My Christmas Star

“YEE GAUT A GRET PAIR A TITTITYS THERE!” yelled an inebriated Scotsman, “MIND IF I GIVE UM A SQUEEZZZZZZ?”

What could be better than three men in kilts? They were bagpipers who had been kicked out of a wedding for getting in a fight with the bridesmaids.  Roberta and I were really getting the full Scotland experience. I could not stop laughing as Roberta awkwardly tried to maneuver away from their drunken hands.

It was on my trip to Europe that I first began to voice my doubts about the church. (See: To the Vatican) After exploring the castle that inspired Hogwarts in Harry Potter we decided to wander the enchanted streets of Edinburgh.  We happened upon a small vender selling necklaces.   One of them in particular caught my eye.  I loved the swooping design and how it exploded out of the center.   I asked the vender what it meant. “Parsonal groowth” he said.   SOLD!

And have I ever grown.  I wear that necklace almost every day.  It is my new CTR ring.  To me it stands for “You can do it!”  Leaving the church is not at all easy.  One day at work I made a comment about how difficult the past year had been, and my friendly tattooed co-worker said “This is the year you left the church.  Come on! This is the best year of your life!”   

I wanted to bust out laughing, but I settled for a sarcastic smile.  Those who have never left would think that.   The truth is the first year you leave the church is HELL. It’s like waking up one day in the body of a tiny Asian man and realizing you are on a Japanese game show.  You don’t know the rules and everyone is laughing at you while you are repeatedly being punched in the crotch.  

Over Christmas break I once again found myself heading back to the mothership…Salt Lake City.  I sort of look forward to being around my own kind, it’s somewhat relaxing.  It is tiring having to constantly explain yourself to people who are unfamiliar with the LDS culture.    “How have you never had wine?” “Wait…you’re a virgin?” “Coffee! You are kidding me!”  My most recent disconnect was when I told my co-worker how I felt uncomfortable sleeping in the same bed as a man.  He laughed at me, saying “Why? You just sleep. Put your head on the pillow.”

Seeing my family for Christmas was slightly stressful but mostly wonderful.   I’m out of the closet now.  And my older sister Jacky has finally started talking to me about her story of leaving the church. For the last 8 months she has been avoiding the conversation fearing she would get the blame for my leaving.  I was hurt but I understood.  Her circumstances were very *cough* public.  She did not want to relive it.  It was nice to talk openly with my sister about why she left.  We all assumed it had to do with her being on MTV.  Actually what really pushed her out of the church was having a daughter.  She did not want her daughter to grow up in a religion that is sexist.

I agree that the church has sexist ideas for both men and woman.  However, some people rise above it.   My darling little sister Steph is a BYU anomaly.  She dated her BF for over a year before she finally decided to marry him.  She did not worry when he was unable to finish his degree.  She is a physicist.  She just graduated with her undergrad and accepted a job making 60,000 a year.  That’s right! My little sister is the tits! But she is also the sweetest most loving little 21 year old I know.  I have often talked about my magic necklace from Scotland.  I told her how it symbolized my growing up and leaving the church.  I may even get a tattoo of it someday.   When I opened my Christmas present from Steph my eyes filled with tears.  She had ordered this box from Europe.  She told me she was proud of me for finding my way.  

Miss. Independent

There is a song I used to listen to called “God Bless the American House Wife”.  A catchy quirky ditty glorifying the role of mommy home maker.  Being a stay at home mom is a tough job.  I have seen the sacrifices my sister has made for her family.  It’s I life I someday may adopt…but not now.  Honestly I never looked forward to it. Yet a year ago I found myself humming this tune over and over again.  It was my battle cry, my mantra, my imposed destiny.  My dream to become a theatrical agent was dwindling fast.   As I watched this dream get euthanized another was artificially inseminated into my brain.   

Pillsbury called me every single day.  He was there for me, emotionally  available and he appeared to love me for who I was.  I trait hard to find for a Mormon girl who watched some R rated movies and occasionally swore.   I was 26.  An old maid.  And no matter how compassionate, or selfless, or  trustworthy a girlfriend I was, I was not good enough.  A “gamble” for any Mormon man.  So when things got more serious with Pillsbury I just let it happen.  I gave up my dream of being a savvy working bitch and traded it in for the responsibility of being Pillsbury’s in home assistant. He and his family told me upfront what was expected of me.  And I agreed to it.  I figured this was the closest thing to love a girl like me deserved.   It was only after I moved to UT that Pillsbury informed me I was not good enough.  I didn’t serve a mission.  My family did not have pioneer heritage.   And he worried that I may “someday drink alcohol.”

As a Mormon woman it is the expectation that you will not get a job and your husband will support the family.  My mother was a working mommy and I saw her constantly judged for it.  But I always looked up to her.  At parties while the stay at homes were discussing different way to clean my mom was talking shop with the boys.  I knew I wanted to have a career and I am proud that I kept that mentality throughout my time at BYU.  Did I lose out on some dates? Of course, but did I really want to be with a man who expected me to stay at home. … Hmmmm…I guess I sort of forgot about that.... 

 

Though it has been a hard comeback I have re-discovered my independence.  Finding a job has been tricky.  A few weeks ago I did what I do best.  Went out to make friends and network.   When I got to the party I met a guy who seemed rather impressed by my gift of gab.  We exchanged E-mails and less than a week later I was in a second interview for an impressive sales job.  Devin had really put a good word in for me.  He seemed to think I had what it took.  My darling little sister called me to congratulate me.

“Thanks Steph,” I said downtrodden, “I’m a little confused.  This guy doesn’t even know me.  I don’t know why he is sticking his neck out for me.”

“Ummmm…because you are amazing!  I have always felt like I could never live up to you.”  This coming from a girl who was almost accepted to Harvard’s physics program.

“I just don’t know why he is fighting for me to get the job,” I said.

“Because you deserve to be fought for!  You moved to NYC and started your own company.  You walk into a room and everyone wants to be your friend.  In high school people referred to me as ‘Emmas little sister’ till I graduated.   And in collage EVERYONE knew you!  It was so funny watching you on campuses.  You would carry a full deep conversation with someone and as soon as they walked away you would look at me and say “I have no idea who that was.”  You have a gift for getting people to trust you and that is sales.  Have some faith in yourself.  You are worth it.”

You have to fight for what you want.  Sometimes the battles are in your head.  I nailed the interviews and I got the job.  On my first day they showed me around.  I met my co-workers including a very friendly tattooed man.  Then they showed me my desk.  My Desk! No one here expected me to cook and clean.  There was a sentimental moment where I looked at my desk and thought “I’m finally doing it”.

Lady Masturbatetor

Every woman who has left the church should buy herself a vibrator. Period.   I know it is fighting to walk into a Pornography Store but what is more frightening is how very little you know about your body.  It wasn’t until I was a Jr. in collage at BYU that I even knew what an orgasm was.   I had heard the term and loosely associated it with a man’s ding dong.  Then one night I was making out with my boyfriend and something happened.  All my clothes were on.  No inappropriate touching but he was kissing my ear.  My "EAR G-spot" I called it.  I later learned that you can’t just call any place you like being kissed a G-spot.  It’s a real spot downstairs. This feeling kept coming…up…and up…and up…and OH MY GOODNESS!

 

The next day I told my best friend Roberta what had happened.  Perplexed we decided to call my sister Jacky who was married and also left the church.  We explained what happened.  My sister almost blew the speaker out of my phone

“Are you telling me you do not know what an orgasm is?!” She bellowed.

“I know!” I said, “it’s when a guys penis gets hard…Wait do woman have orgasms? I thought you needed a penis? ”

“Oh my God!  Are you joking. Please tell me that my 24 yr old sis is joking…YES! Yes woman have orgasms! How do you not know this?  You need to masturbate!  Do you even know how to masturbate?  Okay watch some porn.  I’m sending you a link.”

Roberta and I laughed at how ridiculous Jacky sounded on the phone.  Telling us to masturbate and watch porn.  Oh crazy Hollywood Jacky!  

Fast forward three years, and one nervous breakdown, and I am Lobster faced giggling in a sex shop. I felt like Indiana Jones adventuring into cave of ancient artifacts.  You would not believe the strange objects they had in there.  Special pillows, jelly’s, and handcuffs.  They had strappy gizmos a plenty.  Naked pictures. Dildos, vibrates, and something called “anal beads”.  The odd thing to me was seeing cute little animals fastened to each vibrator.  They had butterflies, bunnies, and dolphins all ready and waiting to nibble at your G-spot.  I’m sorry, but I’m not sure putting a mangy rabbits on my clit is going to help me relax?!  I was laughing and hiding my face behind my hands.  Needless to say I left that store know less about sex then when I walked in. 

I bought one  6 dollar vibrator.  And, let me tell you, I got my money’s worth.   Over the next 4 months I went through 5 vibrators.  Some nights I just could not sleep until I got off.  One I had found  fully packaged in my mother’s room.  Someone at her work had given her a gag gift knowing she was a Mormon.  I stole it and burnt that sucker out in less than a month.  When it died I was so sad.  I went to look it up online for a replacement.  Turned out it was a 100 bucks!  No wonder it was such a good fuck!

  Okay Okay I’m not trying to be crass or gross you out.  My point is orgasms are fun, and an important part of growing up.  If you are like me and have decided not to wait till you say “I do”(…er I guess Mormons just say “Yes Joseph smith”)  you need to understand how your own body works.  Then you will know what to expect.  And ladies, level the playing field!  See men can jack off with their hands, but for us woman it is a little more complicated.  It took me a month WITH a vibrator to understand my body.  How to relax and where I liked it best.  Sometimes I felt like I was just mowing the lawn down there.  Knowledge is power, and boy does it feel good.  

O Brother, Where Art Thou?

I have begun slowly broken to siblings that I may not be riding the Mormon spaceship to the celestial kingdom to great our leader Eloham.  I have had to tailor my approach carefully with each of my siblings. It’s important to consider how they will react and act accordingly.  Jacky, of course, was excited for me to jump onto the heathen Death star.  Next I would tell my brother Danny.  Danny was AP on his mission and has always been a good example. I look up to him. One time I remember sitting next to Danny in church as the sacrament went by. 

“Snack time!” I thought.  But Danny did not take any bread.  

“Danny.” I said “What the heck? Why didn’t you take the bread?”

Danny obviously looked uncomfortable. “SHHHHH” he said

"It’s free bread!  It was sitting right there in front of you.” I laughed. 

“I can’t.” He said

I sat for a second confused, “Why not? You just pick it up and eat it.  You on the Atkins diet?”

I laughed at his silly pass on free food.  It wasn’t until later that I learned about ‘Godly Sorrow.’  Danny, I guess, had done something bad and had been forbidden to take sacrament.  He had probably masturbated or seen a picture of a woman in her underwear. Now, looking back, I feel bad that I had mocked him. I’m sure he had felt bad enough. It’s sick that the church asks people to publically acknowledge when they have sinned.

When I told Danny I had no desire to marry in the temple he took it personally. “Why? Don’t you want to raise your family Mormon?” he asked. I replied that I would raise my family with similar ethical goals like honesty and charity but that I would raise them outside the bounds of Mormonism. That did not seem to be good enough for him and he continued his interrogation, “Don’t you like the way Mom and Dad raised us?  Don’t you like being Mormon?”  I awkwardly navigated this question by simply explaining how I liked the church but I did not feel it fit me.  He was bemused but at least he knew.

My brother Jacob is a bit of a sad story.  I like to think the church is good for him but as a 31 year old who has never kissed a girl it is hard to see the light.  Jacob refuses to date outside the church tho his personality and humor are seen as “edgy”.  He really wants to be married but has realized that it will never happen for him. Sure! Makes complete sense for a attractive 30 year old man to give up on finding love.  I have done everything I could to try and save him from his celibate life.  I have asked him questions about the Book of Abraham and Joseph’s wives. But instead of answering me he just tells me I should not leave or I will be punished to Outer Darkness.(See: Sleeping with the enemy)   I never actually plan to tell Jacob I’m leaving but I did drink a big old beer in front of him.  He may not have figured out the picture from BOA, but the beer I drank painted a pretty clear picture for myself.

What about my darling little sister. The one who recently got married while I counted cracks in the sidewalk waiting outside the temple. (see: Off White Wedding)  After her wedding she came home to visit the family. Although she loves her husband, she was missing the freedom that comes with being 20 and single.  The first night she was home I felt sick.  We have always been close. We play guitar together and watch Youtube and swap kissing stories. She did not know I was leaving. I remembered how painful it was for me when Jacky left.  Stephie has always looked up to me and I felt I would disappoint her.  I had to tell her.  I needed to know that she still thought I was a good example.  I came into her room and before I spoke was in tears.  We talked openly.  She told me she still loved me and that I was and always would be a good example.  Then she shared this song with me, a song I have listened to at least 100 times now.  

The Christians and the Pagans

Count Your Many Blessings

It is that time of year.  Time to count our many blessing.  As we struggle with the “What if…”s and “Why?” and “How could they…” I have decided to take a moment to count the good the church has provided in my life.  I know this can be hard.  Especially when you are in the thick of leaving.  But If you spend too much time indulging in negative diatribes you are really only hurting yourself.  When leaving the church perspective can make or break you.  Look at it as an hilarious adventure of awkward silence and sexual blunders!  I encourage everyone who reads this blog to think of at least one thing the church provided for you.  If you feel comfortable leave a comment.  I would love to read them.

Kick Ass Childhood.  My childhood and the church are so interconnected I cannot separate them.  Growing up Mormon made me feel different and special.  It also provided me with a place to rebel and sharpen my comedic skills.  I made it my Job in class to entertain everyone.  (See: Poop Monster) As a result I have performed in front of thousands of people.   It has given me a unique perspective for my stand-up comedy routine.  

My sister Jacky who left before me.  Jacky called me yesterday and told me she wants to be more of a support to me during this time.  She has distanced herself because she was afraid the family would blame her.  Her fear is somewhat exaggerated but I understand.  She was publicly flogged by members of the church just for being on MTV. (See: Parent Trap)

Dating Rejuvenation/Extended Childhood. I've been hurt a few times romantically. Leaving the church has washed away my bitter cat lady mentality.  Every relationshit that haunted is inconsequential.  All of those men were Mormon.  Now as I date I have the mentality of a 17 year old who has never been hurt.  I also have the sexual experience of a 17 year old. I was able to live in that magical adolescent world until I was 26. A world where the word "SEX" makes you giggle and boys still have cooties. (see: The "S" Talk)  

A Super Family.  My family is exceptionally close.  Some of my best memories with my brothers and sisters were suffering through those 3 hours at church.  One time we kids reenacted the entire opening number from the musical CATs while we were supposed to be in class.  When my world fell apart my family picked up the pieces. My mother has always supported me (see: Mommy Doughter)  We are a family together forever.

A Practically Free Education.  BYU provides an excellent intellectual education an a discount for Mormons.  However, I was never a fan of the religion classes and lack of diversity.   I had my share of shit times but over all I had a college experience like no other.  (see: Drinking and Games)

My Friend Seth.  I honestly don’t know where I would be without this guy.  I was rocketing on a path of self-loathing and bitterness but he kicked my butt.  He gave me perspective and a new trajectory.  He helped me let go and move on.  I still bother him from time to time and it is always enlightening (See: Waiting for Gadot)  

  

This blog and my readers.  It is so amusing to be able to click back and see how much I have grown in the last 7 months.  Reading the comments and E-mails from you makes me feel less alone.  A few of you have even started your own blogs.  That’s GREAT!  I must give special thanks to my editor.  She is just one of my readers who offered to help me with my grammar and my creative spelling.  Unfortunately she could not edit this one.   Her new blog is  http://beautyisonlyskindeep13.blogspot.com/

My Ex-boyfriend  who was the Best Worst Thing To Happen To Me.  (see: The Princesses and the Penis) I was in deep with the church.  I didn’t believe it but I was not going anywhere.  Cognitive Dissonance baby!   When you are in like I was you need something more than a push.  Thank you Aaron for grabbing me by the hair and throwing me into the volcano.  I can never really thank him.  I’m not sure how to say nicely “You were such a bad guy you made me question everything!”   Of course it was not all his fault. I was letting him teat me that way because I wanted to get my Marriage Merritt Badge.  I was acting Mormon and not living it.  (see: The PerfectProblem).  Regardless, when I look at my future now it is my own.  There is nothing more satisfying then building your own identity. 

Monsters of Men

I was lying on the couch recovering from the massive concussion I had received from an old man who had decided not to stop at a red light. (See: Car Wreck)  Rob was coming over because he felt bad for me.  Yeah…right... As we all know, men who are not Mormon are sex addicts.  In my mind he was just playing nice in hopes that I would have sex him after I get better.   When Rob (see: sleeping with the enemy) arrived and walked in the door he was carrying an XBOX. 

“Hey sicky,” He said with a sympathetic smile “I brought you something to do while you’re sick.” 

“Wow,” I thought “He must really want to have sex with me, pretending to be so nice.”

He sifted through games and set everything up for me.  Then we got to talking.

“Guess what!?” he said “I have a girlfriend.”

I was taken aback as he told me all about his new lover.  Why was he being nice to me if he had a girlfriend? Is he hoping he could cheat on her with me? It just didn’t add up.  As we were talking an unexpected thought hesitated in brain.  What if he was just being a nice guy…? I walked him to the door and gave him a goodbye hug.   Then, after he had left, I spilled onto the couch and cried.  I was a horrible person. I would like to say it was the concussion that inspired my bitter negative judgmental thoughts.  That would be a lie.

Ever since that moment I have paid close attention to my automatic thoughts regarding non-Mormon men.  I felt sick before every casual hang out or date.  Overwhelm if I was at a party with more men then woman.  One time I was trapped in a restaurant booth with 9 non-Mormon men and only 3 non-mormon woman.  I nearly spilled a pitcher of beer trying to leap out. I had a panic attack. Thoughts I could not control.  Judgments, stereotypes, and most of all fear.  I realized that no matter how hard I tried I could not deprogram myself from the Idea that EVERY SINGLE non-Mormon man was a bad guy.  Clearly this was a job for my BFF/therapist.  I told her about my subconscious bias, that if you set a mormon man with loaded pistol in front of me and a non-Mormon with a puppy I would still choose the Mormon man. 

As I was talking to my BFF my mind flashed back to the one dozen non-mormon men I have interacted with.  A hobo cat calling me as I jogged through NYC saying “don’t run too much of that off!”  The “producer” I met in Harlem who wanted to make me a “star.”  I remembered the date I went on with a man who admitted to me he was actually married! (I will have to tell you about this experience in a later post.) 

Were these men my only representation of non-Mormon men?  How can I be 27 and have so few interactions?  I would talk to non-Mormon men.  For example, I interacted with them when I bought groceries, or if I bumped into one on the street, or if I wanted to tell one about the church.  Oh my God… Did I ever interact with a non-Mormon man on a personal level?  No.  Why would I?  I had my Mormon men who you could date and were so nice.  They would do nice things for you like give you a blessing or let you borrow their XBOX… 

I realized that I have been painting all non-Mormon men with the same brush you use on hobos/pimps/married sleazeballs.  By isolating myself from these men I have let stereotypes pressed on me by my church leaders, and Mormon friends sink in so deep that even a man with a beard had become a threat.  So how do I destroy the black hole in my heart?  If we have learned anything from the Syfy channel, we know that the only way out of a black hole is to light speed through it.  And so I shall. I will boldly go where this girl has never gone before. I’ll go to parties, talk to non-Mormon guys, and break down the barriers. And lastly, in the immortal words of Spock, I will “Live long and prosper.” 

Parent Trap

I remember my heathen sister came to visit. She had left the church a few years after being kicked out of BYU for being on MTV.  Jacky had held up a beer and said, “I will pay you 100 bucks to drink just one sip."

 I wouldn’t do it.

 Life in NYC was hard.  A city of 7 million people and I felt so alone.  The only people I felt I could interact with were Mormons.  I was afraid of everyone else.  I told Jacky this… she was quiet for a bit and then spoke, “I want you to be happy.  You should go online and just read ONE thing about Joseph Smith.  It will change your life.  Do it before you move across the country to marry this guy.” 

 I wouldn’t do it.

Fast forward two years and it was Jacky I called first.  I was livid.  26 years of rot falling from my mouth.  I replayed what I had learned and asked her, “How could they lie to us like this Jacky?”

She was quiet for a bit and then said “I know.”  

What else could she say?  I suddenly understood how painful it was for her living on the other side of the glass.  She was watching her family sink deeper and deeper into the quick sand.  Every time I said no to a beer, coffee or isolated myself from Non-Mormons it was a reminder to her that I was still stuck.   She told me she felt responsible, that she felt she was a bad sister for not leaving sooner.  Of course she’s thrilled that I made it out but now I look at my family and pray to the moon that they will be okay.

Telling Jacky was a celebration.   I wish everyone I told would react this way.   Telling Mom and Pa felt impossible.   I couldn’t keep putting on my Sunday dress only to change in a gas station.  One Sunday out of pure exhaustion I blurted everything out.  I had waited too long.  Like a grenade I exploded blame and anger on Joseph Smith.  I was not tactful or respectful.  My parents took it well considering I was accusing them of being brainwashed.  Later I apologized for acting “crazy”.

It was about a month later when my mother revisited the conversation.  I was able to be more diplomatic.  My parents had done a great job respecting my boundaries and I had done a great job pretending the church was not the reason I had experienced a nervous breakdown.

“So what do you think of the book of Mormon?” My mother said.

“Oh, I think Joseph wrote it,” I said flatly.

“Really?” My mother said, trying to hide her shattered heart. She then proceeded to tell me all the “facts” about the Book of Mormon that proved he could not have written it.  The same “facts” I was taught in church and in class at BYU. “You know Joseph was an uneducated man.  Son of a farmer-“

“Actually, he was very well educated.  Both his parents and sister were teachers.”  I said.

“Oh well you have just been reading Anti-Mormon literature.”

Aaaaand Stop.  I don’t want to hurt my parents so I take the “agree to disagree route”. This is called a boundary. (See: Coming Out The IKEA-Mormon Closet) My parents mean the world to me.  Though it is hard watching them give the church their retirement I try to focus on what the church has done for them.  One gift I cannot deny is that our family is very close.  Partly due to all us kids working in the family Ice-cream shop. Partly due to the TV show(tho she never would have gotten on the show if she was not Mormon).  And partly due to our commitment to love each other forever.   The good news is my parents still love me.  We don’t fight about the church and I still believe that families can be together forever.