We both know that there was a time, early on, when we didn't exactly get along. I resented you for disrupting my easy life with your myriad of personal problems, and you resented me for not showing you more patience and understanding. Slowly, over time and distance, we began to build a mutual understanding of each other. We were able to look beyond our differences. We found more and more reasons to tolerate each other, then respect each other, and eventually like each other.
Eventually you became a fixture in my life - albeit something of a background fixture. Metaphorically, you were like a painting hanging on my wall. I'm always vaguely aware of you, and often think of you, but rarely take the time to stop and really look closely.
Although we travel in different social circles, live miles apart, and rarely see each other anymore, I still consider you an important person in my life, and a great friend.
Which is why I have to tell you this:
Please stop with this nonsense. It's killing you.
You have been through more in the past few years than anyone should have to. I cannot imagine being in your place - I doubt I would have handled it with the grace that you did. You have proven yourself to be a strong, brave, intelligent, loving woman. You have taken a hell of a beating from life, only to stand up and wait for more. Life didn't keep you waiting long.
You have asked aloud many times, "Why me? Why is all this happening to me?" You always come around to the same answer. You say that your struggles are from God. You say God is testing you. You say God is putting you through this for reasons you don't understand now, but that will be made clear to you in the eternities.
You say that it brings you comfort, knowing that God has a hand in all this shit you've gone through. But it doesn't. Every time you claim that you're finding peace through relying on God, you are lying. After seven years of knowing you, of reading your creative stories and your poems and your blog, I've learned how to read between the lines. I can interpret your tone.
Your God is a fucking asshole. And you know it.
You don't find any peace in God. You only find familiarity. You don't know what else to think. You insist on serving a God you resent because you think that eventually, if you're patient and long-suffering, that God will relieve of you of your pain. You will spend your whole goddamn life waiting.
God did not make you sick. God did not take your children. Thinking he did, thinking there is someone up in the sky who has made things wrong and is just taking his sweet time before making things right is completely destroying your sense of self-worth.
You are worth so much more than the God you believe in will ever let you be.
You say that you need to rely on God until you can believe in yourself again. That makes absolutely no sense. YOU are here. YOU have proven yourself to be an incredible woman, with incredible attributes. You have so many friends and loved ones who admire and look up to you. YOU. It has nothing whatsoever to do with God.
Please, PLEASE, believe in yourself! Believe that you have what it takes to power through everything life throws at you! You absolutely can. You have before. You will again. Every time you rely on God to make you stronger, you are actually weakening yourself. You cannot curl up in a ball and ride out the storm because you want to believe that at the end of it all God will make it up to you.
This is it. This is the only life you get. Don't waste it. Don't waste away.
I hate that you have had to go through these things. But it hurts more to see you falling apart and just waiting for some mystical God to put you back together. It's not going to happen. Eventually you will put yourself together again, because that great source of strength and power that you so desperately seek is within you.
It's hard for me to understand how you could possibly believe in God. It was difficult enough for me, who has never been through anything remotely comparable to you, to tell myself I believed in God. How can you claim to believe that someone who would torture you for years without relief or explanation is any kind of perfect being?
Your God is a complete hypocrite who dishes out punishments and rewards on a whim. The idea that there is some afterlife where everything will sort itself out is absurd, particularly in Mormonism. You believe that if you handle this shitstorm of life to God's liking, he will give you the EXACT SAME REWARD as people who simply coasted through life with very few struggles and trials. Your God is unfair and highly immoral. And yet you allow yourself to wallow in self-doubt. Deep down, even though you say you know God is just giving you trials because he knows you're strong enough to handle it, part of you wonders if it's some sort of punishment for sins you didn't know you committed.
I generally don't have a problem with the fact that many of my loved ones believe in God. That's their prerogative, just as it is mine to be an atheist. I truly believe that if having faith in something helps you to become the best version of yourself, then it's good for you. I don't think that a belief in God is always a crutch - sometimes that's just the best way people can find to explain all the wonderful and terrible unknowables of life. But in your case, I honestly wish you would let go of that belief. I fear that you will focus so much on the unknown reward you believe God has in store for you that you will neglect to seek out happiness and beauty in this life. You are going to miss out on so much because you have decided to wait for God to make everything right rather than focus on the things that are already right.
I firmly believe that you will find great joy in your life. Unfortunately, when you do, you will tell yourself that the God who has for so long been so cruel to you has suddenly decided that you deserve a break. You won't credit yourself with becoming stronger, you will credit God. You won't credit yourself with finding ways to be happier, you will credit God. You are denying yourself the opportunity to know how amazing you truly are.
I would never wish the things you have been through upon my worst enemy. There are not enough words to tell you how impressed I am with the way you have conquered your life. It breaks my heart to watch you deny your own accomplishments, your own strengths, and instead give the credit to a supposed God who you believe is the reason you've suffered in the first place.
Please, friend. Please know that you are so much better than your God makes you feel. Please know that you are a truly beautiful person. Please know that there is so much to this short life that you should embrace and enjoy.
You can't wait forever for a God who doesn't exist to make you happy. You are more than capable of doing that yourself.
All my love,
Kristen
6.25.2010
5.16.2010
To Those Who Left Comments on My Exit Letter
Dear Friends,
When I first started writing this blog, I felt the need to refrain from posting too often about my experience leaving the church. When I finally realized how cathartic (and healthy) it could be to write my feelings down, I was so emotionally weighed down by the realization of the lies I was discovering that I doubted I would ever be able to say enough.
My exit letter changed that.
As I mentioned in the post containing my letter, I first went through several boring drafts. I was less than satisfied with them. I literally spent hours writing and re-writing a single sentence, trying to make it as powerful and succinct as I could possibly make it while maintaining a kind of cold distance that I thought was necessary for this type of letter.
When I finally wrote the version that I mailed to church headquarters last March, I did it in a single pass. I gave it little more than a brief proofreading (which you can tell if you read it closely enough) before printing out two copies. I spent so little time on it, in fact, that I mixed up parts of my old and new address on the return and didn't notice until I was at the post office. I scratched it out and hand-wrote the correct numbers. It was the easiest letter I have ever written, because I had reached a point where I stopped caring completely about how it would be received. I said exactly what I wanted to say, how I wanted to say it, and I refused to be apologetic about it.
Writing that letter did more than just close the book on my membership with the LDS church. It closed the book on my relationship with the church. Although it didn't mention many of the facts I had discovered or explain the emotions I had felt, it somehow felt complete. Since writing that letter, I've struggled to think of things to say about mormonism that could be turned into posts on this blog. But the fact of the matter is, once I wrote that letter I simply stopped caring. I stopped letting it bother me. I stopped letting it effect me. I stopped letting the struggles of my past dictate my attitude in the present and the future.
Earlier tonight, a friend mentioned to me that he still receives emails informing him that there have been follow-up comments on that post (something I had never set up to receive myself). I hadn't visited this blog in a while and decided to take a look for myself. I expected two or three comments. I found over forty.
Dear readers, I am overwhelmed. I have such deep gratitude and appreciation for all of you who have taken the time to share with me your support, your congratulations, and your proposals of marriage.
I'm particularly thankful for those.
It is such a humbling thing, to discover that a deeply personal manifesto of sorts would ring true with so many people, most of them strangers. I realize that to many of you, forty comments means very little. Some of you probably receive that many and more on a weekly or even daily basis. But I have authored several blogs over the years, and have never had that kind of response.
I was so touched, in fact, that although it's just after 1:00 a.m., and I'm finding it difficult to remember how many beers I had tonight, I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep until I had drafted a thank-you to all those who have read my exit letter, whether they left a comment or not.
To those who said it inspired them to write (or re-write) their own letter of resignation, thank you and best of luck! To those who said it made them laugh, thank you and you brought a huge smile to my face! To those who asked me to marry them, thank you and I can easily be wooed with red velvet cupcakes.
Love,
Kristen
When I first started writing this blog, I felt the need to refrain from posting too often about my experience leaving the church. When I finally realized how cathartic (and healthy) it could be to write my feelings down, I was so emotionally weighed down by the realization of the lies I was discovering that I doubted I would ever be able to say enough.
My exit letter changed that.
As I mentioned in the post containing my letter, I first went through several boring drafts. I was less than satisfied with them. I literally spent hours writing and re-writing a single sentence, trying to make it as powerful and succinct as I could possibly make it while maintaining a kind of cold distance that I thought was necessary for this type of letter.
When I finally wrote the version that I mailed to church headquarters last March, I did it in a single pass. I gave it little more than a brief proofreading (which you can tell if you read it closely enough) before printing out two copies. I spent so little time on it, in fact, that I mixed up parts of my old and new address on the return and didn't notice until I was at the post office. I scratched it out and hand-wrote the correct numbers. It was the easiest letter I have ever written, because I had reached a point where I stopped caring completely about how it would be received. I said exactly what I wanted to say, how I wanted to say it, and I refused to be apologetic about it.
Writing that letter did more than just close the book on my membership with the LDS church. It closed the book on my relationship with the church. Although it didn't mention many of the facts I had discovered or explain the emotions I had felt, it somehow felt complete. Since writing that letter, I've struggled to think of things to say about mormonism that could be turned into posts on this blog. But the fact of the matter is, once I wrote that letter I simply stopped caring. I stopped letting it bother me. I stopped letting it effect me. I stopped letting the struggles of my past dictate my attitude in the present and the future.
Earlier tonight, a friend mentioned to me that he still receives emails informing him that there have been follow-up comments on that post (something I had never set up to receive myself). I hadn't visited this blog in a while and decided to take a look for myself. I expected two or three comments. I found over forty.
Dear readers, I am overwhelmed. I have such deep gratitude and appreciation for all of you who have taken the time to share with me your support, your congratulations, and your proposals of marriage.
I'm particularly thankful for those.
It is such a humbling thing, to discover that a deeply personal manifesto of sorts would ring true with so many people, most of them strangers. I realize that to many of you, forty comments means very little. Some of you probably receive that many and more on a weekly or even daily basis. But I have authored several blogs over the years, and have never had that kind of response.
I was so touched, in fact, that although it's just after 1:00 a.m., and I'm finding it difficult to remember how many beers I had tonight, I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep until I had drafted a thank-you to all those who have read my exit letter, whether they left a comment or not.
To those who said it inspired them to write (or re-write) their own letter of resignation, thank you and best of luck! To those who said it made them laugh, thank you and you brought a huge smile to my face! To those who asked me to marry them, thank you and I can easily be wooed with red velvet cupcakes.
Love,
Kristen
3.22.2010
Patience
A few weeks ago I was having a conversation with a friend about some local politics. She's Mormon, but considers herself a feminist and definitely leans liberal. We were discussing a proposed bill that would criminalize women for having miscarriages if they engaged in 'reckless' behavior, and the conversation soon turned to sex education (or the complete lack thereof) in Utah.
She often complains about how, as a high school health teacher, she has to navigate the murky waters of the Utah education system, specifically regarding sex ed. She wants to be able to give her students appropriate and accurate information, but is forbidden from doing so. "The crazies say that teaching about how to have safe sex just encourages kids to have sex," she says. "The people that argue against it aren't educated on what is actually taught in schools. They say they want to talk to their kids themselves, but they don't! They're embarrassed or don't know anything themselves."
From here our conversation progressed to the Mormon church's often twisted views on sex, not only regarding teenagers but also between married couples. She told me how bothered she was by a friend's husband who "doesn't believe in birth control."
Then she got kind of quiet, contemplative. She took a breath and asked, "Did you know that Joseph Smith had twenty-nine wives?"
"Yes," I replied.
"And did you know that eight of them were married to other men?" she asked.
"Yes."
"Four were married to men who were in church leadership."
"I know."
"This really upsets me," she confessed. "The whole principle of polygamy is based on getting to the highest level of heaven. Those four women could have gotten there without Joseph."
I took a deep breath. My mind was going about a million miles a minute. Yes! She's finally waking up! I thought. She's finally realizing the church has been lying about its own history! It's only a matter of time before she realizes it's complete bullshit! I racked my brain for information I could use to help her see the truth. I mentally organized quotes from church leaders, articles citing DNA evidence, the publication dates of the various accounts of the First Vision. I had always thought that she was far too logical and analytical to continue swallowing everything the church was feeding her without questioning it. By the same reasoning, she would not simply accept anything I told her if I didn't have the sources to back it up.
At the same time I was trying to keep myself in check. I knew that if I were to start barraging her with information that disproved the church's claims she would do what she had been trained to do since Primary - retreat as quickly as she could, and turn to her "testimony" to help quiet any nagging doubts. I had to let her come to me, to ask me questions, to decide for herself that she was ready for the answers. So I picked my next words carefully.
"Well," I began, "I guess it all comes down to whether or not you believe that it actually is a principle to get to heaven or if Joseph Smith was just acting on his own desires."
"The more I learn about the early Mormons the more ashamed I am," she blurted out.
I nodded. I understood exactly what she meant. "Personally, I find Joseph's sexcapades one of the least troubling things about Mormon history."
"The teaching of blood atonment, and confessing your sins in front of everyone? That's not okay," she said. "I was always taught that polygamy was because there were a lot of single women that needed a man. But that's not true. There were three times more single men that women in Utah. I also have a huge problem with the lower status of women. HUGE."
At this point I couldn't resist anymore. "What it really came down to for me was that I realized the church was asking its members to approach it completely backwards. In the real world, it would be 'is the church true?' and then you read the scriptures and study the doctrine and figure it out. But in Mormondom, the church tells you, 'The Church Is True! And anything that contradicts that or disproves that is the devil.' Their logic is that because the church is true, only the church's version of history is true. Because the church's version of history supports its truthiness, then that must mean that it's true."
I was so excited to finally be having this conversation with my friend. She knew that I was no longer attending church, but we both had politely ignored the topic with each other to avoid getting in any kind of argument. She is not the type of in-your-face Mormon that is difficult to be around, and she never felt threatened by my apostate status. We both strongly believe in "live and let live." So I was thrilled that she was examining the church on her own, and that she had felt comfortable enough to discuss it with me.
In my fantasy world, I imagined that my friend and I would continue this conversation over the next few days or weeks, and that I would be able to help her step out of her world of Mormonism and into the light. Reality, however, did not match up. I suggested that she take some time to do a little thinking and research, and that I would do the same, and that we get together for dinner the next day, both better prepared for the conversation. She initially agreed, but ended up cancelling our plans last minute. We rescheduled, and she cancelled again. A few times I have tried to subtly bring up Mormonism in conversation so we could segue into it, but she knew what I was doing and refused to take the bait.
Part of me wants to grab her by the neck and shake her, remind her that she was harboring serious doubts only a few weeks ago and that it's not healthy for her to just suppress those without really examining them. But part of me knows that leaving Mormonism is a personal journey, and one my friend will have to take almost entirely on her own. I hope that eventually she won't be willing to ignore those first pangs of doubt anymore. I hope she will be anxious to talk again, and that she knows that I'll be here to listen to her.
But until then I just have to wait.
Patiently.
And not push her.
Even though I really want to.
Patience.
She often complains about how, as a high school health teacher, she has to navigate the murky waters of the Utah education system, specifically regarding sex ed. She wants to be able to give her students appropriate and accurate information, but is forbidden from doing so. "The crazies say that teaching about how to have safe sex just encourages kids to have sex," she says. "The people that argue against it aren't educated on what is actually taught in schools. They say they want to talk to their kids themselves, but they don't! They're embarrassed or don't know anything themselves."
From here our conversation progressed to the Mormon church's often twisted views on sex, not only regarding teenagers but also between married couples. She told me how bothered she was by a friend's husband who "doesn't believe in birth control."
Then she got kind of quiet, contemplative. She took a breath and asked, "Did you know that Joseph Smith had twenty-nine wives?"
"Yes," I replied.
"And did you know that eight of them were married to other men?" she asked.
"Yes."
"Four were married to men who were in church leadership."
"I know."
"This really upsets me," she confessed. "The whole principle of polygamy is based on getting to the highest level of heaven. Those four women could have gotten there without Joseph."
I took a deep breath. My mind was going about a million miles a minute. Yes! She's finally waking up! I thought. She's finally realizing the church has been lying about its own history! It's only a matter of time before she realizes it's complete bullshit! I racked my brain for information I could use to help her see the truth. I mentally organized quotes from church leaders, articles citing DNA evidence, the publication dates of the various accounts of the First Vision. I had always thought that she was far too logical and analytical to continue swallowing everything the church was feeding her without questioning it. By the same reasoning, she would not simply accept anything I told her if I didn't have the sources to back it up.
At the same time I was trying to keep myself in check. I knew that if I were to start barraging her with information that disproved the church's claims she would do what she had been trained to do since Primary - retreat as quickly as she could, and turn to her "testimony" to help quiet any nagging doubts. I had to let her come to me, to ask me questions, to decide for herself that she was ready for the answers. So I picked my next words carefully.
"Well," I began, "I guess it all comes down to whether or not you believe that it actually is a principle to get to heaven or if Joseph Smith was just acting on his own desires."
"The more I learn about the early Mormons the more ashamed I am," she blurted out.
I nodded. I understood exactly what she meant. "Personally, I find Joseph's sexcapades one of the least troubling things about Mormon history."
"The teaching of blood atonment, and confessing your sins in front of everyone? That's not okay," she said. "I was always taught that polygamy was because there were a lot of single women that needed a man. But that's not true. There were three times more single men that women in Utah. I also have a huge problem with the lower status of women. HUGE."
At this point I couldn't resist anymore. "What it really came down to for me was that I realized the church was asking its members to approach it completely backwards. In the real world, it would be 'is the church true?' and then you read the scriptures and study the doctrine and figure it out. But in Mormondom, the church tells you, 'The Church Is True! And anything that contradicts that or disproves that is the devil.' Their logic is that because the church is true, only the church's version of history is true. Because the church's version of history supports its truthiness, then that must mean that it's true."
I was so excited to finally be having this conversation with my friend. She knew that I was no longer attending church, but we both had politely ignored the topic with each other to avoid getting in any kind of argument. She is not the type of in-your-face Mormon that is difficult to be around, and she never felt threatened by my apostate status. We both strongly believe in "live and let live." So I was thrilled that she was examining the church on her own, and that she had felt comfortable enough to discuss it with me.
In my fantasy world, I imagined that my friend and I would continue this conversation over the next few days or weeks, and that I would be able to help her step out of her world of Mormonism and into the light. Reality, however, did not match up. I suggested that she take some time to do a little thinking and research, and that I would do the same, and that we get together for dinner the next day, both better prepared for the conversation. She initially agreed, but ended up cancelling our plans last minute. We rescheduled, and she cancelled again. A few times I have tried to subtly bring up Mormonism in conversation so we could segue into it, but she knew what I was doing and refused to take the bait.
Part of me wants to grab her by the neck and shake her, remind her that she was harboring serious doubts only a few weeks ago and that it's not healthy for her to just suppress those without really examining them. But part of me knows that leaving Mormonism is a personal journey, and one my friend will have to take almost entirely on her own. I hope that eventually she won't be willing to ignore those first pangs of doubt anymore. I hope she will be anxious to talk again, and that she knows that I'll be here to listen to her.
But until then I just have to wait.
Patiently.
And not push her.
Even though I really want to.
Patience.
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