you told me what orphans are, I didn't understand. Why would God allow this? Why would the "true" church allow this? How come we weren't being asked to adopt all those kids without homes? How come we were being asked to bring new ones into the world when we couldn't take care of the ones we had? It made no sense. 

 

Then more stuff started to be revealed to me. Why was my "greatest purpose" marrying in the temple to a "worthy" man, and "making myself worthy" of him? Why did the church dissuade things like the Peace Corps, and joining the military, and learning more about germs and such so I could learn to fight diseases? Why did my Primary teachers only want me to be a wife, or a teacher, or maybe work at home writing (as opposed to becoming a journalist for National Geographic and travelling the world). Why was I DISCIPLINED when I said I wanted to be an astronaut? 

 

Mom, why did my Course 11 teachers not care when other students were unable to recite the 13 Articles of Faith? They did not even ASK me to recite them, and I had MEMORIZED all of them, the way I was supposed to. 

 

Mom, why was I DISCIPLINED for asking so many questions? 

 

Mom, why were you alwasy so sad? 

 

I love you mom. I think you could have been a happy, productive woman. But the Church hurt you, and it hurt me. I am sorry, but I will not be brainwashed any more. I have my own life to lead, and I hope you will be proud of me. 

 

Mom, I know that you can't understand this right now. The Dr.'s say you have plaque on the brain, and you don't get a lot of things. I am sorry you could not see me like this. I am happy. I am not Mormon, and I am very, very happy. I am FINALLY comfortable in my own skin. Mom, I was never comfortable in my own skin in the religion you raised me in. I know you meant well, but...meh. I liked our "southern" traditions (like eating black eyed peas every New Year's Day) way more than Sundays. 

 

Thank you for loving me. Thank you for teaching me to read. I know you meant well, and everything turned out OK, I suppose. I just wish you had remained a Baptist. Things would have been a lot easier on me. 

 

 

 

All the letters have been great..but this one really brought tears to my

eyes..it is as if you are writing about my mother.  Beautiful!  After all is

said and done, we do the best we can..Vick

Mashiara:

I consider myself a manly man, but damn that brought tears to me eyes too.  I wish I could have had a talk like that with my mom before she passed away.

Nomo sapien:

I consider myself a manly man, but damn that brought tears to me eyes too.  I wish I could have had a talk like that with my mom before she passed away.

 Tears don't wash away manhood, Nomo.

"Sometimes you can see farther through tears than through a telescope."

--Unknown     

Hey, sis:

As I hope you know, I love you so much, in fact, I kind of idolize you.  I’ve always looked up to you, my big sister, the coolest, the smartest, the funniest, the most sincere, loving and caring. I’m so lucky to have you as my sister.

It upsets me to think that you might spend even a moment feeling sad because I left the church. To think that you pray for me, that you talk me over with other members out of your concern, that you spend any of your precious time or energy focused on trying to get me back. Honey, it’s a lost cause. It’s just not going to work. Give it to god. I love you so much for caring about me as much as you do, and wanting me to be happy, but please just accept that it’s not going to happen for me in the church. You’re welcome to keep praying for me, though; I can use all the prayers I can get, and you are in my prayers always, too.

Your wedding was one of the most intense emotional experiences of my life. I’m sorry to say those emotions were mixed – for both of us, I know. I wish it could have been a day of pure and unadulterated joy and celebration, but the church chose to separate us at the crucial moment. They wouldn’t let me in to the temple to see you marry this man who you waited so long for, and love so much. I wanted to be right there next to you during that momentous moment, just as you were right there next to me, when I got married. I wanted to share in your joy.

It tore me apart that you were so upset beforehand, knowing I wouldn’t be there. The protective part of me wanted to throw something, to scream. You are so lovely a person, nothing should ever make you cry -- especially nothing so ridiculous as the cruelty of petty rules and tribalism. I just hope beyond hope that the moment was not diminished for you in any way, because I wasn’t there. I hope you didn’t even notice my absence, that you floated along on a sea of wonderful emotion, that you were just focused on yourself, your husband, and your commitment. To be perfectly honest, I hope you’ve already forgotten that I couldn’t be there; I hope it never again crosses your mind.

As for me, I wish I could forget, too. Really, I don’t think about it very often. But when I do, it sears. After the ceremony, church members streamed out of the temple, and I was there to greet them. They said to me, “Jill, it was so beautiful. Jill, you should have seen your sister, she was glowing. Jill, there was this wonderful moment that made us all laugh.” And I smiled and nodded and hugged and shook hands, when inside I was crying.

I’ll never tell you this. I’ll never share any of this with you. Probably you and I will pass from this earth without ever having talked about the part of your wedding day that took place in the temple. It would be too painful for me, and probably for you; it might mar the beautiful memory of that day for you, which I would never dream of doing. I’m just writing this so that others might not feel so alone, so that others might understand more about humanity and the pain of unnecessary constraints that we put on ourselves, and each other.

I love you, honey. I still look up to you, and think you’re one of the best people god ever put on this earth. I wish for your happiness, and I feel so lucky that god gave you to me, to all of us. I hope that being in the church brings you happiness; I suspect it’s brought you quite a bit of grief -- more than I'm sure you realize, not having a comparator. But I will support you no matter what, and try to help you carve out the freedom to thrive and to be your amazing self no matter what religion you belong to, where you live, who you’re with, or what you do. I am always 100% your #1 fan and your advocate (I know you're husband thinks he's your #1 fan, but we both know the truth. ). All joy to you, sis -- you deserve it.

Dear Mom and Dad,

I love you both so much. How did I get so lucky, to have such incredible parents? Honestly, two such amazing people, to shepherd me through childhood, and befriend me in adulthood? I really won the lottery, with you two. I can’t tell you how grateful I am to you both, for finding each other, for creating our family. It is precious and a thing of beauty, and I love being a part of it. I hope you know I never take you or our family for  granted, and I know how truly blessed I am to have you.

Not having any children yet, I know I can’t even comprehend how you feel about your own -- the love you have for us; the hopes and dreams; the sorrows when we have been going through pain; perhaps the disappointments, although you would never admit to that, for fear of hurting our feelings. You are the warmest and most loving people I know, and you have made no secret of how much you cherish us. You have done everything you can not only to make our lives as easy and pain-free as possible, but as rich, engaging, beautiful, and embracing as possible. You’ve taught me by example what a wonderful family is like, what a good marriage is like, what real love is like. I love and cherish you both so much, for your unique spirits, your individual qualities. I’m so honored to be with each of your souls on this journey of life, especially on such an intimate level.

I can’t tell you how hard it was for me to tell you that I had lost my belief in the church, and had decided to leave. I was so scared to tell you; I didn’t know exactly how it would make you feel, but I knew it wouldn’t be good. I waited years, until I was on my own, and we had some distance from one another; I thought it would be easier for all of us to manage the news if we had some space to process our own and one another’s reactions.

In retrospect, I think I understand what you were feeling at the time. You must have felt like I was rejecting you in some way, because I was turning my back on the religion you had chosen to raise me in. You must have felt scared that our family would be torn apart for eternity if I left. You must have felt angry that I was disregarding your strong feelings and going my own way against your will, on such an important issue. You must have felt worried that I would be without moral guidance, and might start behaving in unhealthy or self-destructive ways. You must have been afraid that this might have pulled me away from you or from our very close family. 

I'm sorry if there was some way I could have handled it better. I can't tell you how lost I was, how devastated; when I lost my belief in the church, the rug was pulled out from under me in every conceivable way. I know I wasn't at my best, and I apologize if that meant I was less sensitive to your feelings than I could have been. I know I did pull away from you somewhat, for a few years; the church is such a big part of your lives, but I had been so hurt by it, that being in proximity to it or even hearing about it threw me into an emotional tailspin, for a time. I know you were worried about me; you were right to be, I was worried about myself. Fortunately, I was able to use all the good things you taught me growing up, to get through that dark night of the soul, and come out the other side better than ever. 

I think all families must go through some version of this, when kids assert their independence. But I know when it comes to the church, which governs so much of life and identity for its members, the issues are much amplified, and for members, even have eternal repercussions for families and souls. I’m sorry that it was such a wrench, that it hurt so much, that it was so difficult. If I could have eased the blow, or made the process less difficult and painful in any way, believe me, I would have. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt, upset or worry you.

I’m so relieved and happy that we have come to a place of peace and understanding in our lives. It brings me joy that after that initial period of adjustment, we can joke about your church, and about mine. We can mull over spiritual and social questions, without questions of loyalty being raised. We have been deeply reassured that our family and the love we have for one another is the powerful, enormous, and meaningful thing, and religious affiliations are small objects orbiting around us, adding interest and variety to our experiences.

I know we’ve been able to come to this wonderful place because of the people you are, and the kind of family you created. Your broad-mindedness and acceptance of diverse people and views have made room for me, my friends, my husband. Your generous stance of inclusiveness has allowed you to embrace my gestures of love and loyalty without question. You have allowed this rift to heal; you have allowed us to come back stronger than we were before.

I can picture you rolling your eyes, when you hear about “the bitter fruits of apostacy” at church. I can picture you advising other members to “not panic” when they find out their family members are leaving. I know you are ambassadors of acceptance and broad-mindedness within the church, and you are helping so many people by your example, support and advice. And that is just one of the multitude of ways in which you give of yourselves. We’re all so lucky to have you – but we, your kids, are especially blessed.

Having said all that, I will never send you this letter, or share the parts of it that have to do with the church. Part of how we have reached our current level of progress is by not talking about why I left the church. You have never asked me why I left, and I would never volunteer that information unless you expressed an interest in knowing. When we talk about church happenings, we talk about them as we talk about other things in our lives, like gardening, or the dogs -- as they relate to us, not on an abstract level of what is true, or who is right.

That has been our secret -- that, and never discussing the pain we all went through at that time. I follow your lead, there. I'm not sure what happened or why, but a few weeks after I told you I was leaving the church, you stopped talking about it. You stopped calling me in tears; you stopped trying to convince me to come back. I can only guess that something happened that led you to a place of acceptance, and of realization that I was not leaving you, just the church; that I was not rejecting everything you had taught me, just the church doctrines I didn't believe in or agree with. A realization that I was still your daughter, and loved and respected you just as much, and wanted to stay as integral a part of our family as always. Since you were able to "let go, and let god," with respect to my religious affiliation -- at least in your interactions with me -- the healing has been steady.

As you requested way back then, I have not resigned officially; this allows you to feel as though our temple sealing is intact. Personally, I believe we'll be together after this life, sealing or no sealing; the bonds of love and family will hold us together. But I understand and respect your wishes on that. Part of me wishes we could talk about it, sometime; part of me wishes you would want to know why I left, to understand what happened within me. But I have also learned through this process that we are all human, and we all have areas of our hearts and minds that are too complex and tender to probe without very good reason, and clearly this is one of those areas for you. If you are satisfied with the status quo, so am I. I love you both, and look forward to many more years of love and support, fun and laughter.

WOW, JillOut! What beautiful, eloquent letters! Thank you for sharing your thoughts with us. It is kind of sad that your family won't ever see the part of your soul you opened to us here.

It sounds like you have an exceptional family, also. The way they came to accept your decision is commendable and rare.

BobbiesPath:

WOW, JillOut! What beautiful, eloquent letters! Thank you for sharing your thoughts with us. It is kind of sad that your family won't ever see the part of your soul you opened to us here.

 

It sounds like you have an exceptional family, also. They way they came to accept your decision is commendable and rare.

Thanks, BobbiesPath, and you're so welcome; I hope those letters help others who are going through this.

And yes, I do have an exceptional family, and I'm not ashamed to admit it!!

This is a great thread.  I have enjoyed reading it.  The biggest hurdle for me, in leaving the Church, was the pain I knew it would cause my parents because it broke their eternal family (and I'm their only child).  I told them out loud, but a letter probably would have been a much better route.  Still, there's so many things I wish I could say now, but I can't.  It's so hard to articulate. 

Or maybe it isn't.  Maybe I can put it all into a single sentence.

I wish you didn't treat me like an alien.

Alley Cat:

This is a great thread.  I have enjoyed reading it.  The biggest hurdle for me, in leaving the Church, was the pain I knew it would cause my parents because it broke their eternal family (and I'm their only child).  I told them out loud, but a letter probably would have been a much better route.  Still, there's so many things I wish I could say now, but I can't.  It's so hard to articulate. 

 

Or maybe it isn't.  Maybe I can put it all into a single sentence.

 

 

I wish you didn't treat me like an alien.

 

 This is a hard post to respond to since the sentiment is so brutal.

I wish you well on your journey... 

::Hug::

Em

This is the letter I wrote for my mom.  The finished product includes a few brilliant suggestions offered by another very generous member of this forum after I posted it last year asking for feedback. 

Dear Dad and Mom,

 I received your packet in the mail a few days ago. [A long treatise on the gospel and two Ensigns with articles underlined] The only way I know how to respond to it is to tell you a story about a man who is a fellow member of the Southern Utah Heritage Choir. He is a Baptist and is quite a pleasant guy, but it is obvious he thinks Mormons are deluded in their beliefs. He gives us little "hints" occasionally about the correct way to worship, the right way to pray, and what the "true gospel" is. I know he means well, but it has given me an insight into how arrogant and condescending I must have seemed to people whom I tried to "educate" about the truth of Mormonism over the years. It makes me cringe, actually. I didn't trust the admonishment of the Lord in the scriptures when he says, "I can do mine own work." I thought I knew better than God what people needed in their lives and what they should know. 

I hope you know me well enough to realize that I am, and always have been, a spiritual seeker. From my earliest childhood, one of my driving motivations was to be good and to please God. Because of the culture I was raised in, I believed that pleasing God equated to following the directions of Church leaders. As I look around the world today, I see many religious zealots who have that same belief, to the degree that they are willing to give up their lives and commit heinous acts to prove their devotion. When they pay the ultimate price for their faith, you cannot question their sincerity.

 At some point in my journey, I have come to a conviction that all God wants is for us to be true to ourselves--to honor our deepest and most authentic desires, because I believe he places those desires in our hearts. I don't believe he gives a fig what earthly religious organizations we belong to as long as we are truly devoted to following the light of Christ within us, whatever we call that "light."

 Sometimes it is hard to figure out what is really in our hearts, though, when we have been trained to ignore what our soul is telling us, in favor of religious programming. We are taught in many different ways to not trust ourselves. We end up operating out of fear, obligation or guilt instead of from true desire inspired by the Spirit. When Jesus said, "The kingdom of God is within you," I believe he really wanted us to place primary emphasis on the truth within us, not value it second to external dogma.

I remember once, as a teenager, going door-to-door in our ward with Mom, encouraging inactive members to re-subscribe to the Ensign, New Era, etc. One woman told us, "I don't need those magazines. I've heard what they say many times." As we walked away from her house, I thought, "How can she say that? How can she even think that? Those magazines tell us how to live!"

I didn't understand then that "how to live" is written in our hearts, or "written in our inward parts" as the prophet Jeremiah said. It would be decades before I learned to really tune in to that source of wisdom and guidance--my true moral compass.

I went through a lot of trauma in order to figure this out. I know there are many kind, sincere people in the Church, but it is such a relief to me to finally have a little distance from a culture that is more concerned with rule-keeping and a righteous image than authenticity. The Church would never admit that that is the priority, but I've learned to give more weight to actions than words.

And if I'm dead wrong--on a totally erroneous path--I have enough confidence in God to trust that he knows the pure intent of my heart, and that that's what counts with him. I believe he values realness much more than orthodoxy. If I believed in my heart that God cares about what underwear I wear or what secret handshakes I know, I'd be following those practices religiously (as I did for many years). I just don't believe that anymore. I don't even think God cares if I smoke or drink (not that I'm interested--don't have a heart attack!).

I do believe God cares how I treat His children, though, and how I treat myself. After all, I'm one of His children, too.

Living authentically is a very different mindset than I am used to and requires some groping around inside me to discover what my real values are, not the ones that have been imposed on me. It is a rewarding way to live, however, and it must be working for me because friends have told me lately that I positively radiate happiness. I guess my countenance reflects the peace and joy I am feeling inside.

Anyway, I love you and know you are doing what you believe is right. This is just to explain where I'm coming from. I know we don't agree, but I hope you can at least respect my right to believe according to the dictates of my own conscience, as the 11th Article of Faith advocates. Maybe sometime in the eternities we'll see more eye-to-eye.

 Love, Barbara     

These are such beautiful letters, and my hope is that by writing out our thoughts, we accomplish several things: 

Putting pen to paper helps us reflect on the reasons for our departure from the church.  Leaving for me was a process that took many years, so I had lots of thoughts that were sort of free floating.  It helped me zero in on the thing which mattered most to me, and that was keeping my relationships intact even though I no longer believed.

I hope that these letters are comforting for others who have left, and I hope that they can be educational for those who visit here, but may still believe. 

 Signature 

In the end no one will sell you what you need,
You can’t buy it off the shelf,
You got to grow it from the seed ~Chris Smither

evilgeniusmom, maybe break it up into a couple of posts?

Thanks for posting these letters, everyone, they are beautiful and heartbreaking.

I know that Jeff has talked of some formatting issues with the software.  You might consider sending him a PM to ask.

mama

 Signature 

In the end no one will sell you what you need,
You can’t buy it off the shelf,
You got to grow it from the seed ~Chris Smither

Hi,

[insert friendly, family-related stuff]

As for the reunion, I would love to come, but there are a couple issues. First off, I'm pretty much dead broke (I'm paying all my tuition with loans and living on a part-time job) and I'm already taking time off to help my sis move to Arizona for college this fall. (Yes, the twins just turned 18 and are going to college, which makes me feel old and crusty.) :0) I really want to come and see you and Grandma and Grandpa, but I also feel like my presence would sort of ruin the celebrations. You see...argh, there's no easy way to put this...I have completely lost all faith in the church (really, in religion altogether) and I don't know how to handle seeing the disappointment in your eyes. I hate making everyone, especially Grandma, that UNhappy. It makes me cry even to type this.

I'm guessing from your "don't be mad" comment that you had an idea that this was coming. My dear Auntie, I couldn't be mad at you if I tried. However, I will admit that quotes such as that make me feel really invalidated, as if this is a whim or something I haven't thought over. In all honesty, I've been fighting to believe for as long as I can remember.

Please don't ascribe my departure to me being offended by someone, or being persuaded by "anti-mormon" literature, or having an overwhelming desire to live in sin. My crisis of faith is not due to any of the above. The truth is, the only thing I ever gained from being LDS was a gnawing sense that there was something fundamentally wrong with me. (Whatever doctrinal issues I have came much later. I even spent months reading articles from FARMS trying to dissuade my growing doubts, and simply learned I could spend the rest of my life arguing both sides of "logic.") But more important was that I never found that sense of peace-satisfaction, wholeness, understanding, whatever you call it-that most people speak of finding in religion. I felt like I was broken. I went on a mission with imperfect faith, accompanied by a sincere desire to obtain a "real" testimony. I went hoping that perhaps, by being 100 percent dedicated to the service of God, he would make up the difference, because I was obviously lacking something. I had faith enough to go, and to keep trying day after grinding day in the hopes that someday I would feel whole. I never expected to lose everything. Perhaps it was a selfish reason to go. All I know is, I never wanted this to happen.

What I have not lost is my hope that there is something more to life. I sincerely hope, every day, that the deep and powerful love I feel for my family and friends means something more than neuron firings and chemical reactions. I have not lost my belief in human dignity-in the need for respect and kindness. I continue to believe that the most important things in life are our relationships with other people and our experiences. I still hope that death is not the end, but I'm trying to live as if right now is all I have. Sadly, hope, while inspiring, is not faith. Hope does not give me answers.

I admit it: I miss having answers. Losing my faith has left me with an acute and pervasive sense of loss. I didn't choose this because it is easy. And yes, I said "choice." I realize I could have chosen to stay. For every previous time I lost faith, I chose to stay. To stay again would have meant to continue stuffing down my doubts with incomplete answers. It would have meant cramming myself into a mold I have never really fit. This time, I could not find the faith to sacrifice everything, including myself, for this religion. You can judge me for this if you wish. It's simply the truth. If I had stayed, I would have killed myself. I was in therapy and was ravaged by an eating disorder and utterly, horribly miserable. In leaving, I expected things to completely fall apart ...and instead, I'm finally feeling some measure of peace. It still astounds me.

My mom knows about all of this, and thankfully, she is still as loving and supportive as ever. She is amazing. If nothing else, I wish I could believe just for her. It kills me. I haven't told my dad. I don't even know where to begin with him.

Sigh. I don't want to debate about religion; I never have, and never will. I completely respect your decision to stay, and I still want hear about your lives, church and all. I realize that it will probably always be a little uncomfortable, but I hope that it will be as UN-uncomfortable as possible. Ultimately, I know that we want each other to be happy. I want to have an open, honest, and communicative relationship. Please don't think there's anything you "should" do or say to "bring me back." Of course, I don't want to feel like I have to put on a happy face all the time to "prove" how much happier I am now. Life is, and always will be, a bit on the crappily ridiculous side and I'm sure I will make bad decisions, and I will probably never have things fully figured out. However, I'm finally realizing that I am a decent person who deserves kindness (even from myself), who doesn't have to be perfect to warrant that kindness. Other than that, I am the same "Me" that I have always been. I will always be your niece and, more importantly, your friend. My religious beliefs have nothing to do with my love for you...if nothing else, please remember that.

So...after I barfed all that out (I mean, talk about a "blah blah blah session")...well, I guess you can see why I've been a little distant lately. I'm sorry. I wish there was something better to say. I don't know where to go from here...but as I said, I'd rather stay away and let Grandma and Grandpa at least have a happy anniversary without overshadowing it by being an apostate granddaughter. But I can't lie about it, either. I'm sorry. I'm so very, very sorry, because I know this hurts. Argh. Crying again...

I really do love you too.

________________________

Update: I went. It wasn't as bad as I expected, but I haven't spoken with many of them since. Sigh.

To My Sons: What I Believe

Garyatrics

March 5, 2009

            I was talking to a friend yesterday.  She told me about her feelings of loss that her father—who left the LDS church before she was born—never told her what he believed.  At age 53, he died and she lost that opportunity forever.  Well I’m 51 and her comments stirred me.  So partly as a result of talking with her, I decided that it is time to share some of what I believe.

The same sort of emotions often surface when people pray deeply.  I see this every week at the WOMEN’S CENTER.  We use the 12-Step approach to recovery from addiction.  It is only one approach to recovery and it doesn’t work for everyone.  The 12-Step approach relies on trust in a “higher power” and it often involves prayer.  For people who have lost contact with spiritual practices, those first prayers can be powerful.  Just like the moving and reverent experience that investigators can get when praying about the Book of Mormon or eternal families, when addicts in early recovery lay down their defensiveness and approach their higher power with humility, they often have a conversion experience.  I often invite my clients to take a few minutes in my office and pray or otherwise talk to their higher power, whether it is Jesus, Mary, a grandfather who died years ago, a pet dog they had as a child, fate, karma, nature, or collective humanity.  Most of the time the “Holy Ghost” experience happens.  But it has nothing to do with the truthfulness of the LDS church.