I am not a Young Woman anymore, and I may not even be a young woman anymore. I’m forty-four. That makes me a millennial, but only barely. I am also not planning on “leaving” the Church anytime soon if we mean where you’re likely to find me on most Sunday mornings.
So in some ways, I’m the wrong person to write about the young women who are leaving religion in their numbers. But humor me, everyone, and let’s call me young-adjacent. Also, I have a confession: I left a long time ago.
I resist the PIMO label (physically in, mentally out). I am definitely mentally in. Every Sunday I listen carefully. I observe. As a function of one of my callings (organist), I get to sit on the stand. It’s a fascinating privilege to observe a congregation, week after week, year after year. You learn things about people. You feel for them.
But the Church lost the Margie it wanted when I was earning my Personal Progress Medallion, the girl I was back when I really was a Young Woman. I am here now on my own terms, and they aren’t the terms the Church had in mind for me when I was a Beehive—or a Builder of Faith, I guess. (Are the names retroactive? Can they do that? Is “Beehive” a victory for Satan now too?)
There is so much I’m just not invested in: obedience, truth claims, covenant paths. None of that is especially important to me—fun academically, though. (Why do truth claim issues break some people’s shelves and not others’? What psychic and social benefits does Mormon obedience confer, if any? What about this moment in our people’s history has made “the Covenant Path” appealing rhetorically?—all potential topics for future blog posts, btw.) I am not the mother in Zion the Church was after. That girl vanished sometime in her early twenties. And the one in her place kept going to church. She went because it mattered terribly, urgently to her own parents. She went for the ancestors and the debts she felt she owed them. And she stays because of what she sees every Sunday when she looks out over the congregation.
But I have nothing but respect—and often admiration— for the ones who go away.
Many of the Mormon girls I grew up with have daughters now in their late teens and early twenties. The young women who are going away. And I wonder if part of the story is that these young women learned different things from their parents than I learned from mine. They were taught they mattered, and not because of a role they’d fill; that they were worthy, and not because they could give the “right” answers to a list of questions. Their mothers taught them that their own minds and moral judgment could be trusted. And they did not doubt their mothers knew it. That is how I’m trying to raise my daughters.
So that’s me. Margie. And I am beyond thrilled to be a perma here now. But I’m curious about you:
Have you gone away? In what sense? And what have you found there?
Have you stayed? On what terms? And what has it given you?
Discuss.
Is it ok if I comment (man here)? My wife isn’t on this board. She was taught that the current president of the Church receives revelation and talks to God. She was taught the Church is lead by this person so all the Church policies (not to mention the truth claims) are “true”. She was not expected to be perfect (that’s what repentance is for) but she should never question things.
My wife, with me, had three daughters. We started out teaching them the way we were taught. But as they got older we saw things we didn’t like. Simple example: YW leaders shaming them for immodesty while at the same time parading around with very obvious boob jobs. Or pushing them to go on missions while NOT saying anything about education, career, etc. So we began to teach our daughters to think for themselves. You don’t have to be Republican. You don’t have to be a Molly Mormon. Just be a good person with true empathy and love. This was VERY different than what my wife had been taught.
Well, all three girls are OUT now. Blame me and my wife if you want but they left the Church BEFORE us while at college the second it was safe to do so. Side note: all three were accepted into BYU but none of them attended BYU. Maybe that’s the biggest difference…my wife was basically mandated to attend BYU.
If the system can get them on a mission and/or attend BYU their chances of staying active solidifies obviously. A lesson for everyone with kids to consider, whether you are in or out.
I was always only sort of mentally in. My husband drank the Koolaid the missionaries poured and I wanted us to go to church together as a family. This was 1976, and I was greatly concerned that Blacks didn’t have the priesthood. Until I lived being female in the church I had not realized how I would later know how badly the church needed women in the priesthood.
I thought it possible but not probable that the BOM was what it said it is, so my membership has always been iffy. I love the community and the good people I meet at church, and since I did not grow up in Young Women, I simply ignored a lot of what I thought was silly. Both of my daughters hated Young Women and wanted to do the fun things the boys were doing. Both have now left.
These days I am the old woman speaking out at every opportunity about the injustice of the patriarchal system. Bishops express ‘concern’.
I really appreciate your thoughts Margie. Until very recently, I sat on the stand for 5 years. As I listened to our ward members give their messages in sacrament meeting and was able to look at the faces of the congregation week after week, have annual and bi-annual discussions with the adult membership and work closely with the youth I couldn’t help but gain a real sense of kinship and real love for each of them. I’m not going to sugar coat it, it’s not always so with everyone, just like all relationships, there are ups and downs, but overall, I stay because of the people that I consider my friends. It’s the guy in the foxhole next to you idea. So much of the dogma is just that to me, and does not matter at all with my relationship with my Savior and Heavenly Parents. I think too often, Q15 feels like they need to come up with a new method to help the membership and sometimes it misses the mark. Covenant path is one of those for me. TBMs eat it up though because it came from on high. My thoughts about it have always been…..meh…..
My unmarried daughter, in her late 30s has made adjustments to her thoughts about spirituality as a result of “not finding the one.” She would dearly love to have her own family, but it just hasn’t happened. So she finds other fulfilling things in her life. She and my wife are inseparable, and I love that dearly about them. I am relentlessly teased by them about my boomerisms and oldmanisms. It’s our love language. My daughter recognizes that it is error to tell young women that the end all, happy ending, is having a family to gain real joy in this life. She recognizes that real joy is a result of a life well lived and comes as a result of inner strength and experience. It’s not all roses, and it’s not supposed to be.
As a result of my experience with my daughter and others, I see why so many young women are leaving in search of a better connection to humanity than the church sometimes provides. But as you have indicated Margie, and many others on this W&T site, we stay because of our connection to our friends and community, and you have figured that out and are enjoying the connection. I just wanted to say, you’re not alone and there are more members that think as you do than TBMs, it’s just hard to see sometimes because generally the TBMs are running the show. My wife, daughter and sons are right there with you Margie! 😉
Cheers Friends
Hi josh h, hi lpf43,
First, yes, definitely want everybody (who wants to) commenting! Men, women, nonbinary folks–everyone.
I really do think there is something to the idea that Xers (even some late Boomers) and Millennials are raising their kids differently than we were raised. I knew (know) that if I ever left the Church, it would break something irreversible in the relationship with my parents. Frankly, it would break my parents. That’s not the only reason I “stay,” but it’s part of it. My own kids know that there are hundreds, probably thousands, of things more important to me than their relationship to the Church. It sounds like you and your wife did good work, josh h.
lpf43, I lost interest/investment in the BoM as ancient text while at BYU, maybe before. It’s more fun to read (for me) as a 19th century one. I still consider it scripture. (Rattling around in my head is the beginnings of a “What is scripture?” post.) I am glad you’re fighting the good fight. 🙂
17RRider, it’s such a luxury to be understood. Thank you. And to your wife and daughter. The congregation I attend is very welcoming, and we have people all over the spectrum of belief, but I am not fooling myself: I’m kind of radical. lol.
On marriage-and-children-as-the-end-all-be-all, this is another place where what we say and what we do (to reference Kristine A’s excellent post of earlier this week) are at odds. And even what we say is cold comfort.
Thank you so much for sharing your experience. I agree that the community we gain can be very affirming. Cheers to you too!
I struggle mightily, and yet I stay. The reasons I stay, like the struggle, are complex.
I graduated from both Ricks College and BYU. Both experiences were very positive for me. I loved my years there! And yet, I could not have encouraged our children to attend either, even had they been interested. My outside looking in perception is that both schools have become much more rigid and much less thoughtful since I left.
I love the gospel of Jesus Christ. I really like many of the doctrines we have in the LDS church. The gospel as I understand it helps me to become a better person. I love the idea of eternal progression. I am not thriving in the current Utah church culture. As I study, I find I have more faith and less certainty. I’m quite sure we don’t have the correct understanding of eternal truths, that as mortals we don’t even have the capacity to understand those truths. We’re all just doing the best we can with our limited capacity.
I have always been extremely active, while at the same time, one of the few things I’m sure of is that I’m not welcome at church.
I’m trying to learn not to feel so guilty about all of the common beliefs that simply do not make sense or all of the expectations that cause damage to me and my family. My head is convinced that those things are cultural rather than doctrinal. My emotions try to tell me I’m failing when I can’t make those beliefs and activities beneficial. My testimony tells me that my Heavenly Parents are working with me as I sincerely strive to learn and grow, to become the person we all want me to be. My conditioned reflexes mean I still feel conflicted and often guilty.
My ward has some of the kindest, best people I know. We don’t agree on much of anything. I’m very careful what I share with them about my personal understanding. I refuse to talk politics with them because we could not be friends if I did. I try to gloss over many of the comments I receive as I genuinely believe my neighbors don’t have any understanding at all about the way others hear them. I did ask a good friend what she thought it did to her son to know that his parents are disappointed in him.
I also stay because my husband is more traditionally believing than I am, even though he understands and often agrees with my perspective.
I stay because I’m Mormon to my core. I don’t think I know how to be anything else. I’m trying to learn how to cherish the sustaining aspects of that heritage, while letting go of the rest. I’m trying to learn to work with and be adequately confident about the inspiration I receive as I search, ponder, and pray.
Well, I am a mother to two daughters who left 30 years ago, and a grandmother of grandchildren who are leaving, or neverMo. My son who is nuanced (maybe one foot out the door) and husband are the only holdouts who are still in, and son’s wife who is PIMO.
We raised our children to be critical thinkers. Need I say more?
I guess I’m still here. I’m still at church every week. I’ve given up on accepting the church as a moral authority by default. Too many grossly wrong decisions on too many different topics have brought me to the point that I can’t accept that church leaders are always, or even usually right about things. But I’m still there. Partly out of habit, I guess. The Mormons are my people, in all their rightness and in all their wrongness. My wife finds more value in Sunday attendance and temple attendance, even while she shares many of my frustrations, so I support her in that. I generally find church monotonous and intellectually unstimulating.
But the question “will he also go away?” is forward looking. “What are you going to do next?” I don’t know. After a decade of slow buildup, it’s been about 2 years now that I’ve been really hard pressed to find any positive feelings for the church as an institution. I’m not sure how sustainable my current position is. My ward is certainly more of a positive influence in my life than The Church, but the constant conflict in participating in a church that I have fundamental issues with is tough. I know that there’s no such thing as a perfect organization – my run club makes decisions that annoy me sometimes, too – but the level of conflict is awfully high. If I didn’t have 44 years and 8 generations invested into this thing, I don’t think I’d still be around.
This is a great post and I’m looking forward to more from you!
I read this post and the comments with great interest because many of the experiences in this post I have had and can fully identify with. I am what I would call a nuanced Mormon. My wife is a more traditional Mormon in that she shows up to church but I don’t know think her involvement is a deep on. She shows little interest in engaging in Sunday School lessons and the like. I am more intellectually engaged in scriptural and biblical studies but through other avenues and forums that are not affiliated with the church. I am the media specialist i.e. librarian and that gives me an excuse to blow off the sunday school and priesthood lessons because I find them lacking in content and instead study the scriptires on my own during those lessons.
There is a biblical studies forumm that was started by a prominent biblical scholar which sponsor lectures on biblical topics and recently a monthly online meet-up started where the participants can share their experiences within their own religious backgrounds and what I have seen and heard is that many of them were coming out of evangelical backgrounds and I am learnig to appreciate that they were having similar experiences and feeling about their church experience as the people who inhabit the W & T space are having so we are not alone.
This feels a little like I’m mansplaining since I’m male and my daughters aren’t on this forum, but I’m going to post anyways.
Daughter 1 is late 20’s and has a masters degree in engineering and works in a very male dominated field. She doesn’t put up with male BS and I think she’ll be quite successful professionally. She left the LDS church for the same reason she’s in engineering- she does what interests her and discards what she perceives as not helpful.
Daughter 2 is in mid 20s and is in graduate school in a female focused medical field. She attends church every week but is very mindful of the prevailing male narrative at church and has commented that the church seems to be unable to avoid some cult like behavior like the new YW names. She dutifully pays her tithing even though she’s poor so I believe she still qualifies as a believer even though she’s very liberal. The whole abortion thing in Idaho makes her head want to explode. She believes abortion availability is a necessary part of women’s healthcare.
I believe the current trajectory of women participation (or non participation) is unsustainable in the long run, although it could reach an equilibrium of the very devout- but it won’t look like a large thriving church. Sort of the Scientology model: wealthy but weird and small.
I loved reading each of your journeys. A common theme seems to be that y’all don’t particularly love the institution but love your corner of Mormonism. I love that.
Just to provide a different data point, I didn’t love what came out of the institution, and I didn’t love most of my corner of Mormonism. So leaving was the best option.
What have I found outside of it? Less cognitive dissonance, and a broader human experience when I made never-Mormon friends.
I’m a believer among skeptics and a skeptic among believers.
Doubt and skepticism feel like spiritual gifts to me. I realize that isn’t something many TBMs would readily accept, but at this point, I’m far more interested in living a life well examined than in pretending that God has privileged one single institution with absolute certainty and authority over truth and access to the highest “kingdom.”
I would classify myself as PIMC: physically in, mentally challenged.
I’m the first counselor in a bishopric in our Utah County ward, which makes this particularly challenging. The truth claims, doctrinal questions, and administrative realities can all be difficult to reconcile. And yet, it is also incredibly rewarding to be part of the lives of really good people.
I find theological and philosophical conversations invigorating. What frustrates me is that LDS meetings often feel more like self-congratulatory sessions than any kind of epistemological investigation. We gather not so much to wrestle with God and the big questions, but to confirm and reconfirm what has already been decided.
And I can hear the orthodox quoting Timothy now: “Ever learning, and never able to come to the knowledge of the truth.” To me, that is almost more revealing than they realize. It can feel like religion isn’t particularly interested in testing its claims. Instead, it works in the other direction: define the outcome first, then design the experiment so that it confirms what you already believe.
I, like DaveW, have given up on the Church as a moral authority.
I hate “worthiness.”
I despise the way we talk about Satan.
I’m triggered by phrases like “the covenant path,” obedience as the primary aim, Jesus as a stand-in for the penalty I should have received, ordinances being “required” for salvation as though heaven’s receptionist is checking the paperwork, tithing as fire insurance, and all the other mind-numbing prosperity-gospel nonsense.
I’m bothered when we’re told that questions are acceptable, but only after we’ve been given the boundaries of which questions are acceptable. I’m bothered when we blame God for racist policies and polygamy. I’m bothered when we say we’re “pro-life” while having absolutely nothing to say about God commanding genocide in scripture.
I could go on.
It’s quite the wrestle.
And yet, I stay.
One day, the first counselor, who I’m good friends with and who is just an incredible human being, paused during one of our conversations and asked me a simple question.
Not defensively. Not anxiously. Just sincerely and with genuine curiosity:
“Why do you stay?”
He asked because I don’t do a particularly good job of hiding what I think. We’ve also had many private conversations where he seems to genuinely value my perspective. So when he asked, I answered pretty quickly.
“Because, for some mysterious reason, I have an itch for the spiritual realm.”
I also have an itch for belonging to a community that cares for one another, however strange that community can sometimes be.
These are my people.
They’re weird. They’re dogmatic. Sometimes they’re morally superior. Sometimes they’re wonderfully generous and kind. But this is the context in which I’ve wrestled with God. This is the community in which I’ve experienced belonging, service, friendship, faith, doubt, frustration, beauty, and absurdity.
And maybe that’s part of why I stay.
I also stay because my wife loves it.
And I love her dearly.
Todd S, I too stay mostly because it is important to the husband I love dearly. It must be noted, however, that at least you have the priesthood no matter how much you waffle. What do we women in this position have?
Hi to all. I’ve got to say how much I love our W&T community.
PWS, I identify so much with what you’ve written. It is a struggle. Nothing interesting for me happens after certainty. And yet so many of our co-religionists prize it so highly. Like you, I have to tread carefully and set boundaries on how far or deep I’ll get into it with the folks in my ward and stake. I can usually find interesting common ground to tread with nearly anybody, but there are costs associated with doing that level of cognitive/emotional labor. I am trying to be like Jesus, too. But the Jesus I love and the Jesus other people seem to be following–there seems to be disconnect sometimes. Maybe I’m the problem.
Anna, critical thinking is so important, and it didn’t seem to be as frowned upon at every level of the church as it does just now. Tribalism which begets blind obedience (or is it the other way around?) seems to be the order of the day.
E, thank you. Hope it’s good. 🙂
Raymond Dunn, sometimes I think my scholarly training is part of the reason that I stay. The church, its rhetoric, its origins in 19th century America, and the culture it has created–I find it all endlessly interesting. I have been in Primary for the last few years (which is, with the exception of Nursery, the best place to spend the second hour); we’ve had some decent discussions in RS and Gospel Doctrine over the years in my ward, but the mileage has definitely varied.
Trevor H–I don’t think sharing your daughters’ experience thoughtfully is mansplaining. I agree; I also think the path the Institutional Church is on is unsustainable. But I’ve thought that for a while, now. I have a friend who is maybe 35 years older than I am. She had some family and social connections to inner track at 50 North Temple. About ten years ago we were having a whispered conversation in the foyer of our building, “I think we’ve got about fifteen years to go before all the wheels come off,” I confided in her. “Less,” she’d said. With eerie confidence.
Chadwick, when I allow myself to run the “what if I just totally left?” scenario, there is this sense of a lot of the most discordant voices in my psyche just–vanishing. I love your journey for you too! And my never-Mormon relationships are some of the most meaningful of my life.
Todd S., that was beautifully put. I relate very much to your journey too. The things that turn you off, yeah, me too. The things you love, I love them too. It is a beautiful and powerful thing to have a people. I don’t live in Utah, and except for my BYU years, I never have, but when I go visit (I have Mormon and never-Mormon family in Utah), and I wander Mormon spaces, the sense of belonging, of knowing and being known–it’s powerful. I love that.
And lpf43, I am gonna go out on a limb and say that I bet Todd S. agrees. And I do too. Being an inside-edge (to use Chris Kimball’s term) member and a woman is the whole backwards-in-heels thing.
lpf43 — Yes, I agree, and I recognize that I speak from a position of privilege. No doubt.
I also have an 18-year-old daughter who has stepped away from the Church for all of the reasons mentioned above, and I fully support her decision. I believe leaving is just as valid as staying. Neither inherently carries more moral or spiritual weight than the other. I still hold open the possibility that someday the benefits of staying will be outweighed by the mental anguish. That possibility is part of being honest about where I am.
What continues to surprise me, though, is how quickly I withdraw when conversations turn toward “missionary work,” particularly when the person being discussed is a young woman. I can’t in good conscience sit through lessons about the origins of the Church, the Book of Mormon, and God’s supposed designation of one institution as the “one and only true church.” I struggle with the idea of inviting someone to make a life-altering commitment while knowing there are significant parts of the story they may not be hearing.
I tend to think of joining the church as something akin to getting married. You can never know everything about the person you agree to marry, and no marriage begins with perfect knowledge. But deliberately concealing information that might reasonably change someone’s decision is a different matter. It’s a question of informed consent and trust. My own marriage has endured, survived, and even thrived through mistakes and painful discoveries. The problem isn’t that our history is messy. Life is messy. People make mistakes, institutions make mistakes, and relationships survive them all the time. The problem is what happens when the truth comes out and the response is essentially, “That was in the past,” or worse, “Those things don’t build faith”.
What the hell is faith if we separate it from its root, “trust”? Trust is not built, strengthened or maintained by concealing the hard stuff. Quite the opposite. It’s precisely expanded by sharing life’s weakness, a willingness to see and be seen.
A spouse shouldn’t be surprised when the discovery of concealed truths damages the trust on which a marriage depends. Telling someone that the deception was ultimately good for them doesn’t magically restore that trust.
The Church’s history is a damn mess. In many ways, so is mine. The difference is that I’m expected to acknowledge my mistakes, take responsibility, and repent. When it comes to the Church’s mistakes, too often the response seems to be another layer of apologetics, an appeal to historical context, or the suggestion that God was somehow responsible. I can make peace with human fallibility. What I struggle to accept is an institution that demands accountability from its members while seeming so reluctant to extend the same standard to itself.
I’m all in–though I rarely attend because of mental illness. I believe that the church has the words of eternal life; for me there’s simply no where else to go. Not that I feel caged, though–I love it.
It was relatively easy for me to step away when I did because I was in a new ward and didn’t have many roots. I enjoyed the comments from people who like their little corner of the Church, and stay for the fellowship. Perhaps if I’d stayed in my previous ward, or the one before that, that would have kept me in for longer.
Also, welcome Margie! (I’m the only perma not on Facebook, so I miss some things.) I’m very happy you’ll be posting regularly. I really enjoy your posts.
I can see that in my mother’s life, the church gave her many things she did not have without it: greater authority and opportunities for leadership, autonomy, friends of all sort, support and structure for raising a family, cultural enrichment, a social life with those who shared her values, a sense of meaning and importance, and the ability to get my dad to become a non-smoking teetotaler (he was a social drinker and smoked a pipe). My mom truly hated alcohol. When the church did too, it gave her the moral backing to convince my dad.
But in my own life, the church was already less progressive than the rest of my life. It was the one place where I was somewhat consistently powerless, talked down to by ridiculously inferior men, and felt invisible most of the time. I was usually the highest ranking person in the room from a business standpoint, but treated as though I was a houseplant in terms of my existence. When it came to my daughter, I had a hard time wanting that for her. I was willing to support her if that’s what she wanted, but I couldn’t really endorse it either.
I did raise my kids to completely break with the church on issues like sexism, racism, homophobia, and anti-trans rhetoric, and unfortunately, they heard plenty of things at church along these lines that they knew went against our values. I always encouraged them to befriend the kids at school who were marginalized, to join the gay-straight alliance (for example), and to treat everyone as having dignity and being worthy of friendship which is literally what Jesus taught. It’s just not what the Church teaches. You could blame me for leading them out of the church, but it’s more accurate to say that the church did it to itself by not actually practicing what Jesus taught. You can say many things about Gen Z, but they can sniff out hypocrisy, that’s for sure.
Hi!
Dave W, forgive me–I have been thinking about your comment, and somehow thought I’d replied. But your words about the moral authority of the Church–I’d guess, and it’s been a long time, but I would guess that this is the thing that caused everything that followed for little Margie and her relationship with the Church. I agree with Hawkgrrrl’s later comment–Gen Z are even more attuned, but once I saw the hypocrisy, it was like “Welp. All bets are off, I guess.” The rest of my immediate family is more out than I am, and when they press me on why I’m still with an organization that does so much harm, it’s hard to always know what to say. Except that these are my people and I want so much for us to be better.
Jack, I am sorry you can’t attend as much as you would like to.
Janey! Thank you! The feeling is entirely mutual. Sometimes I wonder what would happen if we moved. We’ve lived in our current ward for over a decade. But if we left… I probably would try the new ward. But would I persist? It’s hard to know, to be honest. Also, there are now two of us who aren’t on FB. 🙂
Hawkgrrrl, I think you’re really on to something. My grandmother was born in Utah in 1914. Her family moved to California when she was five or six. What the Church gave her, what it gave even my mother–autonomy, authority, friends, infrastructure, outlets for their talents… it was ahead of where the rest of the world was (especially for my grandma). Now? The distance between the scope of my professional life and the scope of what I can and can’t do at church is so wide as to be… well, I get the sense that it makes men my age and younger profoundly uncomfortable, actually. Embarrassed. Like they’re part of the problem. And they aren’t. But I get the sense lots and lots of us are looking around and thinking, “This is how God wants it? Really?”
I stay because I believe all sincere seekers will find home in the same whole. As long as you are following your conscience, you are whole. I have wandered many paths inside and outside of “the church.” All roads lead to where we stand. I believe in the truth of all things.
Please follow your conscience if it takes you elsewhere. We need what you will have found when we meet again.
Or stay with me and speak up undaunted when needed and with compassion. Either way we will come together again.
The Articles of Faith featured very prominently in my creation of self. (I don’t think my kids could tell you most of them despite weekly church attendance, whereas I spoke/sang/memorized/pondered them frequently when I was in primary).
They aren’t perfect. I would make a few changes. But you’ll notice that none of our modern ecclesiastical plagues are found there.
On the other hand, all of the various identities that this community often expresses, these can be nurtured, encompassed and respirated by the Articles of Faith.
Obedience is listening, perceiving and engaging. It is not mere compliance. Sometimes, to obey, we must be incompliant. To listen and perceive is the literal etymological root of the word.
Scripture, at its foundation, is simply that which is written. This is the literal root of the word. This post and its comments, they are all scripture. Everything written is scripture. Sacred texts are sacred because they endure, and we share them more universally. Some (all?) of them teach truths both by example and counterexample. Is the Book of Mormon true and the word of God? It is when we translate it correctly. As is that song, that poem, that play, that myth, that one that speaks to you.
And hopefully we call each other often, from wherever we are. When we make mistakes, we will learn. One common error is to mistake a vanity for our conscience. Another is to expect the church to be something it wasn’t designed to be. Another might be to miss God’s presence in the living being that is right in front of you, or to look for it somewhere else, to not receive God when God calls. What do you see and hear and behold from where you have been? Tell me more. I want to hear your voice.
I go for my wife. We adopted our first children from an undocumented migrant from Guatemala. She was at a battered women’s shelter when we first met her at 6 months pregnant. My wife wanted him to learn Spanish, so she began learning it herself, I already spoke some Spanish but have since improved, and we began attended a Spanish ward where we have been for the last 11 years of our lives. We have made a lot of friends in the Spanish ward. I also stay for them, but I have my boundaries. I don’t give talks, teach lessons, attend tithing settlement, or get a temple recommend. The Spanish ward is great. But I honestly couldn’t keep going to an English ward. I can’t stand white Utah Mormon culture.
As for what the church gives me? Honestly nothing. I feel nothing. I have no interest in it. It’s just there. It surrounds me and my family. So I participate in it. As for my two boys and how I want to raise them. I let my wife do what she wants to do with no interference. My 8-yo son still believes in the tooth fairy, so there’s not much conversation there. But my oldest 11yo son is more of a thinker. We’ve talked about evolution, the history of human migration, the populating of the Americas and how Native Americans are descendants of East Asians who came over 10,000 years ago. We’ve even begun talking about the history of the Bible and the early Israelites would tell grandiose stories with heroes doing larger than life things much like the Akkadians and Greeks. We’ve talked about how Genesis was written by multiple people and passed down orally over centuries.
I’ve loved this segment and the comments. I’ve been back to read them for a second time. It is so wonderful to read the comments of others that I relate to. I am a 5th generation Mormon, returned missionary, married in the temple to a spouse that is very active and involved that I love very much. I’ve been in bishoprics, on the high council, elders quorum president, high priest group leader and now I really don’t believe. I don’t go to the temple, I don’t hold a temple recommend and don’t intend to go back. I am quite liberal and horrified by our current political culture in the U.S and by the politics among most of my fellow saints. I am very concerned about the direction of our country and where it is headed and the failure of our church leaders to lead in any meaningful way or push back against the authoritarian and dishonest federal system we currently have. I am very sad that our church leadership speaks so highly of women, yet does extremely little to give them any significant voice. I dread church, particularly Elders Quorum, and find the focus on conference talks, the priesthood and the covenant path to be life sucking. I do enjoy the Bible and church history and enjoy participating in an academic sort of way, but there is less and less opportunity for that as church gets dumbed down. Yet I am culturally a Mormon and that identity colors every aspect of my life. I do not want to hurt my wife or her family or my believing siblings or destroy relationships with my believing friends. It can be a very lonely place to be. Thank you to you all that participate in this forum. On this night it has been a nice place to park and ponder.
I would classify myself as PIMA, Physically In, Mentally Ambivalent. I stay for my wife, who fairly orthoprax, but somewhat heterodox. She thinks the early saint were “kooky”, the golden plates story defies logic, and that polygamy was the result of horny men doing booty calls.
Our kids are in, but youngest is gay. She is afraid to openly admit it, but it’s obvious from her behavior. My wife hopes she will stay active, but recognizes that her mental wellness may mean my daughter will need to go less active. A big part of me hopes that the cognitive dissonance of having a gay child in church will motivate my wife to further disengage from the church.
I’m due for my TR renewal in January, and I’m torn between giving the “correct” responses to fit in with the community and keep my wife’s confidence, or to share what I honestly think and risk losing everything.
JLM, since I don’t believe in TR interviews, and I think they are intrusive and exclusionary, I think you should do what is necessary if you need to keep a recommend for family reasons and if losing one would cause problems. For that matter I think ALL ‘worthiness’ interviews should be abandoned. I finally gave up on keeping mine when I simply could not sustain Nelson.
JLM, having a lesbian daughter did not help my believing husband see that God still approves of our daughter and her love of her wife. Our daughter in law died recently, and watching the two of them and their love for each other as they knew they were going to be apart should have shown him that love is love and God fully approves of two people who love each other. He accepted the relationship was not his to choose and loved them both, but still feels it is somehow immoral.
But LGBT issues was part of why I just could not stay in the church. I don’t even like people who hate on my daughter.
And I am with Brad D, and hate white, Utah, homophobic, MAGA, anti science, anti intellectual, low brow, kitschy, Mormon culture. Although I was born and raised in Utah, after spending 20 years with the military, living all over the world and experiencing the family of military wards who really stuck together and served each other about 10 times what Utah wards do, so moving back to Utah was BAD culture shock. I am on the autism spectrum and just cannot do the game playing that is common in Utah. Autism means I am also very uncomfortable in big groups and church is always big groups for adults under correlation. Three hours of over stimulation makes me want to hide in a quiet corner for three weeks. I could not make friends in the ward as I am just too different in every way. I felt like I had to mask autism and act normal much more than with nonMormons. Sitting in Sunday School with noise canceling ear phones doesn’t go over well. I had to act fully believing. I had to hide my lesbian daughter or act ashamed of her. I had to hide all symptoms of child abuse and my distrust of men. I had to tolerate the Mormon handshake grabby touchy culture. Shudder. I had to hide my political leanings. I had to hide my higher education and understanding of other cultures because too many Utahns have never experienced anything but Utah. I had to hide my highbrow music and artistic interests and pretend to like the boring kitsch that passes for art and music. Am I sounding like a snob? Well, that is exactly how my Utah ward felt about me.
I think my oldest daughter had the culture shock issue too, because she turned against the church quite violently within six months of us moving to Utah.
I have appreciated the comments about how the church used to have more for women. That started changing with correlation in 1970. Gradually all the good has been sucked out of relief society until it is nothing more than a male run Sunday school for women. The block schedule and putting it on Sunday, so we couldn’t stay and visit or have long work meetings with luncheons and quilting the rest of the afternoon was another big loss. Then taking away lessons written by and for women was the next big blow. The special interest groups flopped because, well they couldn’t be during the day and they couldn’t be in the ward building because it was always in use and the men hovered over them controlling which books the book club could read.
Back when I was RS president, there was RS in the mornings with a hired non Mormon baby sitter for the housewives. Then on Sunday Mornings there was RS for the working women also with a hired babysitter because their husband was in priesthood meeting. We made sure every woman could attend.
Then the block schedule happened and we were told we could not pay a non Mormon babysitter, and some women had to miss RS to babysit and call it a class as part of primary only for 18 months to 3 year olds and women had to drag their babies to RS with them and disrupt the meeting with fussy babies. You really cannot be participating in a meeting while tending an infant. And women were always tending their babies, in Sac meeting, Sunday School and RS. The three hour block was murder on babies and toddlers. Suddenly it stopped being fun and turned into just another meeting. Primary stopped being fun for the kids and was now just what Junior Sunday school used to be. More women missed RS to teach primary. Suddenly half the women were no longer able to attend RS, as if it was a worthless meeting. Well, gee, the men didn’t value it or the women, so no wonder they were treating it as unimportant. And it BECAME a worthless meeting under the men’s control.
I think correlation is slowly strangling the church as everything gets dumber and dumber.
Sorry this is long. I must be talkative today
IPF43 – I think your advice to JLM is good advice regarding TRIs. Believe me, as a recently released,😁🤔, bishop and previous bishopric member, I figured if a person is there for a recommend, and they can answer the last question, “Do you consider yourself worthy to enter the Lord’s house and participate in temple ordinances,” we can work through the rest of the mormonism questions. But I often found myself having to help people feel good about answering the questions “correctly.” I didn’t have a problem with them going to the temple if they were struggling with some of the issues, that are strictly “mormon,” but trying to help them understand that they were “right with the Lord” before going on to the Stake Presidency was always the issue. I would just let them know to just answer the questions with the SP and get your pass.
So my point is, if you like your bishop, and he is a good guy, and you want your 2 year Temple Ticket, and you know you’re good with the last question, just answer the damn questions! 🤣
Cheers –
Margie: Kudos to you on a beautifully written narrative. My sincere compliments. Long, Slow, Deliberate Clapping.
As I was sitting quietly a week or so ago – just looking at the beautiful Fall colors – I asked myself this question: “In reality, what has the LDS Church done FOR me through all the decades of my life?” While attempting to honestly answer the question, I quickly noted all that the LDS Church has TAKEN from me – through all the decades of my life. The following is a quick summation of what I conclude was stolen/ripped away from me:
Enormous amount of time – years really
Emotional/Mental Well Being – through most of my young life; and on into middle age.
Enormous amount of Money and Resources – even during the darkest times of my Life; when I could have used some help.
Physical Health – some of which has been ground down by my attempts to live up to a “Standard of Perfection”. (I’m trying like H*ll to correct this now.)
When compared to what has been taken from me (some through choices of my own – but much of which was simply mandated to me as a young person) the LDS Church (as an organization) has down NOTHING for me. Zippo, Nada, Zero.
The title of the post – “Will ye also go away?” – is an interesting choice, especially to speak out loud. I imagine the institutional Church saying this directly to me, not as a genuine question but as if pointing to the exit and forcefully asking me to leave and never come back, followed by “don’t let the door hit you on the way out” or something to that effect. It feels more and more like the Church wants to get rid of people like me (nuanced/PIMO/progressive/independent thinker), rather than merely tolerate us or gently try to reform us as they would have in the past. The Church is so obscenely wealthy now that any member who isn’t 100% loyal can easily be viewed by the senior leaders as expendable, as a liability. They don’t have to do it by force, though. All they have to do is make the core LDS experience so dull, hollow and frustrating to the point that only the most committed will stay, and the rest will find their own way out. An artificial, organizational separation of the wheat and the tares, as it were.
It’s also sadly ironic that the Church is outwardly trying to make big shifts to focus more on ministering to the youth. My teenage daughter has a relationship with the Church that is lukewarm at best, and she can see right through the artificiality and insincerity of the outreach attempts, and would much rather do her homework than go to another lame youth night activity. She has indicated to me that the Church may not necessarily be a part of her life once she becomes an independent adult, and my wife and I have told her that we love her no matter what and support her making informed decisions for her own life. The Church has completely given up on trying to redeem my generation to instead try and save today’s youth, and they are doing a piss poor job at it and losing both in the process.
Well, I still attend, but am not remotely orthodox, nor do I currently have a calling. I do have a temple recommend, but have been very open that I didn’t/ don’t like Nelson/Oaks, disagree/d with them but recognise that they are the ones in charge and get to make the decisions. That’s been acceptable so far.
I have four daughters. All have left. Two have had their names removed, and two just don’t go or believe. They went until as youth because we did but after graduation, they walked their own path. They could not reconcile how, at church, they were told to be one way, and if they said they wanted to go to school or get a job, they were shunned by the other girls. It grew from there.
The thing is, those girls and my daughters both have careers now; it’s just that their children are different in number and age. Their’s more and older and my girl’s, less and younger. All the kids are still a work in progress and good but I’m sure some of their kids will start leaving too and my girl’s children will still be good contributing members of society and a larger outlook on a larger world they are facing.
Second comment for me.
Notwithstanding leaving in 2023, the church did a bit for me growing up in the 80s and 90s.
My mission experience was my first time outside the US and I loved every P Day going to museums and Buddhist temples and experiencing lunar new year and mid autumn festival, learning Chinese, etc. The actual mission work was hard and the climate did me no favors. Probably half of my companions were locals and meeting their families and learning about the culture piqued an interest to this day that I may never have otherwise discovered. 22 countries and counting.
I’m still floored so many missionaries serving outside their home country come home and have no desire to leave UT and think immigrants are terrible. Doesn’t compute for me.
I learned how to speak in front of a crowd, that I don’t like shooting guns, how to light a camp fire several ways, that I love the outdoors and strive to leave no trace. Giving back to my community but more intentional now. All things I still benefit from today.
Because of my parent’s situation, I probably would not have experienced any of this if not for the church. Because I still want my kids to have these skills and experiences, and because I’m not my parents, I’m doing my best to get my kids these experiences outside the church.
I left mentally a decade before I finally called it quits. I no longer fit in with the members (if I ever really did) and the church has become something very distinct to what I grew up with. And the way it has attempted to overwrite its history sits wrong with me. Among other reasons (or excuses).
I grew up in small-town Utah. I have five sisters and two brothers. Based on the behaviors of most of the people I grew up with, there was probably a 75% chance that I would become a misogynist. I chose the better path and am about as feminist as I think anyone possessing a penis can be.
On my mission in Peru I would enjoy being able to be around other North American missionaries occasionally. There were only 20 of us out of 200 missionaries so we didn’t see other gringos all that often. After the fun of speaking a little English wore off, I was happier hanging out with my Peruvian mission buddies. I didn’t like the sensation of excluding others by speaking a language most of them didn’t understand. One of my dearest friends, a Peruvian companion, told me near the end of my mission that I was “envase gringo, contenido peruano.” That is, gringo on the outside, Peruvian on the inside. He meant it as a compliment and I took it as such.
Having left the church, as I mentioned in a comment on another post, I get to be my more authentic self. I see a lot of “othering” happen in the church and I dislike it, having been one of the “others” several times in my life. I enjoy being myself and I want that for everyone. I work really hard to treat others kindly. I’m working on standing up for those that have been othered. That’s a tough goal as I am very introverted and non-confrontational, but I truly believe that if I want to be truly kind, that extends beyond how I interact with others to using whatever privilege I may have to help those who don’t.
The comments on this thread are all so good. Thank you, everyone! I have felt such a sense of connection as I’ve read so many of them. bhbardo, what a lovely meditation. I love the universalist perspective you champion. In my own life, I reach for a similar philosophy. Beautifully stated.
Brad D, I was so intrigued by the way you expressed this “It’s just there. It surrounds me and my family.” I know you meant that and experience it in an inert way, but I wondered about how the Church continues to provide the schema for my life in ways that go below the conscious level for me. I plan to hold my current professional role for, probably, another three years, so five years in total, and I can’t think of that number without “the tenure of a bishop” neurons firing in my head. That’s a small example, but if I go looking hard, the Church just being there and surrounding everything is everywhere.
Breached Whale, you are my people. Especially this: “I am culturally a Mormon and that identity colors every aspect of my life. I do not want to hurt my wife or her family or my believing siblings or destroy relationships with my believing friends. It can be a very lonely place to be. Thank you to you all that participate in this forum.” I think that in my real life my staying and being articulate about the reasons has made others feel less alone on their journey. Thank you for doing that for me with your comment.
JLM, I really appreciated your comment and others’ advice about the TR. I waffled a lot about renewing mine about a year ago. I ended up doing it for reasons that have nothing to do with any eagerness to go to the temple. And I’m almost positive I won’t be doing it again. But I’m with the others–you do what is pragmatically necessary and don’t feel a moment’s guilt or unease about it. Congrats on the gay daughter! I think having a queer child is at least as cool as having an athletic or a smart one, or loads of other things we congratulate parents for.
lpf43, yep. Ditto. 🙂
Anna, being that supportive space for your daughter and her wife–I love that so much. It’s inspiring. But I am deeply sorry for your loss. Thank you for the thoughtful comment. I am working my way through processing what you’ve written. Neurodiverse people are some of my favorite people, but wow, we neurotypicals have not created a friendly world for y’all. And our church experience in particular is HELL for many of the neurodiverse people I love.
17RRider, what a good bishop. So grateful for that perspective.
grizzerbear55, thank you for those kind words. I hear you. The Church takes SO MUCH. So much. And it treats it as a feature, instead of an obligation. I don’t like it.
Jack Hughes, thanks for your nod to the title. When Jesus asks the question in John 6, I see him as engaging in an established pedagogy that is, to this day, a feature of Jewish culture… questioning as the point. And for a minute Peter plays ball “To whom shall we go?” But then Peter shuts the dialogue down. I wonder sometimes if “No Lord! You’re amazing!” is really what Jesus was after. Maybe. But certainly the Church isn’t interested in the dialogue. I agree with you; that’s abundantly clear.
Hedgehog, I think it’s healthy to question leadership. To me, it’s part of what it means to sustain a leader.
Instereo, your experience is an interesting case study. I was raised (very!) orthodox, but I didn’t have kids until my mid 30s and had only two. But as is clear from my post, I was already quite unorthodox by my 20s. When I compare my life to the lives of the women my age who followed a more traditional culturally Mormon path? Well, to be honest, I’d say everyone has their struggles and their joys.
Chadwick, missions. I never served one myself. But I went along for my parents’ ride as a teenager. It was tough (but in very different ways than it would be for an actual missionary, and easier overall), but wow did it give me so much. I put my BYU education in the positive column too, but I’d never send either of my kids there, and I get the sense it’s not the same place I enjoyed in the early aughts.
AdamL, the authenticity piece. A lot of the people I admire who have left point to that as one of the biggest wins. They just don’t feel the need to censor, or hedge, or hide, or equivocate, or be anything other than what they are. Also, given that you are a self-identified introvert AND a product of Mormon culture, I think your project of taking up your space as a vocal advocate for the othered is especially admirable. I love that.
I don’t think congratulations are in order for having a gay child. I wouldn’t congratulate someone for having a blue eyed, or tall, or freckled, or autistic, or 6-toed, or deaf, or big boned, or math gifted, or whatever else lucky or unfortunate trait a person may be born with due to how the parents generic codes happened to combine. It just is. And I love and support her for who she is now and for who she chooses to be in the future, as I do all my children.
JLM, that’s a beautiful attitude to have, and perhaps that is the thing deserving of congratulations.
Years ago, a dear friend told me that his son had come out to him and his wife as trans. The first thing to come out of my mouth, before I could even think, was “Congratulations!” And I immediately second-guessed it. “What a weirdo thing to say to somebody about a fact of who his son is,” I grumbled to myself.
Years later my friend told me how much that response had meant to him.
Maybe the thing to celebrate isn’t the queerness itself (although maybe it is) but the attitudes of parents like you and my friend that it make it easier for their kids to be who they are.
After several years of faking it, I am going to let my temple recommend lapse/expire. It feels monumental. OTOH they still need me to play the organ on Sundays.
Margie, I’d like to thank you for saying you want nonbinary folks to comment. I felt personally seen and invited.
Even before you posted this I’d been thinking about how there’s something different about our generation that’s probably at least partially responsible for our children leaving the Church in greater numbers, and after a long reflection I think that it’s that kids are taught more to think for themselves and to make their own choices instead of blind obedience and tradition.
I’ve put my money where my mouth is on that one. When one of my children decided not to attend, I stayed home with her when she was too young to stay home by herself. I’m pretty sure she’s queer at this point, even though she hasn’t figured that out for herself yet, and we recently read Maybe Tomorrow I’ll Know together, and she just doesn’t understand why the pastor and his wife in that book are so homophobic and transphobic. I’m glad she dodged that bullet.
My personal connection to the Church is a bit complicated, but my bishop considers me to be active.
Hi Chet, I am, I think, right there with you on both counts. My congregation wouldn’t have an organist without me either (which kind of sucks for them as I’m better than no organist–but only barely). And while I probably could answer the recommend questions “correctly” and feel 100% okay about that, do I really want to? Increasingly, the answer is no.
Former Nonbinary Sunbeam, I am glad that you commented! I do think we are teaching kids to think differently. And I think they care even more deeply than our generation did about doing the right thing, the good thing. There have been so many examples, like yours, in the comments thread of parents doing right by their kids. It’s so encouraging!
I do think people are raising children differently now. I think of how much has changed from when I was a teen to now when my grandchildren are teens through young adults, and yes, how we are raising children has changed. The WWII generation raised us boomers to be obedient with a great deal of respect for our elders and leaders. And all leaders had to be straight cis white rich males. It was very much that all leaders had to be straight cis white rich males—they WERE “the establishment”.
Some of the boomer generation rebelled and became hippies and fought “the establishment” which was that automatic respect for our elders and the hustle after money and more money. Hippies were for “free love” which was to take the shame and obligation of marriage from sex, with its subjugation of women. But it also meant acceptance of being LGB….well maybe not all the way to T because that was still weird. People were equal and loved. But of course that ran into problems when sex produced babies, so eventually most hippies had to join the establishment.
Of course, hippies were not the only group fighting “the establishment. Blacks, women, gays, all organized. I guess the oppressed groups resented the straight cis white guys prosperity that was so obvious in the 1950s, because that prosperity was only for the straight white men.
Several movements started in the late 1960s, civil rights, LGBT acceptance, feminist, as well as the white hippies that just didn’t like the regimentation of “the establishment”. Of course, the church was very much against every one of these movements to make the world more fair, loving, and equal.
These movements have changed people thinking over time, so of course we are raising children not to think like that WWII generation did.
But with its very OLD, pre boomer leaders, the church is still “the establishment.”
Hi Anna,
The generational issue is big. I know it’s been spun as a feature instead of a bug. And sure, yeah, with age (if we do it right) comes perspective and some wisdom.
But.
I’ve outed myself as a relatively youngish person. But I taught my first college class when I was twenty-one, younger than some of my students. And it was great! For years, I was able to relate to my students in a way that really worked for all of us. Until I realized, in my thirties, that ship had sailed. I try to never forget, when I’m talking to the average student (at my school they’re in their early 20s), that we do not have the same concerns, experience, or preoccupations. But it’s tough. The ease that was there when I was “one of them” is totally gone.
Now imagine I’m 88 instead of 44. There’s a reason why people retire. Or should, anyway.