The Princess and the Penis

New York City. A vibrant cascade of hard steel and neon lights.  Yes, the apartment I lived in was small, and the city smelled of urine and boiled fish eyes but this city…oh heaven.  Every night there was a new adventure, every week a new Broadway show, and every Sunday a new reminder that I would die alone. The ratio from Mormon girls to Mormon boys was 20 to 1.  I thought about dating outside the faith but all those horror stories of falling in love with a non-member.  Most of all I was afraid of Sex.  Sex is a horrible tool Non-Mormon men use to ensnare woman into emotional traps.  Men outside the church are unfeeling sex monsters.  No, he would have to be a Mormon. 

So when one of my best Mormon friend told me he loved me I was thrilled…sort of.  He was the Pillsbury Doughboy.  Pudgy, food science major at BYU, and he was a millionaire.  I was not attracted to him but he was my best friend.  He accepted my testimony though it was lacking.   He lived in Utah but called me constantly.  When he told me he had feelings for me I said, “I’m in New York. Good luck.” He did not need luck, just a few thousands of dollars.  

He hopped a jet to see me and he swept me off my feet.  We went to art museums, Broadway shows. He took me to a restaurant that was considered one of world’s best. It cost over 500 bucks for the two of us. 


“What will you have to drink madam?”, Snooty waiter

“Oh water.” I said

“Excellent choice, we have six verities of water for you tonight. The Spring Apple with just a hint of basil, the mountain crisp with fresh ice and rose, The house tap infused with cucumber and...” the list went on.

After I finished my 24k Gold Flake cake, we kissed for first time.  He was a bad kisser.  Oily skin, tired easily. He also had never used tongue before and felt guilty.  Physical attraction would come right?  That was what I was told.  Friendship is the most important part isn’t it?  He was the sweetest man I had ever knew. He made me feel safe and understood. He went above boyfriend duty. One day I texted him I was sick.  A few minutes later he had a full meal deliver to my door.  I was his princess and he was showing me the world.  Took me to Disney Land, Portland, San Francisco, promised me much more if I married him. I did fall for him and the kissing did improve slightly.

I told him I struggled with church and he said that was okay.  I had never told a man I loved that before. He would help me. This man was such a good Mormon boy.  I struggled to keep up with his spiritual demands.  The magic carpet ride slowly turn into a slimy bath mat.  I loved him and he loved me but...

“Well it’s true, I would love you more if you had served a mission.” He said

“But I couldn’t have. I was engaged when I was 21.  I prayed and I felt God tell me not to go.” I said

“Yeah,” he said “I think you would be a better mother to our children if you had. I’m worried because your family converted to the church. My family has pioneer heritage. I’m just not sure your family is good enough.”

I had to be good enough!  I felt that this man was my last chance to be loved. After all love does not exist outside of the church, only Sex.

 The Doughboy asked me to leave New York City and move to Utah so we could be married.  I tried to get excited about my future of being completely dependent on him. That was what he and his family expected of me.  I was glad I would finally get to have Sex. I would have to work on being attracted to him sexually as resemble a Cream Puff but I did love him. That would come.  When I was in Utah the shit hit the fan.  Unspeakable shit. I left him flat. I lay in bed and cried for days.  I stopped eating.  I ignored his calls. 


I realized something while I was wasting away.  No man could ever hurt me the way he did.  I can’t think of a scenario where I would ever be this sick from broken trust. He was Mormon?  I was not good enough? I was so insecure because I did not have a perfect testimony.(see: Perfect Problem)  Suddenly I was not so afraid of those awful Non-Mormons. Sex?…I almost married the Pillsbury Doughboy knowing I was not attracted to him. I wanted to have Sex and almost sold my soul for it.  Maybe Sex before marriage is not a bad thing? I want to be attracted physically to my husband and I want to know him in every way.  Trust?…I never should have trusted a man who judged my self-worth on my lack pioneer heritage. Maybe Trust has less to do with a person’s faith and more to do with who they are. Love?…Can I find Love with Sex and Trust outside of marriage? outside of the church?  More importantly can I Trust myself to Love again?