A Tale of Two Cities and Two Towers
I was a mormon.
# Why I left More stories of 'Why I left' the Mormon church
For me, Charles Dickens said it best in his book ‘A Tale of Two Cities.' It opens up with "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way..."
Like many of you, I have spent the last several years trying to make sense out of the most extraordinary experience of my life-my evolution through and beyond traditional Mormon beliefs. The journey for me has been transforming and utterly profound...and yet, from the outside, I remain remarkably, conspicuously unchanged. I must say that migrating out of the church paradigm (both practically and philosophically) has been the most painful, frightening and liberating experience of my life-hence my reference to Dickens. Life is a paradox. Within me lives two ‘tales' of Mormonism.
One tale emphasizes the genuine appreciation I will forever feel for the integrity the church taught me to live by, the emphasis on hard work and sacrifice, higher education and focus on the family. These values are deeply entrenched within my psyche. Oddly, it was that very ‘commitment to integrity' the church instilled that eventually motivated (no...required of me) to quietly separate from the institution that claimed it ‘stood for truth and righteousness.' See, I was really paying attention in sacrament meeting when we sang the hymn ‘choose the right--let the consequence follow.'
The other tale...as it were...includes an acute awareness of the control the church wields in millions of people's lives (ironically while preaching free agency); the guilt it imposes to control the masses; the pervasive gender bias that leaves women with the subtle but painful realization that they are simply ‘not enough;' and the fear and dependence the church fosters in it's faithful members as it teaches we must ‘be ye therefore perfect' or be rejected by the very God who gave us life. What a trip! No wonder Mormons are so heavy-hearted and need to be ‘counseled' by the prophet to lighten up and "be of good cheer."
My experiences with the church-both good and bad--are too many to enumerate, and to this audience, not even all that unique. Suffice it to say, for me, the beginning of the end came while studying church history from the historian's view. Thirty books and buckets of tears later, I came to realize that ‘a church that will not tell the truth simply CANNOT BE TRUE'. The inconsistencies, contradictions, and scandal replete within Mormon history, (which are foundational to the current LDS church doctrine), make it nearly impossible for a thoughtful and informed person to dismiss and disregard. The cognitive dissonance I felt set in motion a chain of events that lead to some painful conclusions. While the church apparently meets many peoples' needs, I just needed the church to be true. I chuckle now as I consider that the church would not be able to pass its own temple recommend interview-- especially with the question "are you honest in all your dealings?"
It's taken several years, but today I am through the pain. At the time, however, it was exquisite. I had never felt more abandoned and betrayed as when I discovered that the church I trusted wasn't telling the truth. It spins and twists and changes the stories about it's roots, it's history and it's leaders, fueling myths to keep people attached, committed, and paying their tithing. Like most institutions, the LDS church is self-serving and looks out, first and foremost, for its own interests.
When I could begin to really grieve, I started to move through the pain. On the other side of pain, however, I could begin to feel the freedom that comes with developing my own ethics, ideas and world view. Like the twin towers of 9/11, my religious beliefs came crashing down; first Mormonism and then Christianity. Both powerful paradigms-but paradigms all the same.
Let me close by saying this. Life is good. I have never loved more people...or felt more personal freedom than I do now. My mind is more open to new ideas and my heart is filled with real humility since growing beyond the traditions of Mormonism. Ultimately, I think the church was right. "Seek the truth and the truth shall set you free"; free from prejudice, free from unnecessary fear, free from neurotic guilt, free from artificial constraints, and freedom to love people without judgment, expectation or qualifiers. It really has been quite a trip.
Questions about Mormons My Answers to Questions about Mormonism
#Link to this answer of 'What do you call yourself now that you aren't mormon?' by Moonshine What do you call yourself now that you aren't mormon? See more answers about 'What do you call yourself now that you aren't mormon?'
Thoughts on the label, "former Mormon," taken from the discussion thread titled, Exhibit A:
I don't identify with the label 'former mormon.' My religious heritage is a bit like an old and outgrown pair of childhood pajamas (nearly thread bare and tattered)--which lay neatly tucked in the back of my drawer, rich with memories, history, perspective, sentimental attachment...and ocassionally give me pause for real reflection. I did not LEAVE my pajamas but merely out grew them. I cannot throw them away...but it would be ridiculous to wear them and pretend they still fit.
Women may better relate to this phenomenon. Women (in many cultures) inherit our father's last name and are called accordingly until we marry a man (btw I'm not entirely thrilled with this tradition just so you know). Once we marry, we don't cease to be the person we were-- but we grow into a new and more mature identity. When I married, I took my husband's last name but my maiden name became my legal middle name. Hence, my name is growing but I don't/cannot cast off what I was before. It's a little like rings in a tree measuring growth over time. I have a 'mormon ring' that forever tells the story of where I've been.
Even if I were to have my name removed from the records of the church...my mormon identity would stay with me. I am mormon like some folks are Irish. It ties me to my family and helps explain where I came from.
With that said...please feel free to add my story to the rest. No doubt it is a common tale and will perhaps normalize for others what they may be feeling once they realize thier pajamas no longer fit.