I would like to share my story of leaving the LDS church. Perhaps it will help me leave it behind.

I grew up in Orem, Utah. Just a fifteen minute drive away from BYU. My paternal grandparents are proud that they are the ancestors of John Taylor. I learned later that we are the ancestors of one of John Taylor’s wives. In my mind, not really his ancestors. But that doesn’t matter. I grew up with parents who constantly told me that I could do and be whatever I wanted to be. As long as I ended up getting married and being a house wife. I remained terribly confused throughout high school and college about this mixed message. I would ask them if they really believed I could be or do anything, and they would say yes. But, I learned in church and from them that women should not have careers. Wanting a career is a selfish thing, they told me. Being a mother is what God wants me to be, that’s what I was taught. But I always wanted to have a career, and I felt so ashamed for wanting that. I remember praying to God to make me want to be a mother, just a mother. I asked God to take away my desire for a career. But it didn’t go away.

I took six years to graduate from college. I wanted to stay in college, and continue learning. I knew that once I had graduated, my parents would expect me to get married. The longer I held off, the more disappointed they would be. And once I got married, I knew that I would be expected to have children. Don’t get me wrong. It’s not that I have anything against marriage, children, or women staying at home with kids. What I do have a problem with is feeling ashamed for the things that I wanted. And, I think that I would have wanted marriage and kids at some point anyway. Again, I mean no offense to anyone who chooses that path. It is not the path that matters, but the choice.

At the end of fall semester in my final year of college, I was desperate. I wanted to escape. I knew I would graduate and things would change. I had developed a crush on a professor I had. It’s incredibly embarrassing, but I made a complete fool out of myself by asking him out. He said no, of course, for ethical reasons, and also because I think he was a good man and could see that I was having a difficult time. He was very mature about it. He was much older than me. I know now that I was looking for a father figure, and for an escape from the LDS church. He was mature, not like my own father. And, he actually believed in me as a student. My senior year was a bit of a disaster. I graduated, but I had convinced myself that I was manic-depressive and was taking medication. Around March of my final semester, I left the LDS church. I wrote a letter formally requesting for my records to be removed. I had heard from other people that the church had given them a hard time about removing their records, so I wrote a very professional but forceful email to my ex-bishop in my student ward and told him I wanted my records removed. He had them removed, and I received a letter in the mail telling me that my records had been erased. Things deteriorated from there. My roommate and good friend was angry at me for leaving. She didn’t understand. I hadn’t read anything written about the church by non-members, but I tried to give her reasons. But I left because it made me feel worthless. I would go to church every week and be constantly reminded that I was not feminine enough, not good enough.

My roommate and I had a falling out. She sent me some crazy texts, and she actually got sick over the things I told her (I did do some reading about Joseph Smith and also spoke to a few other ex-mormons). I ended up moving out of the apartment and got my own place for awhile. During that time, I read The God Delusion, tried alcohol, and had sex for the first time. Yes, I was actually a very strait-laced member and had followed all the rules, up until the point that I left. When I had sex for the first time, my sister found out. She knew that I had been dating someone, and I went over to her house to pick up something my Mom had dropped off for me. She asked me how my date had gone, and I guess my response was very telling. “Did you have sex?” she asked me. I was horrified that she knew. I told her not to tell anyone, but she of course told my parents. The next time I visited my parents house, my father sat me down and started talking to me about sex and how it damages your soul if you do it outside of marriage. I was so angry, but of course, I just stood up and said ok and walked out. I went home and then called back and spoke to my Mom. I told her that if Dad ever tried to tell me how to live my life again that I would no longer speak to him or her, and that our relationship would be over. I never spoke to him about it.

When I saw my father after that, he was very weird. Like something had snapped in him. Over the past few years, it has gotten a little better. But I realized that I have never talked openly with him. Unfortunately, I don’t believe I ever will.

Over the next few years, I hid from most people the fact that I had left. When I saw friends from high school, I didn’t say anything. I actually haven’t even told my best friend yet, who lives across the country. The most difficult part of leaving for me was leaving behind my entire social life. My social existence was built around the LDS church, and it collapsed when I left.

It has been four years since I left. I am still haunted by my past, but my haunting no longer comes from the Mormon church. It comes from the way I was raised. My biggest complaint against the Mormon church is the culture it creates. Mormon doctrine teaches people that God is a deified human. As such, humans are supposed to work hard to become perfect. As anyone who thinks about it knows, no one is perfect. In fact, I would argue that the defining feature of humans is our fallibility. But my family and the people around me growing up, including myself, all have guilt complexes because we are imperfect. And as a Mormon, I actually believed that the twelve apostles and the prophet were close to perfect. I know now that nothing could be further from the truth. I believe that their obsession with perfection is psychologically damaging for people. Not for everyone, perhaps, but for many people. I am still dealing with the baggage of that belief. I guess everyone has baggage of some kind, though, and my baggage isn’t special. I just don’t know how to fully shake it off and walk free. It’s four years later and I still feel bound psychologically. I hope it gets better.

I learned from my now husband (not Mormon, but a non-denominational and unorthodox Christian) about the trinity. Learning the Christian conception of God made me realize how different Mormon beliefs are from mainstream Christianity. And I am more comfortable with the Christian idea of God. I’m still very wary about religion though, and I think that wariness will stay with me all my life.

Thanks for those who shared their experiences in this forum. Here’s mine for anyone who’s interested.