When I was 11, and walked into the LDS chapel for the first time, I felt like I was home. I felt such an overwhelming happiness and felt complete. It became my favorite place in the world. My happy place. Even lingering by the doors durring events, made me happy. You could *feel* that positive energy. That feeling became even more pronounced after I was baptized. And even when I fought tooth and nail going every sunday for 3 hours, that first hour was bliss. That chapel brought upon miracles in my life. Simple as that.

Primary was fun. Young Women's was fun, for the most part. It was nice being able to gather with girls I'd usually never would have known or even wanted to meet, (youthful judgment) and made some of the best friends an outsider could have.

By outsider I mean, yeah I dated before 16. And days I wasn't at church, you could see me in the mornings at my bus-stop sharing a cigarette or sneaking out late at night for a 6-pack of Zima. And the pot. Lots of pot. So yeah, I wasn't exactly "young women's" material.

Long story short in the middle, I moved out of my parents and stopped going to church. I didn't go for 10 years.

Finally, I caved. I went a few times. Two or three, I can't remember. But that last time changed how I see people in the church.

Had an awesome first hour in the chapel. They talked about being greatful, and how it benefits us in our daily lives. It was fantastic.

Second hour we go to Sunday School. I sit between my parents, still psyched over the grateful talk. Still happy. The teacher of the next hour starts his lesson about the "Armor of God". No big deal. Until he gets to what is "threatening" the church and it's members.

First, it was the LBGT's. We threaten the very lifestyle they are trying to promote. Trying to take away their right to worship how they see fit. Gays, shouldn't be tolerated, are hell bound, and have damaged souls.

(( I have never outright told my parents that I am bisexual. My Dad always hinted he knew while growing up, but it is something I would have never told my (step) Mom. In fact, no-one in the church knew, cause it wasn't their business. Not the ideal place to outright come out of my comfy closet. ))

So he, the teacher, breaks us into groups, to identify main threats to the Armor. I don't participate, I bite my tongue, cause I'm rather upset, but gonna hold my head high. I'm bi -- sure, but I am not damaged. First group goes into porn. Yeah, that is a threat. Good job. Second group goes on about the gays again. "Marriage is between a man and woman." "Democrats are trying so hard to push this on us."

Hold up.. what.the.actual.f**k.? This is church.

Then a man I have "known" since I was younger stands up and proclaims he's been replublican since 1969. He's always done this and never would he allow the shame of..blah blah blah. Why Blah? Cause I am seething at this point. But others are agreeing with him. Bashing LBGT's, Democrats, basically anyone who is outside of the Mormon faith. It's turning into a hate speech to me.

I turn to my Mom, and I tell her, "You know I'm bi, right? This is horrible." Cause here I am in a room that my parents are agreeing with, who are telling them not to accept their own daughter. She tells me I must be strong cause I don't act upon my feelings towards women. Not true. Just cause I am married to a man, doesn't mean *that* goes away. I still notice women, I still think about them in sexual ways. It doesn't up and vanish cause I have a ring on my finger and a husband.

So, I end up leaving in tears at the end of the hour. I feel broken. These people I had looked up to as a child, are hateful and judgemental.

How can I, someone who loves the chapel so much, not be welcome in my favorite place in the world?



Fast Forward to today:

Missionaries are over. They've been coming around since we moved to our apartment, trying to get me back. And each one, I have explained this story to them. How much it hurt, it still hurts. And that I don't want to be in a situation like that again.
The new Elder, Elder Ross, I tell him how I feel about the chapel. It was my happy place. And how it broke my heart that according to these people, I'm broken and damaged. Just cause I'm a little different. I've never blatantly displayed my sexuality at church. Even as a kid, I never told anyone, except the girls I would hold hands with and adore to the moon and back. And only then close friends knew. Hell, even my homophobic Best Friend knew.
They mentioned a home-teacher coming to see me. Nope, no one has come to see me. And I tell them not to come. He asks why.

It's simple, I'm not going to go to the place where I was told I and others like me are damaged. I was brought up to be tolerant of everyone. I was brought up better than that.

I tell them they're welcome to come back, but I doubt they will.

So thank you, room of small people, for damaging my faith beyond repair, and taking away my happy place. I'll pray for you when I light my candles in the moonlight and pray to my gods and goddesses, and send my postitive energies into the world.