My family joined the Church out in the "mission field" when I was 6. It's been a long road. Because of things that happened within my family and in the church while I was a teenager, I felt scarred and unworthy from a young age. I married someone who was also messed up, a returned missionary, in the Temple. Looking back, that day -- 35 years ago -- is the day the door began to open to what I am experiencing today. I wonder why no one ever stands up at the beginning of the endowment session and says, "Wait a minute! You're actually asking me to commit to -- what? -- before God and witnesses? That's crazy. Tell me what I'm committing to, and I'll give it consideration."
I'd learned, unfortunately, to expect hypocrisy from men by that point in my life, and suspected that was the reason for all my doubts about Joseph Smith. Those doubts were strong. I raised 5 children, attending church every week with the thought that they would have a framework, a foundation, for their lives, and also enjoying sitting in Sacrament Meeting with them. I prayed that God would compensate them for the lack of a father and the mistakes of their "unworthy" mother, and that somehow they could have the full, worthy, joyous and true "Mormon experience."
I served in all kinds of positions, including leadership positions; because of my "unusual" but "faithful" LDS history, I was asked to speak to women at stake meetings at about the same time I became the ward RS President. Sometimes, I got caught up in the spirit of things, but always, always there were doubts. I stuffed them, I thought, for the sake of my children. I sought that elusive Mormon dream for them.
Eventually remarried to a man with several sons, we attained all the clearances and were sealed in the Temple. Four of our six sons served faithful missions. One of our daughters was married in the Temple. When she left the church after suffering abuse by her husband followed by spiritual abuse from church leaders, I did not feel the empathy she deserved; I attributed this to her strong stubborn streak and the fact that she always questioned everything. However, when her youngest brother -- one very faithful, diligent, hard-working missionary and my youngest -- came home from his mission and left the church within two months, I finally found myself ripped apart and, finally (within a few months), open to addressing the issues which had haunted me all my life.
After two years, here I am. I do not believe in the LDS Church. My husband and I don't discuss it; after 12 years of my being the most actively engaged spouse, the one who pushed for FHE, temple attendance, no R-rated movies, etc., while he was rather laidback the whole time -- he is suddenly far more committed to the church than ever. I love him, and it is what it is. We married very late in life; he is a great blessing to me. I am lonely for someone to talk with about my experience, though, and this website is perhaps an answer to that.
In the meantime, one son -- my oldest, so beloved -- remains in the church and as a student of science is facing many challenges with his faith. I am completely open with my children and my stepsons about my decision; however, I am not sharing my "whys," as I feel that this is a personal journey that each person must first be open to -- and courageous about -- undertaking. It cannot be forced on anyone. It could not have been forced upon me.
As for my birth family, the one which joined the church when I was 6? If we were to "judge" everything LDS by whether it "worked" in my birth family's lives, it would be proven that the LDS Church and its doctrines have been severely handicapping and damaging. 7 of 9 children are now inactive, members of another church, agnostic, or believers in God but disdainful of religion. My birth family is rife with addictions of several kinds, with one very LDS sibling currently in prison. Nonetheless, my parents hold on for dear life to their testimonies. They are too old, I believe, to face the unraveling of the fabric of their lives when every thread is stained with the unique colors (doctrines and myths) of the church and Christianity. To reweave the fabric of my own life -- a process still in the works, perhaps for the rest of my life -- has taken more courage and strength than I knew I had. This final process -- the last two years, the years since I last attended BYU Education Week -- have been without question the most painful, and in some ways frightening, two years of my life. Which is fair; it's what my youngest son went through, while on his mission, largely thanks to me, after all.
An interesting sidenote: When once I talked with my sweet Mother about one of my issues with the church, she asked if I had spoken with my husband. I said yes, of course. She suggested that we fast and pray together, and that I then allow him to make the decision about the church for us, as a couple. I responded that a) my husband would never agree to make a decision for me; and b) I would never do that, either. She then stated: "Oh, I just love that and always accept Daddy's answer, because then -- if he's wrong -- I don't have to be accountable!"
I was stunned. I have no way of knowing if this was a lifeview with which Mom was raised as a young girl, or if it came to her through the church. Either way, I realized it may be a mindset that was passed down to me, and that has held me back for years. My whole being screams out against this attitude; and in fact, it always has... but, until now, the scream was muffled 'way down deep in that place where I stuffed so many things.
I stand behind and in admiration of the mission statement for this website. Thank you. Thank you to those who have written their stories for me to read. I am uncomfortable with those who are bitter and angry here, but after reading what has been written regarding anger as a part of the healing process, I can be at peace with all.
It is good to be able to honor every person for where they stand, and to hope for every person to stand with honor.
Sincerely,
Radiance