In My Defense

I've talked about the whole light-bulb incident a few times in the past, and I just want to be clear with everyone, that the incident actually has nothing to do with my leaving Mormonism.

Well I guess that's not entirely true...

I'd been on my way out for a while, however I'd been trying to find a way to stay in, just for the sake of my family. The incident resulted in two very distinct realizations. First, that I could not stay in the Church without being subjected to the crap they like to dish out, and second, I was now ready to leave. That was the day I made the decision that my name will be removed from their records, and now it's just a matter of time.

I came to that realization just seconds after a phone call from a friend. I suspect he was involved in the incident, more than he let on, but something he said just struck me. When he called, he said his reason for calling, was to let me know that "The Bishop had my back". He then went on to elaborate how the Bishop had defended me in my absence earlier that day.

Just in case you don't know the story... I used a light bulb in a talk at Church as a visual aid. The bishop tugged my trousers and asked me to put it away. It was an uncomfortable and IMHO unnecessary incident, and it should have ended there.

2 hours later, as the men convened in their usual meeting, a discussion was started about the Bishop's actions. The problem with Mormons is that they cannot accept, or at least allow anyone else to think that they are anything other than 100% obedient to their leaders, and so it basically turned into a huge dump on Mike session. The bishop (Who should really have shut the whole thing down before it got to that point), tried unsuccessfully to convince everyone that it was just a mistake, and that I was a good person, but they weren't having any of it. I suspect it was actually my friend who eventually got things calmed down.

But that was what really got me... The fact the he had to defend me against other people. People who are supposed to all be part of the same ward/church family. A place where members are supposed to support and help each other. One whiff of blood and a massive feeding frenzy erupted. It was an orgy, and I was the main dish.

Let's switch tacks here... You know I'm struggling with what to do about my parents. We haven't talked in 18 months now, and I'm not sure how to handle it. I've considered a letter, but I'm not sure how to write it, or what to say. Throughout the entire I process, I've tried to be very civil and understanding of their feelings. I haven't always been successful, but I have really, really tried.

They haven't.

Our family spent the weekend camping in the mountains, at a place called Midway. It's where the cross-country skiing events for the 2002 Salt Lake City Winter Olympics were held. I had a couple of races. A duathlon, a triathlon, and a trail run, all of which I had to complete to receive the "BAD ASS" award. I got it, and I'm paying the price now!

Anyway, camping with 5 kids, especially when your husband is off trying to prove something to himself is not an easy task, and thankfully, my brother and his wife came along for the trip to help out.

I haven't talked much about my brother here on this blog, because I don't want to drag him into all of this. He probably knows more about both sides of this whole situation that anyone else in the family. The rest of my siblings kind of know something is up, but they've all been fed the lies about how I don't want to be a part of the family anymore, and I'm sure are plenty of other fabricated reasons given them by my parents. None of which are true, mind you!!

My brother is still a TBM, but he's proof that not all TBM's are assholes (Emily - you're proof as well!). He still treats me the same as he always has, and is just a stand up guy.

I hate that perhaps he finds himself in the middle though, and I don't want him to be in that position. All the same though, I do appreciate him.

He and Mrs Koda got to talking over the weekend, as I was off running around in the mountains, and the conversation ended up touching on the problems between my parents and me. I won't go into a whole lot of what they talked about, but as in the past, he mentioned that he just tries to help them understand that I'm still a good person.

It was bothering me as I went to sleep last night. Why would my parents need someone to try and convince them that I'm a good person?!? Do they really think that little of me?

They think I have a rebellious spirit and who knows what other fantastic notions they've conjured up about me.

The truth of the matter is, that while I may like to experiment with boundaries a little, I was a damn good kid. Baptized at 8, Deacon's Quorum President, Teachers Quorum President and Seminary Graduate.

Up through my disaffection from the Church, I had never smoked, and never experimented with drugs, alcohol or even coffee and tea. I had always paid 10% of my income (gross income as well) to the Church, and always followed the laws of the Church with exactness. In the entire span of my teenage years, I think the only thing I ever did really wrong (At least in the eyes of the Church) was a relationship with a girlfriend that got very physical - and would have been even better had I not been overcome with guilt for a couple of years as a result.

At one point my mother actually accused me of using her for sex - although I think here exact words were... "If I find out that you're just using this young girl, I'll never forgive you!" Truth be told the whole relationship was a mess at that point, largely due to my parents meddling (She wasn't a Mormon), but that is neither here nor there.

I saved, sacrificed, and ended up serving 2 years as a full-time Mormon missionary, returning with honor and all of that - And did I mention that the couple of thousand dollars which I should have had in the bank when I got back had mysteriously vanished as well?

I put off my education to get married in the temple and start raising a family, just like the prophets said I should, and I even went to work for the Church itself.

Some of those decisions have come back to bite me in the ass, but every single on of them I did, because it was the "right" thing to do, and I wanted to both do the right thing, and try and do what I thought my parents wanted me to do.

I have tried so hard for my entire life to try and make them proud of me, and yet it seems that all of that effort has led me here... The place where my little brother has to try and convince them that I'm still a good person.

I think that like trying to argue religion or politics, I need to come to the realization that nothing I can do will change perception they have of me as a completely screwed up human being. Nothing I can say or do, will ever convince them I'm worthy of being treated as a decent person. Unless of course I totally renounce all my doubts in Mormons, and grovel at their feet, begging for their forgiveness for my many, many errors.

And you know what... Even if I do that, sometime in the future I'll screw up again in their eyes, and they'll bring the whole thing right back up again... "See", they'll say, "Remember when you had to grovel at our feet and beg for forgiveness? You're still a screwed up little punk and still have to fight and work for our love. And you're still not good enough."

They've suggested too that I seek out a mental health professional as well. Perhaps a psychologist would be able to break through the barriers that I've put up, and convince me that I am indeed the unworthy little turd, so reliant on their approval, that I should beg and plead for them to accept me back into their lives, and accept that I deserve and need their abuse.

Sometimes you need to look at a situation and try and remove the emotion though... What if I were a psychiatrist and I met someone like me...

I'm not perfect by any means - and if you have doubts, I could probably compile an entire list of things I do wrong, and Mrs. Koda and all the Koda kids could probably add to the list as well. I'm paranoid, obsessive compulsive in some things and a bit of a workaholic. A lot of which I picked up from them, or in the case of the paranoia, has come as a result of my wonderful Mormon heritage.

But as a person, I'm OK. In fact, I'm better than OK, I'm trying and I'm headed in the right direction. I'm a good person and that's really what it comes down to.

I'm a good person! I'm a DAMN GOOD PERSON!!

So if I was the psychiatrist, looking at my situation and being asked for advice about what to do...

"RUN LIKE HELL MAN!! RUN LIKE HELL"

I don't hate my parents, as they have asserted that I do. I don't even dislike them. They did a decent job raising me, and sacrificed a lot to try and get me through to adulthood. They're human too, and like me and every other human, they've made mistakes in the past.

All that aside though, I cannot realistically see them moving past this screwed up mindset that my leaving Mormonism makes me a bad person, although I suspect they thought that way before they discovered my disaffection. My quitting the Church just confirmed it all, and gave them something concrete to finally nail me on.

In a way I feel sorry for them, but as much as I wish I could do something that would help break them out of their mistaken perception of who I am, it's just not worth it.

Please don't cry one tear for me
I'm not afraid of what I have to say
This is my one and only voice
So listen close, it's only for today

I just saw Halley's Comet shooting
Said "why you always running in place?"
Even the man in the moon disappeared
Somewhere in the stratosphere

Tell my mother, tell my father
I've done the best I can
To make them realize
This is my life
I hope they understand
I'm not angry, I'm just saying
Sometimes goodbye is a second chance.