It's quite possible you will end up with a kid like me.
I'm 27 and I just realized, not an hour ago, that I have always let other people run my life. I have never taken charge. I don't know exactly what the psychology of it is, but I know part of it is that I have always thought other people know better than I do about my life. And I have always thought that I sucked, and that everything I did was bound to be flawed. I know this isn't a uniquely mormon way of teaching kids to be, but that's where I got it.
And now here I am, and I'm not sure how I got here. I don't get my twenties back. I can't go and live in Portland and play music (I am actually talented) or so some of the other things I have secretly wished for, because now I am locked into a pattern of life that would be really hard to leave. And I don't think I consciously chose it.
Maybe I'm going through a 1/3 way through life crisis. I just started grad school, and my husband is really excited about the idea of buying a house. I'm still pretty freaked out about actually being married, even though it's been over a year. All these new commitments... I don't exactly feel free right now. And I wonder if it even was my idea to do this or if I let my husband, and other societal pressures, talk me into it. (I also wonder if I'm just freaking out about nothing. I have no way to know.)
I'm sorry about this personal stuff, I'm just feeling alone and upset. I thought that if there are people who know what this is like, or know where I am coming from, it would be here.
I have never felt good enough, I have never felt strong enough, and now I'm thinking it's too late to really change these feelings about myself. And if it isn't too late, it sure is too late to go back and live it over again. That is the worst part of it all.
(I'll be starting counseling next week to deal with some of this stuff.)
Thanks for reading.
P.s. I've been out of the church for 3 or 4 years, but I only lately have discovered what a hold it still has on my psyche. I guess this is just another step in the learning process- mourning what I could have had if I had been raised to believe in myself.
(I posted the above earlier today on the bulletin board at www.exmormon.org)
Thursday, April 17, 2008
exmo ponderings
I remember thinking when I was very young (5 or 6?) that I was going to do everything possible to be perfect. I was going to be the first real 'perfect' person since Jesus. Maybe I would even see God at 14 like Joseph Smith did, because he was so pure of heart and all.
Then, of course, I screwed it up at some point by fighting with my brother, or whatever. But it didn't really matter, because all that gets washed away when you get baptized and you can start again, right?
I turned 8, got baptized, and did my best (again) to be perfect. I don't remember what this would have entailed in my little mind, but I assume it was something like walking with my arms folded and always doing whatever my mom asked me to.
But of course, I messed that up somehow, too.
I remember feeling pretty terrible about this. I mean, I had a 'get out of jail free' card but I somehow managed to squander it! What kind of kid was I? A rotten one, obviously. Fundamentally flawed. And that has stuck with me my whole life.
Then, of course, I screwed it up at some point by fighting with my brother, or whatever. But it didn't really matter, because all that gets washed away when you get baptized and you can start again, right?
I turned 8, got baptized, and did my best (again) to be perfect. I don't remember what this would have entailed in my little mind, but I assume it was something like walking with my arms folded and always doing whatever my mom asked me to.
But of course, I messed that up somehow, too.
I remember feeling pretty terrible about this. I mean, I had a 'get out of jail free' card but I somehow managed to squander it! What kind of kid was I? A rotten one, obviously. Fundamentally flawed. And that has stuck with me my whole life.
Saturday, March 15, 2008
favorite shows
I feel like making a list of my favorite shows that are currently in production.
5) Ghost Hunters
4) Big Love
3) The Office
2) Anthony Bourdain: No Reservations
1) Lost
Oh, TV. Secret lover.
5) Ghost Hunters
4) Big Love
3) The Office
2) Anthony Bourdain: No Reservations
1) Lost
Oh, TV. Secret lover.
Thursday, March 6, 2008
what I wish someone had said to me
"You are the child of god's holy gift of life. You come from me, but you are not me. Your soul and your body are your own, and yours to do with as you wish."
--The Secretary, 2002
--The Secretary, 2002
Monday, March 3, 2008
my mormon story
I was born and raised mormon; both sides of my family were descended from pioneers or early European settlers. I did primary, young women’s seminary, and singles wards. When I was 20, I was manipulated and date-raped by a man who found me in my singles ward in Salt Lake. He was from Wyoming- a roving predator, ten years my senior. I blamed myself for a long time, feeling like I could continue to go to church but never really participate because of what had happened and my guilt about it.
After a year I stopped going entirely and started dating a very decent and caring (non-manipulative) nevermo. Because I was with him, I got a glimpse of life outside mormondom, how warm and caring his family was, how much they really loved each other and enjoyed each other’s company, how healthy and conscientious they all were. That was a revelation to me- I had never seen anything like it.
This revelation led to more experiences, more perspectives, more people, more knowledge. My world view, my view on the nature of existence, is so much broader and more accurate now than it ever was before. Even though I left the mormon church because I felt “bad” about myself, something good came of it: I actually left. I got out. And being out has allowed me to read things I wouldn’t have let myself read before, think about things I wouldn’t have let myself think about before. As a result, I have found truth, things that actually make sense, things that ring true and don’t require altered logic.
So in a way, I did things backwards- I left, then I REALLY left.
One of the most damaging things about growing up mormon is that your ability to think for yourself is subverted. I still have trouble asking for what I want or even knowing what I want. I still have to search my heart for a long time before I can uncover what I really feel about something. I still, unconsciously, find myself deferring to older male authority for no actual reason. The real damage that was done to me, that resulted in me being easily manipulated and used, was that I couldn’t think for myself, I couldn’t stand up for myself, and I didn’t think I was worth standing up for. I make this promise now- my children will never feel this way.
I was never an “endowed” member, an adult mormon. I was never coerced into marrying too young, having too many kids too early, and losing myself entirely. I thank the powers that be for helping me out, for giving me a chance at life. I see my cousins and my friends struggling now with choices they made at too young an age- marrying people they barely knew, having kids before they were ready- although they won’t admit it except in veiled terms in private company. I hurt for them. I wish there was something I could do, even though I realize that everyone has their path they are just following theirs. All I can do is show them that life outside mormondom does not equal instant death, just in case they are entertaining the idea.
(My life isn’t perfect, and I’m not saying that theirs are completely dreadful, but I do sense an overarching feeling of disappointment in most of my adult mormon friends and relatives. They have finally reached the point in their life where they have done the major things you are supposed to do in order to be happy and free, but for some reason it didn’t work... is it because they are bad? Selfish? Not enough kids yet? Nope. It’s because the whole thing is a lie. But I digress.)
Anyways, it is going to take a long time for the whole experience of my childhood, teens, and early 20's to be healed. Luckily, I have a supportive husband and a few more years before we will have kids. I think in this time I will be able to develop a stronger sense of self, a more authentic value system, and a greater capacity for giving and receiving unconditional love. I am looking forward to a rich and fulfilling life, because that is what I (and all beings) deserve. Thanks for reading.
After a year I stopped going entirely and started dating a very decent and caring (non-manipulative) nevermo. Because I was with him, I got a glimpse of life outside mormondom, how warm and caring his family was, how much they really loved each other and enjoyed each other’s company, how healthy and conscientious they all were. That was a revelation to me- I had never seen anything like it.
This revelation led to more experiences, more perspectives, more people, more knowledge. My world view, my view on the nature of existence, is so much broader and more accurate now than it ever was before. Even though I left the mormon church because I felt “bad” about myself, something good came of it: I actually left. I got out. And being out has allowed me to read things I wouldn’t have let myself read before, think about things I wouldn’t have let myself think about before. As a result, I have found truth, things that actually make sense, things that ring true and don’t require altered logic.
So in a way, I did things backwards- I left, then I REALLY left.
One of the most damaging things about growing up mormon is that your ability to think for yourself is subverted. I still have trouble asking for what I want or even knowing what I want. I still have to search my heart for a long time before I can uncover what I really feel about something. I still, unconsciously, find myself deferring to older male authority for no actual reason. The real damage that was done to me, that resulted in me being easily manipulated and used, was that I couldn’t think for myself, I couldn’t stand up for myself, and I didn’t think I was worth standing up for. I make this promise now- my children will never feel this way.
I was never an “endowed” member, an adult mormon. I was never coerced into marrying too young, having too many kids too early, and losing myself entirely. I thank the powers that be for helping me out, for giving me a chance at life. I see my cousins and my friends struggling now with choices they made at too young an age- marrying people they barely knew, having kids before they were ready- although they won’t admit it except in veiled terms in private company. I hurt for them. I wish there was something I could do, even though I realize that everyone has their path they are just following theirs. All I can do is show them that life outside mormondom does not equal instant death, just in case they are entertaining the idea.
(My life isn’t perfect, and I’m not saying that theirs are completely dreadful, but I do sense an overarching feeling of disappointment in most of my adult mormon friends and relatives. They have finally reached the point in their life where they have done the major things you are supposed to do in order to be happy and free, but for some reason it didn’t work... is it because they are bad? Selfish? Not enough kids yet? Nope. It’s because the whole thing is a lie. But I digress.)
Anyways, it is going to take a long time for the whole experience of my childhood, teens, and early 20's to be healed. Luckily, I have a supportive husband and a few more years before we will have kids. I think in this time I will be able to develop a stronger sense of self, a more authentic value system, and a greater capacity for giving and receiving unconditional love. I am looking forward to a rich and fulfilling life, because that is what I (and all beings) deserve. Thanks for reading.
Friday, January 25, 2008
old blog from myspace
Monday, November 19, 2007
goodbye little baby dog
Have you ever felt so sad, it feels like you are going to throw up?
I've been trying to rush through the mourning, I think. I've been trying to "feel better" already. It's only been a day and a half. A house without a little furry friend for a day and a half. Feels like a month.
I've been vaccuuming, every inch, behind everything. Moving furniture, using the attachments to get along the walls and in the corners. To spare myself in the future from coming across his fur somewhere. As if it could be any more difficult than it is for me now to see it... but I still feel like I need to do it.
Am I trying to digest this pain to quickly? It is so awful, so bottomless... I want it gone. You can't blame me for trying to put it away as soon as I can. But it won't be put away any time soon, I think.
One thing I've learned in the past year is how important it is to feel what you feel when you feel it. This has been a hard lesson to learn- my whole life I have had the habit of trying to feel what I "should" feel, or what I think other people want me to feel. This is a hard thing to get over.
Right now I feel very sad, like a bag of sand is over my chest.
I see his little hiding places, empty.
I imagine his little pointy red head peaking up over the edge of the couch.
I think for a second when I put food on the coffee table that he might get into it, then I remember.
It's hardest walking in the door, and seeing his spot on the couch that he would sleep on during the day. He would pick up his head, his tongue sticking out at the end, his mane rumpled, looking suprised. My sweet baby.
His time was done. He was sick, his kidneys didn't work anymore. His blood was toxic, he wouldn't eat. He only wanted to lay on the bed, with someone close by. He was throwing up 4 or 5 times a day, he could barely walk. It was hard to watch. My baby, who used to chase horses at lightning speed in the field behind our house.
He seemed to know, when we carried him into the animal hospital on Sunday. He was fine, he was smiling. He was calm. He was looking us in the eyes. He looked into my eyes as the pink liquid went into the catheter in his front left leg. He was looking into my eyes, his head relaxed into my hand, and I lowered it to the floor.
We took him to a canyon in Cache Valley and buried him later that day. It is hard to bury something you love. It is hard to leave the body there, far away. The body seemed like all I had left at the time.
I think I feel him talking to me, saying that he is still here. I don't know. It could be me trying to make myself feel better already. But I like the thought of him being free, and young, and happy again. I like the thought of him being around me still. That's the only consolation I am able to find.
Isn't it the hardest thing you can face in life, to lose something/someone you love? Isn't that the hardest thing you can think of?
goodbye little baby dog
Have you ever felt so sad, it feels like you are going to throw up?
I've been trying to rush through the mourning, I think. I've been trying to "feel better" already. It's only been a day and a half. A house without a little furry friend for a day and a half. Feels like a month.
I've been vaccuuming, every inch, behind everything. Moving furniture, using the attachments to get along the walls and in the corners. To spare myself in the future from coming across his fur somewhere. As if it could be any more difficult than it is for me now to see it... but I still feel like I need to do it.
Am I trying to digest this pain to quickly? It is so awful, so bottomless... I want it gone. You can't blame me for trying to put it away as soon as I can. But it won't be put away any time soon, I think.
One thing I've learned in the past year is how important it is to feel what you feel when you feel it. This has been a hard lesson to learn- my whole life I have had the habit of trying to feel what I "should" feel, or what I think other people want me to feel. This is a hard thing to get over.
Right now I feel very sad, like a bag of sand is over my chest.
I see his little hiding places, empty.
I imagine his little pointy red head peaking up over the edge of the couch.
I think for a second when I put food on the coffee table that he might get into it, then I remember.
It's hardest walking in the door, and seeing his spot on the couch that he would sleep on during the day. He would pick up his head, his tongue sticking out at the end, his mane rumpled, looking suprised. My sweet baby.
His time was done. He was sick, his kidneys didn't work anymore. His blood was toxic, he wouldn't eat. He only wanted to lay on the bed, with someone close by. He was throwing up 4 or 5 times a day, he could barely walk. It was hard to watch. My baby, who used to chase horses at lightning speed in the field behind our house.
He seemed to know, when we carried him into the animal hospital on Sunday. He was fine, he was smiling. He was calm. He was looking us in the eyes. He looked into my eyes as the pink liquid went into the catheter in his front left leg. He was looking into my eyes, his head relaxed into my hand, and I lowered it to the floor.
We took him to a canyon in Cache Valley and buried him later that day. It is hard to bury something you love. It is hard to leave the body there, far away. The body seemed like all I had left at the time.
I think I feel him talking to me, saying that he is still here. I don't know. It could be me trying to make myself feel better already. But I like the thought of him being free, and young, and happy again. I like the thought of him being around me still. That's the only consolation I am able to find.
Isn't it the hardest thing you can face in life, to lose something/someone you love? Isn't that the hardest thing you can think of?
taken from my myspace blog
science
I have no patience anymore for permutation of the truth. I have no interest in inaccurate descriptions, especially in regards to feelings. I don't want to deal with people who cannot tell me what they are really thinking or feeling, the whole truth, as much as it is my business.
I will no longer tolerate lies. And when I am able to detect them, I will ask for the person to think a little harder and try again to explain him or herself.
Socially-encouraged lying may be slightly more prevalent here in Utah. There might be a higher expectation that people be happy and present smiling faces to the world. It also may be that people are taught from the time they are children that they should be feeling certain ways in certain situations.
I have been terrible at knowing how I actually feel for the majority of my life. It has resulted in me not taking as good care of myself as I should have. Example: I had boyfriends just to have boyfriends, not because I actually felt anything for most of them. Another example- not knowing what I thought about things, if I liked them or not. I was always trying too hard to gauge what response I thought I was supposed to give. But I didn't know that. It was like I was in a haze. Someone could have asked me, "What is your favorite color?" and I would have told them their own favorite color, just because it was what I thought they wanted me to say.
It's just how it is, it has been an ugly part of my personality for a long time. But now that I have started being able to know myself, I can't imagine going back. I feel anger at the people and situations that hold other people back from knowing themselves and uncovering their own truth. Anger.
I recently had to deal with a very dishonest person. This person got caught in his lies, and lied again to avoid consequences. It wouldn't care so much except his lie involved giving me the blame for what he got in trouble for, and it painted me in a very untrue light. This is, I believe, a direct result of him not knowing himself, knowing how he feels, believing in what he feels, and being able to relate to other people how he feels. I have no more patience for him, I am done with it.
I always thought I fit best into the "artist" category. Turns out, I may be more of a scientist. An art-in-scientist. Science is about truth, about the best way to describe why things are the way they are. In my music, I try to show things are perfectly as possible, as I see them. I don't lie in my music. My songs may sound a little abstract at times, but to me there is a direct translation to some feeling or moment that I try to portray as accurate as possible. That is the most important thing to me now.
No more purposeful inaccuracy, no more dishonesty, ok? It is weak, it is pathetic, and I won't tolerate it anymore.
My favorite color right now is a deep, royal blue with just a hint of purple.
I have no patience anymore for permutation of the truth. I have no interest in inaccurate descriptions, especially in regards to feelings. I don't want to deal with people who cannot tell me what they are really thinking or feeling, the whole truth, as much as it is my business.
I will no longer tolerate lies. And when I am able to detect them, I will ask for the person to think a little harder and try again to explain him or herself.
Socially-encouraged lying may be slightly more prevalent here in Utah. There might be a higher expectation that people be happy and present smiling faces to the world. It also may be that people are taught from the time they are children that they should be feeling certain ways in certain situations.
I have been terrible at knowing how I actually feel for the majority of my life. It has resulted in me not taking as good care of myself as I should have. Example: I had boyfriends just to have boyfriends, not because I actually felt anything for most of them. Another example- not knowing what I thought about things, if I liked them or not. I was always trying too hard to gauge what response I thought I was supposed to give. But I didn't know that. It was like I was in a haze. Someone could have asked me, "What is your favorite color?" and I would have told them their own favorite color, just because it was what I thought they wanted me to say.
It's just how it is, it has been an ugly part of my personality for a long time. But now that I have started being able to know myself, I can't imagine going back. I feel anger at the people and situations that hold other people back from knowing themselves and uncovering their own truth. Anger.
I recently had to deal with a very dishonest person. This person got caught in his lies, and lied again to avoid consequences. It wouldn't care so much except his lie involved giving me the blame for what he got in trouble for, and it painted me in a very untrue light. This is, I believe, a direct result of him not knowing himself, knowing how he feels, believing in what he feels, and being able to relate to other people how he feels. I have no more patience for him, I am done with it.
I always thought I fit best into the "artist" category. Turns out, I may be more of a scientist. An art-in-scientist. Science is about truth, about the best way to describe why things are the way they are. In my music, I try to show things are perfectly as possible, as I see them. I don't lie in my music. My songs may sound a little abstract at times, but to me there is a direct translation to some feeling or moment that I try to portray as accurate as possible. That is the most important thing to me now.
No more purposeful inaccuracy, no more dishonesty, ok? It is weak, it is pathetic, and I won't tolerate it anymore.
My favorite color right now is a deep, royal blue with just a hint of purple.
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