Eric's note: Kristen posted this to our e-mail group in May of 1999. She wrote it with the request that it be added to the stories on the web site. All of us who have been with exmormon.org appreciate Kristen. She was one of the organizers for X'99 we held in Las Vegas earlier this year (1999). I like her analogy at the end of her story where she uses coats of paint that have to be removed to find the unique individual underneath after years of programming by the Mormon church.

In February of 1997, I found myself in Las Vegas for my first (and the first)ex-Mormon convention-a mere one month after I had found Eric's web site and joined the E-mail lists. Upon arrival I knew just one person. Upon departure, I had made over 50 new friends and countless memories. I don't think there was anyone else that didn't feel the same way

Two years and another convention (X98) later, I find myself counting the weeks and days until "X99". By now I have met at least 150 ex-Mormons in person-all of whom I count among my friends, many of them like family.

Someday, when the time is right, I would like to detail my exit from Mormonism even further. That's assuming I could ever write enough to fully explain the experience because I worry that I never could. For now, the short version will have to do...

Secret Ceremonies by Deborah Laake caught my eye there on the bottom shelf of the Mormonism section in the Orem (Utah) Public Library during the summer of 1994. At age 21, I was thoroughly indoctrinated by the religion I had been born and raised in-Mormonism-and had moved from the Midwest to Happy Valley, Zion (that's Utah to you gentiles!) two years earlier.

I already knew the book was bad news. Laake had been featured on Donahue that same year and most of Utah was abuzz with their astonishment and disgust that she would reveal the sacred (and secret)Mormon temple ceremonies to the world. What I didn't know is how that book would change my life

I was nervous, but I was more curious than I was nervous so I picked it up. Not that I checked it out, however. I wasn't about to risk being seen checking out a known anti-Mormon book in a city predominantly (as in 90%) LDS. Instead, I parked myself on the floor of that very aisle and inconspicuously read as much as possible in the next three hours before the library closed

There is no way to describe with words the way that I felt when I left for home. Words like shock, horror, disappointment, sadness, fear, anxiety, confusion, and hurt come to mind....and they all come close, but somehow not close enough. For all of the loose-lipped people there must be in a church of over 10 million members, it still amazes me that word doesn't get out to pre-temple-going Mormons as to what really happens inside. But it doesn't. Had I ever taken out my own endowments, I am certain that nothing would have prepared me for what I learned in Laake's book.

I was a believer. I read the Book of Mormon, I prayed with sincerity, I cried through bearing my testimony. I never even considered that life could be any different, or that Mormonism was a fabrication perpetuated by power, money and a human desire to have more answers and not more questions. At least not until my trip to the library

I didn't share my questions or concerns with anyone. I didn't know what kind of punishment came to those that acquired top-secret information like the temple ceremonies, let along talked about it, but I figured it had to be pretty harsh. Something along the lines of hell, fire & damnation, no doubt.

Instead, I decided to pray. What I came away with was a definite feeling that God would never do anything to hurt me, and that appeased me, even if it didn't completely satisfy me.

Once I had convinced myself that my discomfort with the temple was only because I lacked faith and understanding of God's plan, I continued life almost as normal. I say "almost" because this trigger was all I needed to realize that it might be possible for the church to have faults. Imagine that.

That possibility rolled around in the back of my mind for the next two and a half years as I continued to be very active in my ward and even met with my bishop occasionally to talk about some of my doubts, although I never mentioned the temple ceremonies. (Hell, fire & damnation, you know.)

1997 was a brand new year when I was defending Mormonism on an unrelated E-mail list. A woman on the list wrote to me privately saying that she had once been a Mormon, was no longer a believer, and suggested I visited the web site that now holds the URL of www.exmormon.org. (Ironically, she later returned to the church.)

Eric's web site and the (then) 50+ stories fascinated me and kept me reading until 3:00 am for at least three days. A few days later I joined the exmormon E-mail list and the rest, as they say, is history

The two biggest surprises were that, first, other people had doubts too. Not only did they have doubts, but they doubted for different reasons, in different circumstances, at different times in their lives and later had the courage to follow their own hearts and minds instead of being ruled with the fear they had been indoctrinated with.

It is a myth that those who leave "the fold" do so out of ignorance, offense or iniquity. I have found just the opposite. There are as many valid reasons to leave this cult as there are Mormons in Utah County

Second, I was surprised to realize just how little I knew about the very church I was raised in and its history. It wasn't as if the information wasn't available, it just wasn't talked about. It wasn't necessary to salvation and therefore a non-issue. From birth to adulthood, you're given a lot of individual puzzle pieces in Mormonism. Some link together, some don't. The half-assembled project on your kitchen table is never done, but it doesn't worry you. "God will give you the answers in His own due time," you're told.

What you're not told is that the missing pieces are everywhere, only you don't know it. Nor do you know where to look for them. Meanwhile, church authorities are constantly one step ahead of you...sweeping puzzle pieces under the rug, behind the couch and into the First Presidency Vault

The exmormon E-mail lists were heaven sent (if you'll pardon the pun). Here was a group of 200+ individuals with a background in Mormonism and an eye to the future without it. Disagreement, discussion and differing ideas were welcome. Most important of all, I felt safe in asking questions and sharing my concerns without fear of chastisement. That kind of environment was unlike anything I had ever experienced, and I am still soaking it in.

Also during this time, I was meeting frequently with my new bishop. This man is still the most Christ-like person I know and has been one of the top five most influential people in my life thus far. Here, as with my friends on the E-mail lists, I felt safe enough to say or ask anything

The only difference, of course, was that my bishop was a believing Mormon. Our talks helped me to balance what I was reading on the Internet and to sort out what my real objections to the church were. To count him among my friends today makes me feel incredibly lucky.

Nearly two years of participation on the E-mail lists and three years of regular meetings with my bishop brought me to the conclusion that I couldn't allow myself to be counted among the 10 million members of a church I feel ultimately does more harm than good. Last fall, approximately 90 days following my written request, my name was quietly removed from the records of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.

After submitting my exit letter, I chose to meet personally and individually with both my bishop and my stake president. Meeting with my bishop, as you might guess, was a piece of cake. It was my bishop that asked me if I would be willing to meet with the stake president who, as he claimed, was simply interested to hear why I was leaving.

I am fortunate that both experiences were very positive. I was very nervous to meet with the stake president, but agreed to do so because my bishop believed he had no ill intentions and I trust my bishop's judgement. As it turned out, the stake president was very kind and willing to listen to my 45-minute mini-sermon on why I was leaving. I left feeling like I had said everything I wanted to, in the way that I wanted to. The experience of calmly and clearly stating my beliefs (or lack thereof) to a high-ranking Mormon official was very therapeutic and a boost to my own confidence.

Most of my family is unaware of my membership status. From a family of nine children, only about half are active LDS. The inactive children (excluding myself) are simply inactive, non-believing, and seemingly have had no need to recover. My parents are fully aware that I do not attend church and I lack a belief in God, but do not know the extent to which I am opposed to the church. I have struggled a lot between wanting to allow them their own religious freedom and wanting to express my own. For now I have found a happy medium that doesn't include disclosing my own self-imposed excommunication

My reasons for leaving the LDS church are many. Being lied to by General Authorities, inconsistent doctrine and emotional abuse top the list....although that isn't the whole list. I feel, however, as if it has all been said by the other storytellers who have bravely shared their exodus with the world so that anyone, like me, could know she was not alone. A quick browse through the "letters from Mormons" Eric has posted would give any level-headed individual the inside-scoop on how Mormons really feel about those who willingly walk away. Recovery is not without ridicule. But then, few things worth doing are without obstacles. Go ahead and ask me how I feel having climbed my mountain and having survived the trek.

I still live in Utah and am endlessly fascinated with the culture and how the LDS church influences it. Unfortunately, I am disturbed and in disagreement equally as often. Utah certainly is a unique environment

Today I am an atheist (another story in itself) who is not a part of any organized religion, but a part of life. The origins of the universe or a supposed hereafter do not necessarily concern me

Not knowing the answers to all of the "big" questions do not concern me. In fact, very little concerns me except continuing to enjoy the opportunity I have at this moment to laugh, to learn and to love.

There are times though when I do still feel anger toward the Mormon church. I explained it once in a post I sent to the exmormon E-mail list:
"The whole thing is about control. Control painted over with "spirituality". And the painting starts so young! By the time you actually get to a temple-going age, you could hardly remove all of the paint with ten buckets of turpentine...
"Baptism: Splat!--A layer of paint
Youth worthiness interviews with the bishop: Splat!
Patriarchal blessings: Splat!
Seminary: Splat!
Fast & Testimony meeting: Splat!
The yearly stake temple fireside: Splat!
General Conference: Splat!
Missions: Splat! Splat! Splat!!

"Was I upset about any of this when I was going through it? No. I loved my childhood. I could've done without seminary, but I loved testimony meetings, youth conference, singing in the choir. Until one day L------ comes along and refers me to Eric's web site....CRACK!!! "Hmmm...what is that down there? What's under all of this....what is this?? Is that my skin down there? Is that what skin looks and feels like? Of course, the easy thing to do would be to paint over the crack. But kind of like a scab you just can't leave alone, you pick pick pick pick pick pick pick at it until you're past the point of no return. Air! My skin can breathe! My mind can think! GET THIS PAINT OFF OF ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!

"Pick pick pick pick pick pick pick pick pick pick!! "Scrape...rub...pick...scratch...pick...pick...pick...pick...pick...

"Next thing you know, you're standing there stark naked, surrounded by flecks and chips of paint. What a mess. You're half exhausted, half adrenalized. You spend the next few weeks, months, years cleaning up, getting dressed, vacuuming up paint chips.

"Move on," they say. "They're right!" you think, "move on!" "So you open the closet to grab your jacket and paint chips fall out of the sleeve. Pesky little flecks! You thought you had gotten them all! It's a day, it's a decade...but you keep finding them. A little less each time, perhaps. A fleck in your hair, a fleck under the rug in the entryway, a fleck in your dinner. You cry. You mutter under your breath. You take a long shower and try to wash it all away. "Until the next time

"And people wonder why I'm angry. Hmph."

If you are just now leaving Mormonism and things aren't so rosy-it's okay. I sorted through an awful lot of emotions (disbelief, anger, grief) before I landed where I am today: genuinely happy. Time will ride you through the rough spots and bring you to a place you never could have imagined while "under the influence" of Mormonism.

If I attempted to list here all of the ways in which my life has improved since leaving Mormonism, I'm not sure the list would ever end. But I do know it would include (aside from the two most obvious: more time and money) a stronger sense of self and a greater gratitude for what I have

I marvel at the capabilities of the human being. I even marvel at myself on occasion. I am stunned by the amount of knowledge, understanding, tolerance, and love that comes from an open mind that is willing to hear and consider an opposing view. Many Mormons fall way short in this regard. I feel sorry for what they are missing

I am amazed at and in awe of the evolution of our planet and of our species. The choices and possibilities open to me are endless-every one of them exciting. To quote the unknown author of a favorite bumper sticker, "I believe in life BEFORE death." Amen to that. My time will not be wasted at another Relief Society meeting or another worthiness interview. I wish they knew that worth can't be earned in increments of obedience to the 10 commandments-it just IS.

Finally, to all of those I have shared my life with these past two years on the lists: My own recovery from Mormonism has been in large part to each one of you. Thank you for your unconditional love. Thank you for your wisdom and for sharing your own experiences. Thank you for your example. I had no idea what great things were possible within myself until I first saw them in you.

Kristen - ladybug810@yahoo.com