"Free at last, free at last. Thank God Almighty, we are free at last."  Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

 

I was born into the church in 1984 to a nuclear family- mother, father, three little girls.  I was the youngest.  In 1985 my father left us- he said he was sick one Sunday and when we came home from church, there was a long, hand-written letter for my mother on the bed my parents shared and all of his things were gone.  My father is gay.  He knew he was gay before he married my mother, but suppressed his feelings because he had converted to the church as a teenager and felt that the LDS church was the closest thing he had to family.   My mother remarried when I was 4 and moved us to Utah.  My new stepfather was nothing short of an asshole: he used to verbally and sometimes physically abuse us.  Despite this, he was as revered at church as any other priesthood-holder, and we as children were exhorted to obey his every command. My little brother was born about a year after my mother remarried.   

 

My mother spiraled into a deep depression and emotional disturbance after my dad left.  Soon after she remarried, she also became abusive.  My older siblings can remember a time before mother took out all of her insecurities, fears and frustrations on her children.  Unfortunately, I cannot.  She used to hit us regularly, myself in particular (abusers often choose a scapegoat, and I was it).  She also called us names and was emotionally abusive and manipulative.  She lived vicariously through our academic achievements, always pushing us to do better and never satisfied with what we were able to accomplish.   Sometimes she blamed the abuse on our dad.  Other times she justified it through the church's teachings and mandates, and even used church as a tool for abuse in many ways.  We have been estranged for over 7 years now. 

 

I never really believed in the church.  My mental exit started around age 11 and lasted several painful years, until I was about 19.  I certainly had the feelings of guilt and worthlessness that most mormons experience during the brainwashing, but I cannot say that I ever had a true testimony of the church the way that many postmormons did.  Rather, I remember feeling terrible for lying at testimony meeting.  I remember lying about loving my parents.  I remember being forced to go to church.  I remember reading the Book of Mormon - several times- and not feeling the spiritual witness I had been promised.  I remember unanswered prayers – many, many, many tearful unanswered prayers.  I remember feeling stupid for praying for a happier family.  I remember my mother blaming her children for all the mistakes in her life, and praying that she would stop, to no avail.  I remember the expectation to be perfect – and I remember failing miserably and hating myself for it.   

 

I remember being treated poorly by my peers and church leaders because I came from a divorced family.  I remember being treated with contempt for my differences – differences in interests, differences of opinion, and differences in fashion choices.  I remember losing several friends the first time I confided in them that my father is gay. I remember many tearful and sleepless nights pouring over my patriarchal blessing, and wondering what was wrong with me.  Why wasn’t I achieving what it said I would?  Why couldn’t I feel the spirit?  Why couldn’t I be as perfect as so-and-so?  Why wasn’t god answering my prayers?  Had I really chosen these circumstances – this family – in the pre-existence? 

 

Mormonism did great harm to me during my adolescent years.  The young women’s program is essentially indoctrination tailored to 1950s gender roles and unrealistic expectations of marriage, motherhood, and life in general.  It was painful to sit week after week and recite “values” that had been misinterpreted and twisted to serve the church’s agenda, and to hear that my only worth as a girl could be found between my legs.  Further, the notion that college is for “finding a mate” offended my intellectual, curious sensibilities.  It was incredibly difficult for a strong and stubborn personality like me to stomach the obvious lies and lack of reality that were presented to me on a weekly basis at the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.  I learned to fake interest and happiness well; I learned to lie well, too. 

 

The combination of abuse at home and idiocy at church led me to do some things I now regret, including harming myself and attempting to take my own life.  As a teenager and young adult, I cut and burned myself regularly to ease – or perhaps truly feel – the pain of being unloved at home and unworthy in the eyes of god.  When my mother found out I was mutilating myself, I was punished.  When a YW leader found out, she called me to repentance for “desecrating” my body.  I was met with sympathy and understanding by one, sole mormon: my freshman year seminary teacher who knew of my struggles and encouraged me to be strong and be myself.  He saved my life by reporting my suicidal thoughts to an appropriate authority, which enabled me to get the mental health help that I needed.  I was fortunate that our stake president was also the designated counselor at my high-school, and as a trained mental health professional, recognized that my needs went beyond fasting and praying.  I received excellent therapy from a non-mormon professional for 6 months, until the therapist asked that my mother join us for a session to work out some issues.  Mom refused, and withdrew me from therapy immediately. 

 

I stopped going to church when I was 17.  It lasted for about a month before my mother came to me and said I had to keep going.  A few months later I was essentially forced to leave home – a “blessing in disguise” as folks often say, for it afforded me the opportunity to experience life without mormonism.  I went to college and questioned whether the church was true, although I was leaning toward "untrue."  I briefly attended church, but knew it wasn't for me – I had never fit in and was tired of pretending.  I decided to live in sin and damn the consequences.  I had become disillusioned with the idea of spending eternity in the celestial kingdom with mormons (I knew I’d have no friends and that my favorite family members wouldn’t be there, either).  About a year later I became curious as to what all the fuss was over "anti-mormon literature" so I googled it.  Found exmormon.org, did some research, learned the truth, resigned from the church, and never looked back.  That was almost 5 years ago.   

 

I no longer believe that I am a bad person.  I no longer believe that I am a bad daughter.  I no longer believe that I am going to hell, or that there is an afterlife at all.  I no longer believe in god.  I feel free, now, to live my life for the sake of enjoyment and for the sake of helping others, not to gain exaltation in another life through tedious rules and bigoted shunning of other.  I am free to experience life and love in ways that I never could have under the shroud of mormonism.  I am free at last! 

 

Peace & Love,

-Free At Last!