So, about 6 months ago, I made a decision. It was a pretty big, kind of life changing decision. I decided to stop going to church. Just a little bit of a review. I was baptized into the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints when I was 8 years old. I'm not entirely sure why. I didn't know what I was doing and my parents didn't care. They had become inactive as teenagers. But I was baptized nonetheless. For a few years, I went to church occasionally with aunts and uncles. But I never attended regularly. When I was about 14, a high school freshman, my family (which at this point included my dad, stepmom, brother, stepsister and stepbrother) had moved to a new county with "better" schools. I was much closer to several of my aunts and uncles and people in the church started reaching out a little more. I started to go to Wednesday night mutual activities with the youth. And eventually I started going to Sunday meetings. I became fully active in the church, and even started going to early morning seminary and thinking about BYU for college. When I was 17, my family was moving about an hour away, and I didnt want to go. I was almost through my junior year in high school and wanted to graduate with my friends and finish my senior year there. So, my aunt and uncle let me move in with them. About a year and a half after I graduated from high school, I went to BYU Idaho. And after 4 years there, I moved to Memphis, Tennessee.
And that brings us to March 2013. I'd been living in Memphis for about 7 months and I had made some friends at work. They were all non-member friends and I didn't care. I was attending the local singles branch and serving as a counselor in the relief society presidency. The more time I spent with my friends from work, the more I realized it was time for me to make a decision. I was living 2 separate lives. Two very different lives. And it was these friends that helped me to see exactly what I had been feeling for years. I was tired of pretending. In order to be a member of the church, I felt I had to pretend to be someone that I'm not. I realized that when I was at BYU Idaho, and I was sitting in the honor code office waiting for my fate. I'm different. I like different things. I was going to church for all the wrong reasons. You shouldn't be there because you think you have to live up to others' expectations. You shouldn't be there because that's the only place you've ever known how to make friends. You should be there because of your relationship with God and Jesus Christ.
So, I decided to stop going because I was there for the wrong reasons. I was there because I spent the last 6 years pretending to be someone that I'm not just because I wanted to please other people around me. And I felt like I didn't belong there. Especially after I dyed my hair black and got my cartilage pierced. And in the same weekend missed Sunday meetings to go to the zoo with some friends. When I went back to work on Monday, a guy that also went to the singles' branch said, and this is a paraphrase, you dyed your hair a satanic color, got a satanic earring and when you were at the zoo instead of church you probably spent the whole time looking at the bats and snakes and other satanic animals. He later apologized and said he was "joking" but I will never forget that and how it made me feel. I walked away from him with tears in my eyes and that was what solidified in my mind that I don't belong.
Fastforward 3 months, I've moved to a different location at work. One that is closer to home. And I've finally decided to tell someone how I've been feeling. I went to my roommate, Jennifer. She's awesome and I knew that if anyone would be understanding and help me figure out what to do, it would be her. So, I told her one night when we were sitting at the table with my brother and our friend Lauren. We were all sharing problems that we had and I decided to share this one with them. They were all understanding and helped me come up with a game plan. I went to church the next day and asked for my records to be moved to our home ward and I let the relief society president and my home teachers know what I was doing and why. It was almost empowering to be able to tell them how I'd been feeling and get it out there. Everyone that I talked to about this was sad and didn't want me to go, but they were understanding and encouraging. They wanted me to know that they were there when I'm ready to come back.
Fastforward about 6 months, to the present. Well, to this past Saturday. I was at work and when I checked my phone, I saw that I had a call from a number I didn't recognize. So, I called the number back on the store phone. I got the voicemail of the sister missionaries and hung up quickly. But then they called back. And anyone that knows me, knows that I have a slight problem with saying no. I agreed to have them come by to meet me that evening after work. It started out fine. Just asking questions about each of us. Then we got to the part about church and they started asking what our callings are. My roommate shared hers and I told them that I don't have any. And I told them that I haven't been to church in awhile. Then things kind of spiraled out of control. The next thing I know, after I explain my reasoning to them, I'm being attacked (or that's what it felt like, at least) with statements like "we know that satan is going to lose and he's the one that entices us to do bad things, and we know that Heavenly Father is going to win, so do you want to win or do you want to lose?" Honestly, I don't know. I don't even know if the church is true. I never found out for myself. I went along with other people's testimonies and pretended. And after meeting with those missionaries, I feel that if it is true, I'm a terrible person, and I definitely don't belong. I felt like they were trying to manipulate me into going back to church. That's not how you share the gospel or bring a lamb back into the fold. I hope that's not how they attack non-members and try to bring people into the gospel. I hope that no one ever has to feel degraded and attacked by missionaries like I did after they left. If I recall correctly, is that how Jesus Christ treated people? When the adulterous woman was brought in front of him, was he the first one to throw a stone? No. He said "he that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her." (John 8:7). I'd been feeling like I might be ready to go back to church, after going to church activities for a few months. But after the sisters left, I don't think I'm ready. And I don't think I'll be ready for a long time. To quote something that is often said in the church, I'm choosing to be offended; I'm choosing to feel attacked.
Maybe it shouldn't matter what other people think. Maybe I shouldn't care. But how easy is it to go somewhere and feel like you don't belong? I'll stick to my "sinner ways" for now. And I'll go back if I ever get to that point. I haven't told many of my friends, and pretty much no one in my family knows. I've been afraid of what they'll think, of the disappointment that will be written all over their faces, or, possibly the worst option, the lack of surprise because of where I come from. So, dear friends and family that may be reading this, I'm sorry if I have disappointed you, and I'm sorry that I haven't told you about this decision. I'm also a little sorry that you're finding out through a blog post. I love you all, and I hope you still feel the same way about me.
And to those sister missionaries, if they ever happen to read this, (assuming I don't text the link for it to them), I'm sorry that you "cried for me when you got in your car because your hearts are broken for me."
I'm going to continue to be myself and try to figure out the twists and turns of the path that I'm on in my life. I'll figure things out and I'll get to where I need to be.
Peace. Love. Hanga.
