Hello! I posted this whole rant on the other board when it was best placed on this one... Oops!
I've found this website a few months back, and I'm really glad I did. I'm even more glad now that I've summoned the courage to share my own story. It's kind of a long one, I'm sorry!
I am a 30-year-old BIC, and I officially stopped attending TSCC when I was 16 years old, although I hadn't really believed in it since I was 9, maybe 10 years old. I was even younger than that when I was faced with my very first subject of questioning... Dinosaurs.
As a very young child, I was what most would consider a "Tomboy". I preferred TMNT to Barbie, loved catching bugs and lizards, and had an insatiable fascination with anything prehistoric. Needless to say, it wasn't long before I began to notice "differences" between church teachings, and the education I received from any other source. I remember being in 2nd grade, and discussing dinosaurs with my BIC best friend. He explained to me that there weren't really dinosaurs. Bones and fossils were placed there by scientists who want to cover up the truth of the church. Or so he said. A Sunday school teacher confirmed this when I asked, except that she said they were reassembled bones of large animals and maybe pigs. I just couldn't wrap my mind around that everything I learned in school, educational books, documentaries, and after school tutoring programs concerning dinosaurs was a lie. I didn't buy it. Thus came those first inklings of doubt.
I also remember sitting in sacrament meetings, looking around, and noticing how "automatic" everything seemed. Everyone singing in a monotone voice during hymns... Sometimes they'd switch it up and have everyone STAND and sing their monotone hymns. I was always a bit of a shy and introverted kid, so church meetings tended to be kind of tough on me. My parents never forced me to bear my testimony, but they did encourage it. I have no memory of ever bearing my testimony, but my parents could have done the whole whisper-in-their-toddler's-ear thing for all I know. Regardless of never being forced to bear my testimony, I still faced those feelings of shame when I was sometimes asked about my unwillingness to participate. I never really had a brilliant answer for this, for fear of embarrassing my parents. I wanted to simply say "I just don't want to". Really, I just didn't want to. I didn't have much of a testimony, anyway. I didn't want to volunteer for prayer or scripture reading, or anything church related. My heart just wasn't in it.
By the time I was 9, I was already having some anxieties about attending. One reason was that I was starting have issues with shaky hands. Picking up the tiny water cups was becoming a humiliating problem. My hands were so shaky that most of the water would spill out onto my lap before the cup could touch my lips. I'm not sure what it was; the fact that my hands were really THAT shaky, or if it was just a reaction from high anxiety levels. Whatever it was, as I got older, I had to come up with different ways to avoid the dreaded sacramental water. Trying to make my parents 20 minutes late to sacrament meeting, having to "go to the bathroom" right before they blessed the sacrament, going to the car and just sitting in it for a while... It didn't take long to run out of reasons to disappear for 15 minutes.
There was no talking to my seemingly TBM (now MINO) parents. The fact that I had anxiety in church was MY problem. I should be enjoying going to church. Apparently, my problem was I needed a different mindset. Something must be wrong with me if I'm not feeling the peace and love of the Spirit when I'm at church.
Things got really bad when I was around the age of 13 or 14, and the pressure was on for me to participate in "Baptisms for the Dead". I wanted no part in it whatsoever. Not only was the concept itself genuinely creepy, I had to go do it with a busload of kids from the church who I wasn't really good friends with. I just didn't want to go. Of course, when I protested, on came the shrill, guilt-soaked tantrum about how disappointed my brother Jesus is in me, and how good and virtuous all my TBM cousins are.
It's true. My 2 older brothers and I are considered the "black sheep" on my father's TBM side of the family. And I mean REALLY TBM. If I understand correctly, his side of the family has significance in Mormon history, and has a strong presence in Utah and Arizona. My cousins (and their parents) are the epitome of "perfect". Very tight-knit, active (in church AND life), successful, attractive... Everything our parents wanted us to be. They even married wonderful and successful people. This is, of course, what every parent wants. Thing is, in our case, things were a bit dysfunctional.
There wasn't much "togetherness" in our family with the exception of a drama-filled family vacation once every few years. Both of my brothers fell away from TSCC at a young age, and this caused a great deal of strife in the family that I witnessed from a very young age. This, on top of one of my brothers having serious rage issues seemed to exacerbate things. There would be no discussion about any reservations about the church. If we tried, it would be met with rage. If my anger-filled brother tried, it would be rage vs. rage. Basically, I learned to never approach my parents with questions about the church.
My parents themselves have a bit of a confusing relationship with TSCC. When we were all young and still attending, they were strict about some things, but pretty lax on others. For example, keeping the Sabbath holy wasn't a big issue. They used the day to do all the leisurely activities they wanted, and plenty of business was taken care of as well.
At the same time, they absolutely HATED hearing swearing or the Lord's name used in vain. My father would scold us if he found us listening to or watching vulgarity, but my mother didn't pay it too much heed. We could get away with certain caffeinated beverages as well! Coffee was a big no-no until Starbucks came up in popularity (even wanted me to take a job there), and Coca-Cola and Mountain Dew were always okay.
But we absolutely HAD to attend church every Sunday, mutual every Wednesday, seminary every weekday morning, and everything in between. This brings me back to the whole "Baptisms for the Dead" fiasco. Like I mentioned before, the YW were going to the Oakland temple for the BFTD ceremony, and I had decided that I didn't want to go. Even though I had told her a few times that my interest in the church had ebbed, she still reacted with shock and anger when informed her that I had no intention of going to get baptized for anyone. She lost it, threw some hurtful words at me, basically likening me to a heathen, how Satan's got a hold on me, how I've broken Jesus' heart, and how spiritual my cousins are for being such diligent active members of the church. It didn't matter that I was a talented artist, or that I was a great writer who excelled in my English/Literature classes. It didn't matter that I was fascinated with archaeology and astronomy, and that I have a huge soft spot for animals. None of it matters if I'm not an active member of the church. When my father got home, more tempers flared, and I realized that the only way I could achieve any peace was to just go with it. I gave in, got my temple recommend (I had to lie during questioning, because I feared what might happen if I failed), and went with the rest of the YW on their temple trip. A part of me was fascinated to see the inside of the temple, but I was mostly seething at being forced into participating in such a ceremony.
Things came to a dreadful turn for the worst one Sunday morning when I was 16. Another heated argument with my mother concerning TSCC ended up being just too much for me and I attempted ending my own life. I think that being prescribed both Adderall and Zoloft played a key role in that rash decision. My parents were, of course, rattled. It was almost like they were in disbelief that TSCC could cause so much pain. During my stay at the hospital, I was visited and blessed and prayed for by several church members who heard about what happened. While I'm sure it was meant to be thoughtful, I found it pretty uncomfortable considering my reasons for what I did. Lord knows, it was probably announced in sacrament meeting.
I started seeing a therapist after my incident, and my parents appeared to back off from their insistence of my attendance. I did not, however, expect them to completely stop going to church themselves.
I didn't know whether to be grateful or dumbfounded.
My father, a TBM from a strong, long line of TBMs, and my mother who converted from Catholicism as a young teen, both just stopped going when I insisted I was no longer going to go. I admit that I felt pretty guilty about rattling their faith, but I didn't want to bring it up for the longest time for fear of opening a can of worms that I would find was best left shut.
After high school, I attended college where I met a fellow apostate "Greg" who I ended up marrying. He had 2 very TBM parents, and several siblings, some TBM, some not so much. He also had a very painful upbringing regarding his parents (primarily his mother). This lady was something else. She was so far into TSCC, that I honestly think she would have no qualms with killing someone so long as TSCC says it should be so. One of my first encounters with her involved her discovering that I was raised Mormon. She asks me why, if I'm Mormon, am I not dating an RM. I say something along the lines of "because Greg isn't an RM" or something like that. She got huffy and says "Well, I think you're BOTH settling for less than your best." and stormed away to her room. This woman was a piece of work. The whole time we dated, she tried to get us to break up and get Greg back to church. She wouldn't hesitate in telling me whenever she brought home girls from the church that were around his age for him to meet. When she and I flew to Chicago to attend his bootcamp graduation, she got angry with me for putting on makeup, drove me to the bad side of town and abandoned me there. Greg met me at a nearby train station, where we had to take a cab back to the hotel room because his mother turned off her phone, was nowhere to be found, and she was the one with the rental car. She once took a job as a teacher at a Catholic school so she could infiltrate their teachings with Mormon ones. Needless to say, she was removed from the post quickly. These are just a few examples of what I experienced with this woman.
It seemed I had no luck with Mormon parental figures.
After Greg and I married moved to another state, even though neither of us had attended TSCC in several years, we started getting several calls/visits/letters from the local church inviting us to service. After declining several times, their persistence eventually died off.... For a while. Fast forward to when Greg leaves for a short deployment. Not even a couple of days after he leaves, I start getting contacted by a YW from the local ward "Katie", inviting me to come to church. I just straight up ignore her from the get-go. That only seemed to fuel her fire. Luckily for me, I was never home whenever she showed up at the house, but I always received the gifts and letters she left on my doorstep. She tried calling me a couple times a day, leaving messages that she wants to invite me to church and that she wants to be my friend. Sorry, I'm just not all that comfortable with hanging out with someone who I don't know, who I've never even met, who just started contacting me out of the blue after my husband leaves town. After weeks of this, her voice in her VMs starts getting more frustrated, and one day leaves me a letter on my door, chewing me out for ignoring her just because of her beliefs when she just wanted to be my friend... My God, I've never even met this woman. I block her number and try to forget about it. I didn't hear from her again until after Greg got back, and we took a trip back to our hometown. While we were there, I get a call from a number from Arizona. I pick it up, and who is it? F--king KATIE! Talking to me in the most pissed off voice imaginable. I hung up, made a beeline straight for the nearest Verizon store where they changed my number free of charge due to the change being by reason of harassment.
That was the last I heard of Katie.
Since then, Greg and I have divorced, and I moved back to my hometown.
With all that has transpired, as it stands now, I have ended up Agnostic. My fiance, although he believes in a God and once was a Pentecostal before converting to Baptism, no longer considers himself "Christian" these days in the sense that he detests religion.
Today, even though they haven't attended church in over 15 years, my father still claims to believe in the BoM, and my mother, who doesn't seem to know what she believes in, still defends TSCC vehemently. When I try to bring up my findings of the church, and the truth about the church's deceptive, violent and bigoted beginnings, she will still lose her temper with me to this day. I'm baffled. I had asked her why she and Dad hadn't attended church in a decade and a half. Her weak excuse is that "we just don't have the time." IN FIFTEEN YEARS??? The craziest part, is that later in the SAME conversation, she says that she "would go to church if I would go with her..." Okay, so you'll magically find the time to go to church only if I go with you. Right...
My parents are officially MINOs these days, yet they will guilt and shame me just as much as they did back when they were still active. My mother's new favorite insult to sling at me when I speak against Mormonism is "Atheist". Because you know, if you're not Mormon, you're automatically Atheist.
And that's where I am today. All I want is a real, loving, normal relationship with my parents, and even though they themselves are no longer active members of the church, they seem to be stuck in this strange denial... I can't put my finger on what the malfunction is there.

Sorry about the length of my post... Just wanted to get my story out there.



Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 11/14/2014 06:32PM by starr77.