Dear Eric,
I'm so glad you wrote, because much of the reason I was able to be honest with myself and now my family is because of your web site. I know you've heard this more times than you can count, but I can't thank you enough. You were called to a mission, and that mission was to help those of us who were dying a little inside every day, to find that we weren't alone in our feelings about the church and our desire to break away. This call didn't come from God, but from inside your loving and caring soul, and I bless you a million times for it.
I know I have a long haul ahead of me. I will be living with a believing husband, a bunch of kids who will be conflicted about what Mom has done and a branch full of people who thought I was one of them. Some of them are good friends. I don't know what will happen, but I'm ready. I'm not afraid to show what I really believe any more.
Last night I told my husband that the church has robbed me of my self confidence. I didn't even realize that until I was saying the words out loud. I felt for 20 years that I wasn't good enough, faithful enough, obedient enough, prayerful enough and on and on. The one thing I hope to regain from this is my self-confidence. I want to feel the power of my own spirit soar through knowing that I, and only I, know what's best for me. Thank you so much again. You are my hero.
Dear Eric,
Thank you so much for your web site. Tonight, I stumbled across your site, so instead of working as I planned, I read about a third of your "Why I Left" stories. Now I guess I have honored the Sabbath in my own way.
My story is a familiar one: child of converts, baptized at 8, wanted to believe, wanted to believe, wanted to believe. My parents are a stereotypical in that they are deep thinkers and not crowd followers. They sincerely believe that Mormonism is the truth, and the only truth (I think). They were loving, nurturing and not abusive. Unfortunately, or fortunately, they also advocated thinking for oneself.
I kept hoping that the next big event would be the one that struck the golden chord and brought my testimony forth: baptism, confirmation, baptism for the dead, patriarchal blessing. Every one left me progressively emptier, probably because I expected too much. I remember sitting in the temple looking at the 12 golden oxen under the baptismal font, wearing this enormous baggy suit (white of course) and thinking, "I wonder why I can't feel anything?" I thought there was something wrong with me, since everyone else seemed to have been awarded the testimony medal. I bore my testimony a couple of times and I felt terrible because I was lying.
I'm an overthinker-scientist type, and I began questioning some teachings of the church when I was about 15. I wasn't trying to discredit the church. I just wanted to see where everything fit. Because of that, some people in our ward treated me like the next Antichrist. (They also disliked me for not wanting to get their Suzie Homemaker jewels-- I forget what that program was called-- because I was too busy editing the literary magazine at school.)
I wondered why they were so defensive. I also wondered why my soul was so full of holes that I couldn't see the truth. That last sentence is a relatively calm way of describing a period of anguish and doubt that lasted about 12 years.
I became inactive when I was 18. I had a boyfriend and other friends who were not Mormon, and who were into many things not advocated by the church. I started breaking the rules, beginning by drinking Dr. Pepper and ending with sex and drugs. (See, there is a domino effect). Eventually, I got my life together, started a business, went to school (now close to a doctorate), all the while building some self-esteem from pretty much zip.
When I left the church, I believed exactly what they tell you: that because I "sinned", *of course* I couldn't have a testimony. It took me a long time to realize that I started "sinning" because I was so desperately looking for something to fill the gap left by the promises of the church. Some may find that a convenient fiction, but actually, the "easy" thing for me to believe was the church's teachings. It took a great deal of soul-searching, honesty and tears to figure out what had happened to me.
I've only recently felt ready to deal with the spiritual side of life. Five years ago, I wouldn't trust myself to approach it, because I was afraid that even touching the subject of a higher power would activate the vacuum cleaner of Mormonism and I'd get sucked back in.
I know some good Mormons and I believe the church does some good things. I also believe it does some bad things. My mother had a nervous breakdown when I was very young, due in large part to the cliquish nature of our ward and her exclusion from sympathetic human contact at a vulnerable time in her life. Yes, I know, this is a "people problem" and not a church problem, but I really find it hard to respect an organization that allows such behavior while ostracizing good people who drink coffee.
My name is still on the rolls of the church, mainly because I've not gotten around to taking it off. A Mormon friend recently broached the question of my membership. I still have the nagging doubt-- what if they're right? I thought for a brief moment-- why not stay in and cover all the bases? Then came the image of my daughter: her angel face, her sweet, unburdened soul; and with her picture came this thought, fully formed and unbidden: I would rather rot in the lowest dungeons of the Telestial Kingdom than have her go through what I did.
I'll take the chance. It is nice to know there are others taking it with me.
Hello,
I stumbled upon your site today and was astonished at the sheer volume of information you offer; I will definitely return to read more, and in more depth.
I dated a Mormon during high school. I was raised Catholic, which didn't sit well with the boy's family (especially his mother, who was a convert to Mormonism -- his dad's family had been Mormon for years), and eventually the family started sending missionaries to my house.
My dad had always liked the Church of LDS' TV commercials, and had toyed with the idea of investigating, so at first he welcomed the pair of young elders into our home. My parents and sister & I (along with the boy I was dating, who I'll call "Paul") would sit with the elders one night a week & receive a lesson. Once, a few days after a lesson, the elders baked brownies for us and left them on our doorstep -- "how thoughtful," we thought. However, after another meeting, more brownies arrived with a note: "This time, the brownies aren't 'free' -- you must read the following" and there followed a list of passages from the BoM that they'd assigned to us for the next meeting. We were taken aback -- it just seemed spooky. Soon after that, the missionaries asked us to schedule our baptism. We beat a hasty retreat. My dad got the missionaries to stop coming.
I did other "Mormony" things with Paul, though. I went to a Fireside, where we heard testimony from a beauty queen. I took Mormon Communion, which seemed oddly communal & informal when compared with the ultra-formal Catholic communion I was used to. I went to some kind of "young singles" night he hosted at his home (by that time, I'd befriended a Mormon girl at my after-school job, and she was there too. I remember we all watched the Cher movie "Moonstruck," and that I seemed to be the only one laughing at it -- it was like the Mormon kids weren't even getting the jokes) And, through getting to know Paul & his family (6 kids in that family) I put together an idea of what Mormonism was like on a daily level. Paul's family life reminded me of something my mom says sometimes: "A little religion is a good thing, but a lot of religion...makes you weird." Prosaic, yes. But I've always found it to be true.
Paul's family moved away after we graduated high school. I was extremely upset about it for months before and after the move, since Paul meant a great deal to me. A previous high school boyfriend had abused me, so I craved Paul's serenity and strength and his (apparent) faith in God-and-the-general-wonderfulness-of life. As a graduation/goodbye gift, he gave me a gold ring with a note saying that our lives are a circle, and that we would meet again. The ring pleased me greatly, since at that time, I was still entertaining fantasies about marrying him, while somehow keeping myself apart from all things Mormon. Fortunately for everyone, I dismissed the entire notion shorly after starting college.
Paul went on a mission before he ever even applied to BYU (I thought -- how can you put off COLLEGE to go do CHURCH WORK?) Halfway through BYU, he met a girl and married her within six months, and they had their first child within 9 or 10 months of being married. Paul & his wife are now approximately 29 and 25 years old, respectively. They graduated from BYU in December, and also had their third child in December. They are both talking about going to graduate school -- which, to my mind, means putting off getting "real jobs" for several more years! I have no idea how they can possibly make ends meet, financially. A "normal" person in this situation would freak out, but Paul's occasional letters & phone calls to me are blissful as ever -- he's as brainwashed as ever. He always seems so completely happy -- perhaps he is! But we all know "ignorance is bliss."
Again, thanks for your site. It has already given me much insight into my friend Paul, and into a way of life, which I thankfully avoided. I look forward to learning even more on subsequent visits.
Thank you for working so diligently to maintain this web site. If you don't mind, I'd like to share a little with you. My husband and I are "new members" to the church (we were baptized Sept. 14, 1997). It has been a struggle in the last 7-8 months (since May, 1998) to do and be "Mormon enough" to keep down the guilt. I read a lot of the stories on the page and was surprised no one else mentioned guilt. I felt guilty to listen to the music we have collected--over 300 CDs because I knew a lot of it (like the Stones and the Knack) wasn't exactly the "kind of music you would play in Sacrament"...I felt guilty to miss church, I felt guilty to miss a "split" (when members go with the missionaries to knock on doors or give discussions to "investigators")...I felt guilty to not give the 12-15 hours a week to our calling (Stake Missionaries) that we were supposed to give. I felt guilty to not tithe. I felt guilty because I never bore my testimony and it's expected--especially to get a temple recommend. I felt guilty that we were not worthy to go to the temple (because of tithing) and I felt it was MY FAULT that we would not see the fullness of joy because of me. My husband and I struggled with the notion of discontinuing our relationship with the church--becoming inactive!--after I finished reading The Tenth Insight (by the guy, is it Redfield or something like that?, who wrote the Celestine Prophecy...) anyway, that book is about getting rid of FEAR and it hit me like a rock--I was AFRAID to NOT go to church, I was AFRAID to not be Mormon enough, I was AFRAID of God. (Guess what, if there's fear, it's for the wrong reason!!) I realized that if God was really "my father" and wanted me to have a close relationship with him, that meant he didn't want me to be AFRAID!! What a revelation!
We didn't have many of the experiences the contributors to your page were unfortunate enough to have. That is not to say we didn't encounter great bouts of skepticism Sunday after church through Saturday night before Church the following week, but perhaps because we were so new, we chalked it up to our own shortcomings and lack of faith. This has been a very painful process--denying the "only true church" and wondering if going to "the telestial kingdom" was going to be anything like HELL, but then decided it was worth it to be rid of Guilt and Fear!
We did encounter one thing from the missionaries early on in our Mormon career that still makes us smile :) after Mother Theresa died, we asked the missionaries what the church believed would happen to her soul (spirit prison or paradise) and we were SHOCKED to learn that someone as selfless and CHRISTLIKE as Mother Theresa would be asked to recant some things and affirm others in order to receive her place in the celestial kingdom. Well, I'm here to tell you I think that is the biggest bunch of BullSht I have EVER encountered and WOE on anyone in the TRUE CHURCH who would believe and further spread that line!! (It's really interesting how missionaries decide to not follow and practice one of the most key teachings--Thou shall not JUDGE) but we encountered it over and over, she can't be baptized because she hasn't repented enough, etc. It was horrible.
Once again, thank you!
My life has been similar to yours so far. I served as a missionary in the Philippines where I had great success, 1969-1971, convincing people there of "God's gospel." Those people I dearly love to this day. Probably 80 or more of those I taught ended up joining the church.
Upon the successful completion of that mission I attended BYU. Now, almost 30 years later, I am thoroughly convinced that Mormonism is not what it claims to be. I have not attended church for about 12 years, and have never been happier. My children are good, well rounded, intelligent, straight-A-student children who live in Utah surrounded by those who wonder why they don't follow the local mold when their father is a returned missionary.
I did not leave the church so that I could "sin," or because I did sin. I left it because it is not true. I have not asked for excommunication because I do not recognize the authority of the clergy, so excommunication would be meaningless.
Last month, January, a member of the bishopric called to invite me to come in for tithing settlement. I suppose he didn't want me to miss out on the opportunity for the promised blessing. I told him that "I have no belief in Mormonism whatsoever." I could tell that he was kind of shocked by my saying that. He said he would pass that on, and I said okay.
I currently think that all religions are man made, and it is likely that we all did evolve from the ocean. I do, however believe in God. God is Mother Nature, and when we die, we return to her and that is the end.
This is not sad to me. It only means that we should do our best now because it may be all there is. Finding the truth is not by falling on your knees and closing your eyes. My eyes are wide open now like never before.
I know other returned missionaries here in Utah, who have arrived at similar conclusions. It is nice to know that others have found satisfaction and happiness in acknowledging the common sense of reason.