I grew up in a broken home, my parents constantly fought, as a result, I remember spending a lot of time at my Grandmas. My parents finally divorced when I was in High School. I am the oldest of 5 (beautiful, smart, and awesome) girls, and the only child in my family to serve a mission. My sisters tease that I was "the perfect child", because I was the only return missionary. Shortly after my return, I would marry my first ex (1 of 3), in the temple, because that's what you do when you come home from your mission. I left him a couple years into our marriage, after he started showing signs of abuse. I felt like a failure. Soon I would meet my second ex, who I married, had a child with, and later would be sealed to. He would end up being abusive as well. I endured stalking, harassing, and other abuse that would lead to a protective order. I felt like an even bigger failure after my second attempt at an eternal marriage. I remain single for several years, content, until I met the Mormon man of my dreams. I did everything right. I fasted, and prayed. I felt that conformation that it was right, and we married in the Provo City Center Temple, for time and all eternity. We went to church every week together with our 3 children. He was the ward mission leader, and we fed the missionaries several times a week. We went to the temple together once a month. I was living the Mormon dream! I finally did it! For about 6 Months. Then he started drinking, and becoming violent. He would then spend several months in and out of rehab, with physical abuse happening while he was home from rehab. How did things go so wrong? I did everything right! Didn't I?
That’s when it happened. My shelf broke! My foundation was cracked, and my house of faith went crumbling down!
One dreadful night, while under the influence of alcohol, he assaulted me, and one of the children in the home. It was dreadful! My so called perfect Mormon husband was now in jail, and being charged with a felony. I cried. I felt more hopeless than I ever imagined possible. I felt I had not only failed to protect the children in my home, but I had failed at another attempt at an eternal marriage. This time more painful than the last 2, because I was sure this time I had it right. I knew what to do, I'd been here before. The children were no longer safe from this man, neither was I. I knew it was over. I found myself, once again, sitting in court, for yet another protective order, to a man that was my everything. I tried to do the right thing, and go to the temple, but that resulted in an unexpected anxiety attack. I quickly found myself not giving a shit about eternal marriage, or the temple. I fought it, telling myself if I tried harder, it would go away, but it kept building instead, and making it worse.
I’m not sure what finally made me let go. Maybe it was everyone that continued to ask me how my husband, who was in jail for assaulting me, was doing. Maybe it was the frustration I felt, when his records were still in my ward, after asking if they could be transferred out, and being told they were waiting for him to ask for them instead. Maybe it was a combination of things. I don't know, but it happened. I started questioning why I was still going to church.
I reached out to a couple of friends who I knew had left the church. I asked them questions, and they delivered. Down the rabbit hole I went. It all started with the gospel topic essays, I started to question why there were 3 different accounts of Joseph Smith's first vision. This is not what I learned growing up! That quickly lead to me listening to "The Year of Polygamy". I soon realized, it wasn't my childhood that had failed me all this time, It was my religion!
I became obsessed with polygamy! I was never taught that Joseph Smith had over 30 wives! I always assumed that polygamist only had a couple wives, and it was for bringing more children to the gospel. I certainly wasn't taught that some of these women were 14, already married, or that Joseph Smith would threaten women that an angel would destroy him, if they didn't marry him. I wasn't taught how angry Emma was at the idea of polygamy, and all his wives. She didn't sound like she was being treated as an equal partner in her marriage. I felt her pain. This was not the Joseph Smith I was taught about! This was a man that reminded me, in so many ways, of my past abusers. Manipulating, abusive, and sexist! I could not justify a God commanding a man to treat a woman in this manner. I quickly understood the pain and suffering I endured came from generations of this type of behavior being past down. I became angry at all the manipulation, abuse, and sexism that exists within the church! Women use to give blessings. Why didn't they anymore? Why weren't women able to hold the priesthood, or be in leadership positions like bishops and stake presidents? Why do women have to cover their shoulders and wear long shorts? Why do I need to veil my face? Why did I have to "cleave unto my husband"? Why are women encourages to be stay at home moms, instead of perusing careers? Why have I been taught my whole life to be subservient? The list goes on. This isn't equal, this is sexist!
At some point, I called my sister, and cautiously told her I was struggling. To my relief, I discovered, she was as well! This lead to the both of us diving further down the rabbit hole, but now together. We started listening to more podcast, we read the CES letter, at the same time, and more of the gospel topic essays. I was glad I wasn't alone on this painful journey. We called each other often to discuss our new finds. The rabbit hole got deeper and deeper.
I tried to make peace with all these new finds. I tried to tell myself I could still stay in the church. That didn't last. After reading the gospel topic essay,on how the Book of Abraham ISN'T a correct translation, my opinion changed. My whole life I had been taught this book was true, when in fact, it wasn't about Abraham at all, but a funeral?! Surely God would have known that when he was inspiring Josephs translation. I justified that there wasn't any evidence that supported the Book of Mormon, I wanted it to be true, so badly. But how could I believe the Book of Mormon was true, if the Book of Abraham was admittedly not?! How could I believe anything from Joseph Smiths mouth?
I questioned what was real. What did I really believe in? My house of faith that I worked so earnestly hard to build, was gone! I was finished. How could any of this be true? So many facts said other wise. I had spent years dedicated to a church I was sure, was the only true church on the planet. It was all a lie. I felt betrayed. The Book of Mormon, The Book of Abraham, polygamy, eternal marriage... Oh so many things! I sat on quitmormon.com, crying as I started the process to remove my records from the church.There was no way I could spend another minute being a part of something so fake! I mourned everything I had given to the church. I reached out to friends once again, as tears ran down my face, to comfort me. I gathered the strength I needed, and submitted my resignation. I knew that not only did I have support, but the people who love me, will love me regardless. I thought I would feel some sort of regret, but instead, I finally felt the peace and freedom I had been searching for. I could start all over again! And so my journey begins. Little by little I rebuild my house, I pick up little bits of things I find to be true, and I build. One step at a time. But this time I will be more cautious. This time I will build my foundation of rock, not sand.
