Hello to all, thanks for stopping by!

 

Where to begin? Hmmmm OK, how about the beginning. I was born of goodly parents who followed the precepts of God... blah blah blah.. OK, so I wasn't. I was born to parents that were dysfunctional at best, and abusive at... well at all times. They divorced when I was 4.  I was my Daddy's plaything from my earliest memories, and had already learned to feel unworthy and unloved by the time Daddy "found" the gospel. (actually he found a Mormon woman who would not sleep with him without marriage first!). I remember being given the Missionary lessons at 7, and was excited about being baptised because I had never really had the chance to be around other children, Daddy kept me to himself so that, I believe, I didn't "spill the beans". I remember the night before he married my stepmother he told me that "we" could not do this anymore because now he was getting married, but that he still loved me. Then we proceeded to Boise from California for the wedding, where I met my new extended family, multi-generational Mormons. And Cousin Mike. To say he and my dad were alike is an understatement! He actually told me that he had the priesthood, and that it was his responsibility to teach me how to please a man. I was 7 and he was 16. Not sure how I got such a mixed signal about the priesthood, how can that be?

 

I remember after we went back home, we settled into a new home-life, or at least new to me. My step-mom brought stability and love to my life. For the first time I can remember, I felt safe and could go to sleep at night without worry of nightly visits by Daddy. 

 

I turned 8 and was brought to the Bishops office for my interview. I can remember being asked if I felt worthy of joining the church. Did I understand what was expected of me? Did I understand that I was going to be forgiven of all my sins, that they would be washed away, and that it was a clean slate for me? NO! I did not know that! NO! I didn't feel worthy, I never knew why what Daddy did to me made me feel dirty, it just did, but how to you tell someone about it when you are only 8? But hey, Kewl, wipe my sins away, a clean slate is good right?  So how come I still felt dirty when I was a full fledged member? How come everyone else felt the spirit and I just felt alone? How come God didn't tell me of his love, and let me know I was as special as all of the other children around me? I never felt I could bear my testimony like all of my classmates. What did they know/feel that I didn't?

 

Daddy moved up through the ranks fast, he did the walk, without always talking the talk, but his little mishaps were overlooked.  I remember being about 11 when my best friend suddenly was not my best friend anymore. I was not allowed to call her, visit her, sit with her in church, nothing! There she was, spending the night with me one night, and out of my life forever by the next day. It was not until many years later that Mom told me the truth about what had happened. Daddy couldn't help himself... and she had the courage to tell her mother, who told the bishop. ( not the police mind you, just the church!)  Dad was brought in and questioned, but Mom said that all the Bishop decided to do was to ask Dad to pray for forgiveness, and gave him another calling to keep him close to the lord!  My friend and her family moved from the ward quickly, and I never saw her again, never got to tell her how sorry I was, and how much I understood.  Nobody thought to ask me anything, I have always wondered if they didn't want to hear my answers.

 

I grew up doing the things that were expected of me. Primary, YW's and such. I was Beehive president, and Seminary Sec.  I had a wonderful Seminary teacher who took a personal interest in me. Later in life she told me that she somehow KNEW what was going on in my life, and why. I was overly sexual, I liked to be provocative, didn't understand boundaries etc etc etc. I had no self esteem and had poor peer interactions. I lived in a make believe world that I had created because I could not deal with the realities of my true life. I never understood why no one could see what a mess I really was, with the exception of Sister "Jepson". 

 

 My cousin Mike moved into our home when I was 13, and he was 22. He again told me that God and the church gave him the priesthood, and that it directed him to lead me in the ways of truth and right, or at least in the ways he interpreted them to be.  I had never had the right to say no before, why should it be any different now? My head was so messed up! on one hand I knew it wasn't right, but on the other, I had been told to listen to the Priesthood holders in my life. If God saw that my Dad and Mike were worthy enough for them to be active upright members holding the  priesthood, then they must be. It is funny how easy it is to just disappear when it gets too hard to exist in one plane, and just move on to another. I got really good at that.

 

The summer I turned 15, I went to stay with my Birth mother. I was only supposed to be there for 3 months, but refused to go back when school started. I was away from my Father and didn't ever want to be back in that home again, so I made sure I didn't have too!  I got pregnant at 15, I had sex one time, but one time is all it took. In 1979 California had a pretty liberal welfare system that enabled me to support myself without having to return home while I went through my pregnancy. I stayed active in the ward where my mother resided, and began the repentance process with my new bishop, who knew nothing about me, or my home life. He was a new bishop, and had never had to face this problem before, what do you do with a 15 year old pregnant girl? What to do, What to do... Hmmmmm I got it, you Excommunicate her! Yeah, that's it, that's the ticket!  Oh and don't bother telling her about her court, she probably wouldn't have come anyhow right?

 

So there I was, just turned 16, a mother, out on my own, with my only support system gone. I knew all those years that I wasn't worthy of being a member, that I was flawed somehow, and at least now I didn't have to pretend to be something that I wasn't... good, clean, innocent...

 

Fast forward 7 years.  I am working, supporting me and my son, life is good. I have found some support groups to help me understand what happened to me as a child, and that it was my father's illness, my cousin's sickness that was wrong and dirty, not me!  Enter the man of my dreams, who guess what.. is... go ahead, guess.... A Mormon... you got it! Second time around for me. I had not gone to any other churches since I had been excommunicated, I knew no other God than the Mormon god, and so meeting and dating "Rob" felt like going home. I went through the year long process of being re-baptised, the heart wrenching prayers, the embarrassment of having to reveal all of my secrets, to come clean, to be purified. I even had to call the Bishop who had excommunicated me at 15. That was interesting, because the first thing he said to me was.. oh my gosh, I have been looking for you for 7 yrs, I was wrong, will you forgive me??  Me? Forgive you? But you hold the priesthood? You must have known what you were doing was right? Hmmmm....

 

Exit my dream man, turns out he was actually dating someone one else too, and they were getting married, but what the heck, I had taken the steps to be re-baptised, I had all new friends, a ward to support me and my son, so why not? Besides, the  12 sets of missionaries that I had dealt with would have been disappointed if they lost me now...  So, in December of 1987 I was once again washed clean, and confirmed a member of the LDS church. Full circle right? Wrong!

 

Did the usual stuff, lived the good life, followed the teaching of the prophets, and waited for God to lead me in the directions that he willed me to take.  Guess he lost the map, or I took a wrong turn, because where I ended up, and where I thought I was going were two very different places! I met who I thought was an upright, upstanding Priesthood holder. He told me that he had been directed by God that we should marry, so we did! We were directed to have children right away, so we did. We were directed to be sealed in the temple, so we did.. (what is up with those silly hats?? I almost burst out laughing first time I looked at hubby!) But what is this about slashing my throat? about gutting myself? Hmmm, no-one told me any of that before. And I already have an old-fashioned name, couldn't God have seen fit to call me something newer? Something younger? But OK, if that is my name, I guess I will go with it. (first night at home, Honey, what was your new name? I already forgot it?)  My husband had 2 children from a previous marriage, so within one year, I was baptised, met and married, and became the mother of 3 boys. Whew!  There was no time for doubts.. I just barely had time to do my mascara!

 

Years moved along, calling were had, blessing were given, questions were asked, and the answers were always the same. Do NOT ASK THOSE TYPES OF QUESTIONS!  Turns out Hubby had a problem with Pornography, something he forgot to mention, and trips to questionable establishments were a habit (while I was in labor no less!) Time and time again, he would go to our Bishop, repent and promise never to do it again. I was told time and time again, that he was repentant, and that as his wife, it was my duty to forgive him, and keep our celestial marriage intact. I did this over and over again, for 12 years!  Over the years when my testimony was weakened, I studied harder, I prayed harder, and I diligently sought a strengthening of my Testimony. I knelt in the Celestial room for hours in prayer, begging for God to reach out, to direct me, to guide me to forgiveness, to help ME be a better helpmate to my husband, that if it were God's will, I could heal my husbands afflictions. While I took my Seminary aged stepsons to church every morning, I also met with my Bishops wife to study myself. I took seminary at 28 years old. I tried, I mean I really really tried, but I never got that warm fuzzy feeling. But then, I knew what I had done as a child with my Daddy, and God knew who I really was right? Why would he ever want to talk to me? I was bad.... or at least that is how I began to feel, because even though I was doing all that was asked of me, I still did not have confirmation of the spirit, yet my Hubby seemed to be on speed dial to God. What is up with that?

 

So, after 12 years of struggling, with my marriage, with my self worth, with the church, it just all blew away one day. Hubby decided that he no longer loved me, I was fat! I left home in the middle of the night, because I could not take him yelling at me any more. I drove to my Bishops house and waited while the sun came up, and his lights came on. I went up and talked to him and his wife, pouring out my hurt, my confusion, my pain. What do I do Bishop? What do I do?  Go home to him, that was all he could say. So I did.  Problem was, that he had already changed the locks on me. I was homeless and alone. Gosh knows what the people in our Ward thought, I certainly never got to tell them anything, Here was my poor hubby left alone with 3 kids... Poor Poor Hubby.

 

Fast forward 13 months, divorce is almost final. I am going to college and working full-time while still being Mom with my spare time. I had a girlfriend who I hung around with because her kids were the same age as my youngest. She was going camping and asked if I wanted to come along. Sure, Why not, I don't want to go by myself, Sign me up!  Whoops.....My new bishop called me into the office the next Sunday to inform me that he had heard I had gone camping with a group of single men... Whatttttt?? Huh?????   Yeah, I went camping, with Joanne and her kids. Yeah, there were men there with their children too, but I wasn't with them, so what did I do wrong?  Oh, I get it now, because I went on a Parents Without Partners camp-out two weeks before my actual divorce, I was a sinner, got ya!  You wanna hold a court to see if I need to be disciplined?  No problem. Let me know when it is, and I will make sure to fit it into my schedule!  NOT!  You mean to tell me that my going camping was a greater sin that what my hubby had been doing for our whole marriage? I mean shoot, he never even lost a calling, he was just given more and more to keep him busy and away from temptation.

 

And I am off!  I am running! and am I through,  done , finito!  I am hurt, I am angry and disappointed! Here I had given my time and my energy, my trust to a church that had already thrown me away, and now they wanted to do it again?  Well heck, go ahead, give me your best shot, because you are just saving me a 42 cent stamp!   OK, slow down, take a breath, calm down... let it go... let it be...And so I did.

 

I continued to study, to pray, to struggle to be near to God, to feel his arms around me, even if my hubby didn't want his to be anymore!  I found more and more to disbelieve about the church and fought harder and harder to find things too believe, does that make sense? I had beaten myself up for so long, that I didn't know any other way. I had to be a sinner, I had to feel guilt, I had to know that I was not good enough, nor was I forgiven... I just did not know how to feel any other way about myself. There was never a time that I felt good enough when I went to church. Nothing I ever did was "enough"!  It did not matter how many sessions I did, how many callings I had, how many times I read the BOM, or the Bible, how many times I wore holes in the carpets at the edge of my bed. I could not, would not except that I was worthwhile as judged by the church and by the God I had been taught about. The whole world closed in on me, and I circled lower and lower in the drain of my life. Soon, I felt I would stop to exist.. I was not even worthy of the very air I breathed. Can one get any lower? Can you reach the point of wanting to die, without knowing despair? I don't think you can. I felt despair! deep in the heart of who I was. I had to die, because I could no longer live as I had been.

 

Then came knowledge, came understanding, came peace. Then came love for myself, hope for my future, dreams of my own. Then came forgiveness. And it all came from... ME!  When I finally let go of the judgments of the church, of the Priesthood, of God, I was also able to let go of the judgement I held over myself. I finally accepted that the concept of a loving Heavenly Father was just never going to compute for me, as I have no idea of what a loving father is. I finally decided that I was not going to kick myself around anymore for his wrong doings. I was a child, I was innocent, I was abused. I was not protected by the church, he was, I was blamed for what my Husband did, not him. I had allowed and taken on the sins of those around me, and I finally understood that I did not have to do so any longer.

 

Fast forward one more time if you will.  5 years down the road, happily married to a wonderful man, who like me is Atheist. He was raised that way, and has not concept of what I went through. He is one of the most moral people I have ever known, not because someone is keeping track on a big chalkboard in the sky, but because it is the right thing to be. He loved me the way I was, flaws and all, including the rolls around the belly I might add! ( funny things there, ex remarried right away to a molly skinny Mormon who has grown huge!, and i have lost 8 sizes! who got the last laugh there?)

 

So, I have a testimony that I am real, I believe I am worthy and whole. I do not believe I will suffer any longer for my Fathers, my cousins or my husbands transgressions. I do not believe in the BOM, I do not believe JS was any better than my father, nor do I believe that I will be damned to hell for leaving the church. To the contrary in fact, By leaving, I have found happiness. I do know that this is the only life I will have, and I intend to enjoy the rest of it from now on!

 

 Love yourselves, forgive yourselves, you are your own worst enemy, and your own best friend!