Dear Mormon Me

If it wasn't ever about modesty, why did it have to be garments? There are SO many things that could have been a much more personal and applicable reminder of my covenants. They were designed to be undergarments for a reason.

Adding my thoughts and experiences to the garments and modesty discussion. Feel free to share your own. I only use more recent examples in my slides, since these were the words than affected me the most. But in my research, there was endless data here. And while language may have softened in recent years as we become more vocal about this conversation, that doesn't undo the harm and lingering effect these words have had. So, it is worth talking about.

Links to all these included sources can be found under the highlight "New Garments".

In the process of reevaluating my personal values and beliefs that comes along with deconstructing religion, I think I have discovered what truly matters the most to me.

Authenticity.

I believe our stories are what matter most. It’s what lingers after we’re gone. It’s what defines us and informs our actions.

What a gift to be able to tell my TRUE story.

The freedom to live authentically after stepping away from the predefined box created for me by a religion has been life changing.

I realize with this authenticity comes with the cost of clashing with loved ones and members who still hold strong to my former beliefs that I now publicly dissect and analyze. Having been a member for most of my life, I understand how it stings to see something so valuable and sacred seemingly misrepresented. I get why it can feel like an attack.

Which is why I try to add nuance and empathy when discussing these things. It’s tricky, I don’t always do a good job. But I’m trying. I accept the pushback and consequences that come with these hard discussions.

But I also feel that anything truly worth believing in is worthy of discussion. It should be able to withstand scrutiny.

So, today, I am sharing with you just a few thoughts about why I choose to authentically share my story and my thoughts about my former beliefs, even when I know it makes people uncomfortable.

And why I think it’s *heh* futile to try to get me to shut up.

Very few people have asked me why I left. I know they have their theories. I hear through the grapevine that people have said I’m an alcoholic now, or that I never really had a true testimony. That I was offended or Satan has tricked me into wanting to be part of the fads and fashions of the world.

I recently saw an LDS influencer mormonsplaining why people leave. Her reasons were grossly reductive, dismissive, and definitely the answers that would be written on the chalkboard during this discussion in Sunday school.

As people started to pile in the comments to explain why they ~actually~ left, the comments were turned off.

She had an audience ready to educate her about her misinformation when dictating their journey, and she chose silence. What a missed opportunity for her to listen and learn.

It is rare that even the closest of friends and family in the church care to actually understand why we leave. But they certainly have their theories and opinions.

I wonder why people opt to ignorantly assume over lovingly understanding?

Everyone’s journey in and out of the church is extremely unique. There isn’t a magic answer to why everyone leaves or stays. Postmos and members are not a monolith. To flash some oversimplified, low-hanging reasons people would “leave” the church over is exactly what creates the toxic culture and ignorance people in the church claim to hate so much.

My testimony was freaking solid. It was unshakable. I too excused the culture, racism, mistreatment of marginalized groups, problematic history, etc because i believed SO strongly in the gospel. It’s cringe to think we’d give up our faith in the one true church on the face of the earth so easily.

I can understand why believing members often avoid the conversation- because there is information out there that made me deconstruct my immovable faith in this church and that is scary. It was a painful, life changing awakening. It’s taken nearly a decade to unpack, and I’m still working through it.

In the spirit of education, let’s dismantle this toxic part of the culture. I want to hear all the very wrong answers that you’ve been told why you left the church.

We had our recommend taken from us for opting to pay the delivery bills for our son’s birth for a few months instead of our meager tithing offerings.

As our temple privileges were revoked, just as it had been much repeated in conference, were told we should pay our tithing first and then ask the church for what we need. I didn’t feel okay about that. But our bishop’s priesthood authority trumped our personal revelation.

Hearing how the church goes to great lengths to be so tricky and secret about its unbelievable wealth, well, it makes me a bit ill.

Being declared “unworthy” to enter the most holy house of the lord was one of the more traumatic moments of my life. It struck me to my very core. I was the most stalwart believer, and they judged me unworthy for not giving them enough money.

My husband and I held multiple high-demand callings at a time to support our struggling ward. I woke up at 4:30am to drive young women in our ward to early morning seminary by 5am. I volunteered my designs and illustrations for a website where i made handouts for weekly church lessons. We gave our time, talents, money, energy, and mind to supporting this church any way we reasonably could. And yet we were unworthy.

We were declared “unworthy” because we couldn’t afford to give them a few hundred dollars. Meanwhile the church is quietly investing in companies that own Coke, Apple, and Victoria’s Secret, amassing ridiculous amounts of wealth and they are the 5th largest land owner in the US. Where’s their accountability?

Should the church be held to this same standard of scrutiny around their own earnings? Do they pay 10% of their income to charity? Who do they declare that to? Why are we expected to give so generously and then we aren’t even allowed to know what becomes of these tithes? Why is the church so secret about their financial dealings? What are they trying to hide? What is the church’s worthiness status based on?

When does the church get their recommend taken away?

If there’s one concept the church heavily emphasizes, it’s agency. Our God-given gift to choose, whether it be right or wrong.

So they say.

One thing that stepping away from my church has allowed me to do is reflect on my life without the fear that comes along with questioning my faith. Asking questions while still trying to maintain my faith definitely hindered my ability to consider anything that might harm my testimony. I actively avoided it.

Not anymore.

Free from the confines of the religion I was assigned at birth,

I can now reflect.

This is my story. These were just my choices. There are so many more choices others are expected to make beyond the ones I mention here. These choices impact us all in unique ways.

If agency is as important as the church makes it out to be, then just as important is understanding why we make those choices. And how important informed consent is when making them.

I recognize that others who have made these choices have had a very different experience than mine. I also understand how seeing sacred things being spoken of like this can be upsetting. I try to maintain respect when discussing these tricky subjects. But part of reclaiming my authority is allowing myself to tell my whole story, and those things are part of it.

Telling my story is an empowering choice I have made.

Brace yourselves. It appears the Utah Area LDS leaders are putting out another call to invite people to Christmas Sunday service. The directive is to invite 125 people to the ward’s Christmas Service.

So, I totally get it. I sat in the church meetings and councils where specific families and names were mentioned. We talked endlessly about missionary opportunities and how we can bring people into the Gospel. We saw it as a loving gesture to keep these wandering souls in our hearts.

Now I’m on those lists. Now my name comes up in ward council and my children’s eternal salvations are prayed for. Now WE are the invited.

But the interesting thing is- all these people who invite me, strangers who who show up at my door, or send these texts, who pray for me weekly, have no idea WHY I’m not at church.

They’ve never asked why we don’t come. But they seem real motivated to get me back.

Who is this invite really for? What are they getting out of asking me? Do they understand that I am very much aware that I am but a number amongst the 125 they have been pressured to reach out to? Ouch.

It’s hard for both of us. I can sense the uncomfortable tension as these visits and calls come in. We smile and play a polite game, feigning ignorance of the fact that we’re both aware of what the other is really thinking.

And then they are relieved as they check me off the list. And I feel ostracized and misunderstood yet again as my community continues to avoid me throughout the rest of the year until that checklist pops up again and these awkward, inorganic encounters commence yet again. I would absolutely love to be their friend. Their association with the church makes me hard to trust their intentions. Because I sat in those meetings, I know. They are at my door because my name is on a list.

So I ask- if you don’t even know why I’m not at church, how could you possibly know how to get me to come back?

I ask again- Who is this invitation really for?