Mother May I

“So Mom, I was making out with this guy last night-”

“Well that’s nice honey, but did you know his last name?”

This is a common exchange between my mother and I.  No, I’m not a huge slut but my mother likes to tease me about how I have on occasion locked lips with a stranger. A NCMO(nick-moe) as Mormons say. It was never more than kissing but I thought I was soooo bad.  Now I have actually seen a real life penius and promtly ran into a bathroom from it,  I’ve realized I was small potatoes in the sexual veggie garden. Or should I say small carrots. 

It’s rather strange for a mother and daughter to be this close.  Ever since I was a child I have told my mother everything.  She really has been my best friend.  Every heart ache, every bumped knee, every time I peed the bed.  (I’m 26 but accidents happen) When I started to even question the church I would stamp out that fire because of my mommy.

When my older sister left the church and it hurt my mother deeply.  One day I remember my mother was almost in tears.  She asked me if she had done something wrong.  If it was her fault that she left the church. People say that if your child leaves the church, well then it is the parents fault.  My love for my mother kept me fighting to believe.

When I had my Mormon Mental Breakdown my mother was the one who encouraged me to come home and get help. She got me to the metal hospital where I could finally talk about Mormonism without worrying if Joseph Smith would hear me.  I realized that one thing was keeping me stuck in the church.

“But you cannot live your life for your mom,” my therapist said, “You have to make your own choices and hope your mother will respect that.”

“but I love her so much. How can I do this to her?”

“You’re not doing anything to her by leaving.  You have to live your life for you not for her.”

“But I’m not a bad person. If I leave she will be so upset and think I’m a bad person.  But it’s not like…I..,” I was going to say murdered anyone, but I was in a group therapy with some people who had very dark pasts. So I lighted it. “It’s not like I murdered a puppy!”

“My father murdered a puppy in front of me when I was child,” Said a tormented soul.

I usually felt bad in group because my life really was so much better than the other unfortunate souls in the room.  My parents loved me and did not shoot puppies in front of me.  My mother loves me and wants the best for me.  She would do and often does everything for her children.  I was a Gym with my mother.  I had brought a book with me without even thinking.  It was called No Man Knows My history. Before I could hide the book it fell out of my hands. My mother saw it before I could scramble it back into my sweater.   Her eyes caught fire.

“This is very famous Ant-Mormon literature. What are you doing with this?”

I decided to play dumb.  “Oh gee…really.  I saw it at the library and I figured I would give it a read. Have you read it mom?”

“Well no, but when I joined the church I remember it was on the black list. The missionaries warned me not to read it. Stay away.” Said Mommy

“But the author is an accredited historian. Are you sure it is (sigh) Anti-Mormon.”

“Oh yes.  She is a notorious Ant-mormon.” Said Mother Dear

“I read she was the prophet’s niece and was given all sorts of access to Mormon documents and that she loved the church until…look Elder Uchdorf told us to question the church and that is what I’m doing.  There is nothing wrong with that,” I asserted

“That’s fine but don’t read that.  I will help you find some books about Joseph Smith that are not so bias.”

“Okay,” I regretfully shrugged “That book was really long anyway.  I didn’t really want to read it.”

The next night I came home from work.  I flipped on the light in my room.  The book Rough Stone Rolling was sitting on my bed. This was the church’s answer to No man knows. I love my mommy.  We are unnaturally close.  I secretly hoped my mother would be by my side

thru this.  I hoped I could tell her everything.    Now I understand why some people don't tell there parents everything.  Now is my moment of truth. I have to let myself become myself despite years of prosecution.  I was standing on a rough stone.  Just waiting for it to plummet down the hill. Clearly I need to be more careful around  my mom.  Something I have never had to do.