They're Mad Because They Think We've Won

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I talked to my boyfriend's family last night on Skype. They're really fantastic and amazing people. We talked about my family and how they will react when I go home to see them in January. I told them I wasn't sure how my family would react, but I definitely wanted to avoid having another Sit-Down-Dragged-Out fight where my family forces me to explain myself. I feel like the situation is clear: I left Utah to live with my boyfriend and guess what? I'm not coming back.

My boyfriend's Dad asked how I was going to deal with my Mom. I haven't talked to her in eight months. Despite emailing my family through the family email, asking my dad every time he calls how she is, offering to help her with any projects since she's stresses out because of church {surprise}, letting her know when I'll be Skyping the family so she could be around and emailing her directly, she just ignores me. The one time she was around when I Skyped my Dad for his birthday, she refused to talk directly to me and addressed all questions to my dad to ask me.

"Why is she still mad?" his Dad asked.

"She's a very stubborn woman."

"I think she's mad because she feels like she lost. And we won. Well, not "won." But, you like us and you're not like them anymore. They've "lost." And she doesn't like that."

So here I am. In the "Lost" category.

Boyfriend and I tried explaining that while things might get better, every failure, every struggle, everything that ever goes wrong is going to be because we aren't Mormon. His mom thought that was ridiculous. How could anyone think that?

That's just the way it is.

No matter how much I win in life...

To them

I'm always lost.

- Emily

How to Be an Adult

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When B and I started to discuss medical school and moving I was slightly horrified. That is, I basically had a nervous breakdown. It took a long, hard year of evaluating and discussing and {I'm not going to lie} drama, to get me here.

As was expected there were plenty of nay-sayers. Everyone was {naturally and, I would like to think, lovingly} concerned and offered their own opinions and advice. And I mean every. one. It was ahard choice, but one I'm ultimately extremely proud of and happy with. While I know these two years of medical school aren't The Big Picture of Life as a Doctor's Significant Other and my experience is completely unique, the worries that I {and others} had turned out to be just that -- worries. Not to discount their legitimate concerns {or to say neener-neener-neener}and obviously each couple, school and family is different, but after almost six months on the Island, I want to address those worries and -most of all- say: Make your own choices. Own up to them. Listen to others' advice, but make the choice you feel comfortable with. It makes you an adult. Trust me. I'm 23 years old. And I know everything. 


#1. You'll never see B. 
Ha. Ha. Hahahahahahahaha. While most ladies I know have husbands that study at school, B studies at home. So, I see him more than I ever have. I know this will change but for now we just enjoy it.

#2. B will be too busy to hang out with you. 
B is very busy. And he does work very hard. But, he's not a jerk and we do occasionally get out of the house and do something that isn't sitting next to each other reading books. He knows when to have fun too. And by occasionally I mean pretty often.

#3. You'll be a distraction.
Thanks. I think I'm not a distraction. And so do B's grades, test scores, Honor Society Membership and Dean's List awards. I try not to be a pain in the ass. I want B to do well!!

#4. You'll be so bored. 
Hello. Beach. Dog. Island. Writing. Reading. Friends. Yes, there are times I get antsy, but I'm rarely so. miserably. BORED.

#5. What about getting a job? Money? Do you want  to be a mooch? 
Luckily, I have a writing job online. I also work on campus once a week. It's not a whole, whole bunch of money, but it does help. And I do all the regular stuff a "Housewife" would do. Laundry, Groceries, Dishes, Lunch and Dinner, Cleaning the Things...B helps too {obviously}, but if I can help him study a little better because he doesn't have to do laundry or make dinner or whatever, I'm happy to. This also falls under Not Being a Distraction and Not Being Bored. Also falls under Generally Having a Successful Relationship. Give and Take people.

#6. You don't have any friends at B's medical school.
B's school has an excellent Spouses Org where I've made friends!

#7. What if you hate it?
To which B always said, "What if you love it???" Remember what I said about being an adult? Make your own choices and live with the consequences. I could have hated any number of things I decided to do with my life. But, that's not a reason not to do something. Decide for yourself whether the risks are worth it. Happily, I love it here. Not that it's always perfect.

But it's definitely, definitely always worth it.
- Emily

Like Mother Like Daughter

Forget that! Get her a taller pair of heels. Louboutin perhaps? No? I'll take them! 

B's and my dumb roommate dropped a glass on the floor the other day. Our floors are all tile, pretty hard tile at that. Maybe marble? Whatever type of tile they are, the glass shattered across the floor. He swept up the majority of it half-assedly.

A few days go by. I'm in the kitchen making dinner, barefoot. Shoes track in a shit load of sand and it's been pretty rainy the last few days. I step over to the stove and....."Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

Mixing dinner with profanity. I am a true lady.

B looked up from his studies, concerned.

"Got a piece of glass stuck in my fooooot. I need a warm tub of water. OW!"

I went to grab a broom so I could sweet the damn floor -- properly.

B stopped filling up a bowl of water. Took the broom out of my hand.

"Go sit down, Charlotte."

I glared.

"I've seen the crazy hobble before." he said.

Charlotte is my mother.

I sat down soaking my foot while B swept up and came over to look at the glass stuck in my heel.

"Wow, you really stomped on that. It's in there pretty deep. It's small, but sharp."

He went upstairs and came back with a glove on one hand, Neosporin and a bandaid in the other. He teased out the piece of glass. Blood slowly dripped into the rag he cleaned my foot off with. I howled, because I'm a baby like that and that piece of glass was in there deep. He told me he needed to cut off the little piece of skin covering the puncture so he could properly clean it. I refused. No way, Dr. B. And don't call me my mother ever again.

I realize it though. I get all upset about people cleaning things up half way and not doing a good enough job. I catch myself wanting B to stay out of the kitchen because That's MY space. I want to slaughter The Roommates for not putting away their motherfucking dishes OR emptying the dishwasher. Just because I'm the only woman in the house does not make me the damn maid. I want to put a sign above the sink saying WASH YOUR OWN DISHES.

To be fair, they aren't filthy pigs. There aren't flies floating around our garbage and everything is generally clean. But, if there are dishes in the sink, does anyone empty the clean dishwasher? No. They pile the dishes in the sink until I empty the dishwasher. B told me, "Stop doing their dishes, Emily"

"No! It won't fucking get down otherwise!"

He looked at me like he wished I wasn't Charlotte.

"It will get done."

Ahh. Good old fashioned gender roles. They exist and are perpetuated even without The Church. How much about women staying home and cooking and cleaning was engrained in us through The Church and how much did we learn from society? Both roommates are from very traditional families. J is Asian and A is from The South. B, well he puts his dishes in the dishwasher, Thank You Very Much. He takes out the trash. Sometimes he makes dinner. And he always helps clean up, even just a little bit. His mom worked his whole life and his dad stayed home. He's used to seeing his dad do the dishes.

My dad, I've seen him do the dishes maybe twice? He works hard for my mom to spend as much money as she does and let me tell you -- Charlotte is no saint.

I just wonder. Is it The Church? Society? Family? All three?

And how do I keep my kids from thinking Mama does the wash and Papa does the real work.

B and I have a unique situation. He goes to school all day long and studies. I write small posts for a blog back home and babysit every other day. I run the school's little Coffee Cart once a week. I definitely have more time on my hands. But, should that mean I clean up everyone's shit? I don't think so. I'll do B's laundry. I'm already doing my own. I'll make dinner, I need to eat too. B likes to help when he has the time. He always comes down and sits with me while I cook so I don't feel alone.

I don't want to be one of those women that treats their husbands like a mental retard when it comes to all things House Related. Is there a line that needs to be drawn? Is there a line? Should there be?


How do you handle these areas in your own relationships?

Did they differ once you were no longer a believer? Once you no longer bought into that 1950's Stereotype Bullshit?

Am I a little bit grouchy today?




-Emily





Yes. 

I really thought they might kidnap me

As I sit writing this, I have “run away” from my TBM family. After much thought ( a year!!), my boyfriend and I decided to move in together. I let my family know I was leaving.

All. Hell. Broke. Out.

My dad said he hadn’t felt this bad since his brother killed himself.

My mom said I didn’t give a rat’s ass about my family.

My sister said she wants nothing to do with me and pushed me into a marble countertop. This is the same sister who I slapped across the face for calling me a...skank I think it was, over my pin sized earring in the top of my ear.

I tried to talk to my parents about moving. After hiding out at my brother’s house, I decided to come home. Or I guess, what was once my home. My family continued to ask what the church had done that was so bad. What had The Church ever done to me?

Oh, let’s see….lied to me for 22 years?

Of course The Church didn’t lie. They didn’t lie because it’s true.

My dad (predictably) said: You have lost your conscious. You have lost your conscious and your morals. I can just tell by looking at you that you have lost ALL FEELING.

Hey dad? I haven’t been a virgin in YEARS. Way longer than I ever stopped going to church.

You might say, Emily! That’s WHY YOU STOPPED BEING MORMON!?

nope.

The Church rules are arbitrary. They mean nothing. Obeying or disobeying them has absolutely no basis. It’s like saying a United States citizen should go to a Canadian jail for not following the laws of Canada...while living in the United States. I don’t know. Maybe that is a bad example because the laws of Canada aren’t built on complete lies. But, I digress.

I’m tearing my family apart.

I made my gramma cry.

She compared me to my aunt who lives in a trailer park and never went to college. Not that I dislike those living in trailers. Rock on. There was an awesome trailer park where I went to college. Overlooked the ocean. Doesn’t sound half bad to me. At least my aunt GTFO of UT.

I tried to talk to my family. I told them I still wanted to talk to them. Visit them.

Well, I guess I can’t have my cake and eat it to.

I can’t do what they disagree with and expect them to support me.

And by support I mean talk to me. Ever.

I gathered together the money I owed my parents for the car I apparently no longer own, though my name is on the title. My parents put me on the title (they bought it), but apparently only those that are responsible (like my 16 year old self) can have a car.

I paid them for the phone my sister dunked in water and through across room when she read private messages to my boyfriend about how The Church is a cult.

My boyfriend told me not to worry because they are brainwashed.

Ah. Well. They didn’t take to kindly to that.

My mom yelled at me, “I hope you have a nice life.”

I was all I could do to keep from saying, “I hope I do too!!!!”

Both my parents screamed at me as I gathered my things.

I packed them (my things! Not my parents) into the car.

And I left.

If they weren’t so ridiculous, I might feel a little bad right now.

I’m sure it will come….- Emily

S is for...

Sacrament Meeting

I went to Sacrament Meeting with my two little sisters and my dad on Sunday.  My dad is a member of the High Council. He is very righteous. He went straight from Ward Financial Clerk to High Councilman in a matter of years. For those that don’t know what a High Councilman is, I would relate it to...a vicar maybe? I’m not all that familiar with the hierarchy of other churches.  He’s a step above a pastor...he travels around to other Mormon churches in the area and goes to meetings from 6am to 6pm. It’s great. Point being, he is fairly important and extremely busy.

He spoke at a retirement home on this particular Sunday. The home has its own Sunday service.
My dad asked the residents to think of a time when they were most happy. What were they doing? How did they feel? He continued. It was probably when they were very closely following The Gospel. This interrupted my nice memory of lounging half-dressed, lightly salty in the mid-day heat of an Italian villa with my boyfriend; the sun cutting butter cream rays across our...Wait what? Church things? Sorry, young lovers.

Following The Gospel. He said when he was young, he married my Mom in the Temple, of course. There, there they made a promise to God. And to each other. He said he was happy then. They didn’t have much. But, they were very happy.

I told this story to my boyfriend yesterday. He’s a non-denom Christian. I wanted him to be upset. I wanted him to feel sad. Sad that my dad mentioned a promise to God as more important than anything else.

“I don’t know, Emily.” He said. A commitment to God is pretty important.”
 

“More than to each other? I think...I think I love you more.”
 

 “But, we won’t always be together.”
 

“You...you wouldn’t want to be with me?”
 

“We’ll be together. Just, not like we are now. Heaven isn’t exactly like Earth, Em. Or, is that what you think it’s like? Em? Honey? Is that what you think?”

I just left. (He lives in a different country, by the way. We were Skyping.)  I watched Say Yes to the Dress where the only thing that matters in a wedding is the damn Princess Dress. Eventually, I turned it off. One, I had a stomachache (may or may not be related). Two, it makes me sad. Mothers together helping pick out dresses. Some drama, but mostly excitement. Will I ever get that? Do I get a happy, wedding with the dress and the happy family?

My mom told me, “Don’t expect me to pay for your wedding if you don’t get married in the Temple.”

I don’t care if she pays for it. I’ll be old enough to pay for it myself, I’d prefer it. But, I want to celebrate with out my mom throwing out insults, my sister boycotting and my dad crying. Am I being a little over dramatic? Is it okay not to invite my family? I want to say Yes to a dress without it being covered by a damn green apron. I don’t want that to be the most important moment of my life. I don’t want a promise made to God in bakery costumes to be the best memory. I want to make happy memories long after that...and I guess I’m afraid if I don’t get the right beginning, I won’t.

- Emily

P is for..

Apologies.  I had surgery this past week.  Don't think you all wanted to be subjected to my drug induced ramblings.  Though, I did schedule a return doctor's visit and remember to put it in my Blackberry calendar with the correct time, doctor's name and address while completely high on dental surgery drugs.  We now to return to our regularly scheduled posts.


 Polygamy...Priesthood:

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My ancestors were polygamists.  Family legend states the beloved apostle kept one wife in favor and the other far away, barely visited.  

I was exposed to a distaste and a disgust for polygamy early on.  My mother defiantly stated she didn't care if God himself came down and told her to practice polygamy, she was not going to do it.  I agreed.  Why should I have to share my husband?  As a Mormon woman, you spend your whole 20 years life looking for your Eternal Companion, and then you were expected to share?  Not okay.  

"Good thing we don't do that any more,"  I told my boyfriend B.  

He paused.  "You sure?" 

I stared at him.  "Of course.  You'll get excommunicated if you do nowadays." 

"But," he said slowly.  "What about in Heaven?  Can't a man be "sealed" to more than one wife?  And a woman can't be "sealed" to more than one man?  What would you call that?"  He wondered. 

I became upset.  This was one of the final straws.  A pin in a lock sliding into place.   

What the hell was it?

Eternal polygamy?  I railed against my Return Missionary friend.  "What the hell?  I've been tricked! How could I not have known?  How could I not put the pieces together?  Was I blind?  Was I stupid?  Explain it to me,"  I demanded.  "Explain this bullshit to me."

He  calmly quoted from Section 132.  

"Really convenient,"  I spat.  "Make Emma look like the bad one.  The Evil Woman.  Practice polygamy or be damned."

"Emily,"  RM said.  "In the next life, we won't care.  Why does it even matter?  Why does it bother you?  It's not that important."  

"I care.  It's important to me.  This is bullshit (clearly my word of choice).  I care now and I sure as hell would care then.  I would never just "get over it."  And to say, "Oh, no!  We don't do that."  Is a lie.  It's a lie and you damn well know it."

Needless to say, this friend and I don't talk anymore.  After I found out about Dusting the Feet, I attacked him.  His missionary "Priesthood Power" was a symbol of everything wrong with the Church.  Polygamy.  Lies.  Orwellian Ministry of Truth like historical revisions.  

I guess the only time I will accept polygamy is in my beer.

N is for...

Never-Mo:

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B, my boyfriend, is known in Post-Mormon communities as a “Never-Mo.” 

A Never-Mormon.

Every Mormon parents' worst nightmare or greatest conquest.

These “Never-Mos” are either a missionary opportunity for conversion or an everlasting disappointment. 

Happily, B falls into the latter category, though I worry frequently for his sanity.  Does he really know what he's gotten himself into?  

I tell him, "Now, we are always going to be the different ones.  We'll be the Not Good Enough Ones.  You're going to be a doctor.  Still not Good Enough.  You're loving and kind.  Still not Good Enough.  You care for me.  Take care of me.  Respect me.  Encourage me.  Love me.  Not Good Enough."  

I don't think he realizes how deep the ties of Mormonism go.  

The ties are like the blackberry bushes I dug up for my mom one summer.  At first glance, the branches are spindly.  The leaves are tender and full of deep purple berries.  Look deeper, the thorns.  Deeper still, the roots tangle around each other.  Gnarled.  Suffocating.  Mangled.  Choking out anything else struggling to live.

I pulled up that blackberry bush entirely.  

But year after year, it returns. 

M is for...MORE

Marriage:

Continued....read the past entries on this topic here or here.

Because of the exclusive nature of the rituals associated with a Mormon marriage and family
unit, Mormons believe they have exclusive rights to the reunion of loved ones after death. Post-
Mormon used Bena explains, “My [Mormon] wife didn't get this concept. She was under the
impression that Mormons have corned the market on eternal families.” This is not an uncommon view.
Forum member Whitters relates, “I'm dating a Non-Mormon. My dad asked me, 'Doesn't [Boyfriend] want to be with his family forever?' I stared at him blankly. 'Dad. He does. You don't understand. The
Church believes they have this exclusive belief in families. All Christians believe they will be with
their family. All of them.'” Bena agress, “I told my wife many religions believe in being with their
families in heaven. I'm so arrogant. I'm amazed I used to believe this stuff. I guess they feel they have
a monopoly because they have to pay to get in.”

This “stuff” is the very cause of friction between both sides of the story. The cause of silence on both ends of the wide canyon. Members refuse to acknowledge the view of the non-believing loved ones because of how strongly they believe “this stuff,” this Plan. Though not a member of the Post-Mormon forum, resigned member Tyler comments, “I have resigned. My sister refuses to talk to me because I have ruined her Eternal family.That doesn't make sense to me. Why hate me in this life because she believes she wont see me in the
next? To me, this is all I have.” Post-Mormon user Whoa has a similar feeling, “I really don't want to
deal with the same shit for Eternity as I do now.”

At the heart of this issue are ultimately two sides of very hurt people pleading for the other side
to see their view. The exclusivity of Mormon families that “allows” family members to potentially be
with their families forever is the very same force that destroys them and divides them, an omnipotent
hand tearing at the hearts of all. This hand pulls the strings that keeps the Mormon view forever
focused on their Forever Families instead of the Here and Now.

M is for...MORE

Marriage:

Continued...read the beginning here

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The Plan. Commonly known as The Plan of Salvation among Mormons. Mormons believe we
are all literal spirit children of God. Before we came to Earth to gain a body, we lived together in the
Pre-Earth life. This earth life is essentially a test of our obedience. Our ability to follow The Plan
without question. But, The Plan is not as simple as a Golden Rule approach. Members of The Church
must follow principles and ordinances of The Gospel. Each Mormon child is baptized at the age of
eight. The Age of Understanding. This baptism is just the bottom rung in the ladder of ordinances and
rituals one must complete according to The Plan. In order for families to be together forever, Mormons
must be married in a sacred temple. To gain entrance into these temples, all rituals and rules must be
followed. For example, a ten percent tithe of the members yearly increase must be paid to The Church.
Members must abstain from any Church prohibited activity such as drinking coffee, tea or alcohol,
premarital sex or watching R rated movies. Once inside these temples, members must swear their
allegiance to The Church, promising their all their time, talents and abilities. At one point, they were
even made to swear their lives. It goes without saying that these sealings are not taken lightly. Those
who follow The Plan will be together forever. Those who stray will break the bond of the Eternal
Family. Forever. Without an Eternal Family, one is not allowed to live in the highest degree of Heaven as a God or Goddess after death. Because of this view of Eternal Families, no mistake is greater than
allowing a family member to break this bond. Church leaders often state, “No success can compensate
for failure in the home.” If a family member leaves The Church, the family member who has left is a
great disappointment, the family itself – a failure.

M is for...

Marriage:

“I have a family here on earth, they are so good to me. I want to share my life with them through all Eternity.”− Children's Songbook pg. 188

Members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints believe they can be with their
families forever. For Eternity. There are few things as important as being together as a family forever.
Though this emphasis on Eternal Families might seem innocent to the average person, it is a source of
contention and grief for many who have studied, struggled, prayed and ultimately found their way our
of the Mormon fold.

It's a complicated emotion to say the least. What is the best way to explain why family members
and loved ones who, while they may not have always gotten along perfectly, used to peacefully interact,
engage and enjoy each others company, go from a type of love and understanding to hurt, anger,
anguish and sometimes completely shunning of the “apostate?” Perhaps no community knows the pain
of disaffection and silence more than the members of the recovery forum Postmormon.com. Hundreds
of members a day flock to the site daily to discuss, vent, learn, grow, and most importantly, heal.

As one Post-Mormon member points out, it all boils down to simple “truths” learned as a child
in Sunday School. The song Families Can be Together Forever repeats the lines

Families can be together forever,
through Heavenly Father's plan.
I always want to be with my own family,
and the Lord has shown me how I can.
The Lord has shown me how I can.

At the heart of this seemingly harmless song lies one major reason both Post-Mormons and their still
believing family members feel such a divide. One user explains, “They [The Church] can get out of
it. If it [the family] doesn't work out correctly, blame the member. You just didn't follow The Plan.”