I get asked from time to time why I left the LDS church. Sometimes these queries come over instant messenger, sometimes text message. Sometimes even in conversation.
So, I thought I'd write it down here, so that I have a place to send people, in case they want all the details.
While some LDS people manage to be rather isolated and insulated from those who don't share their faith, this was never the case for me. My parents were both converts, so there were very few LDS people in my extended family. I lived in a small town in New Hampshire that had only one other LDS family. Having only Mormon friends would have meant having virtually no friends at all.
Being a New England Mormon was sort of a matter of pride. We laughed at the people who came out from Utah for school or work and had a hard time adjusting to not having so many LDS people around. I just couldn't imagine being that isolated.
Even as a child I was bright and curious. I wanted to know everything and learned easily, just by reading things. And what I read stuck. I share this not to boast, but because I am about to confess something: I was never that into studying the scriptures. I read them for classes and lessons, I participated in classes and lessons and what I read stuck. Reading for meditation wasn't something I enjoyed as a kid. Still, I knew a lot of answers and participated in my classes at church.
I also participated at school. Though my work ethic was not great and I didn't do much homework, I was in honors and AP classes and definitely college bound even before I started high school.
It was around this time that the seeds of doubt began to be sown. Several of my co-workers at my part time job were gay or bisexual. I enjoyed spending time with them and considered them my friends. This meant that later, when I heard criticisms of LGBT people and their relationships at church, it was not related to abstract individuals but actual people I knew and did not settle well.
Also, my good friend, the only other LDS girl in my small town got pregnant when she was fifteen. The entire process, from her lack of sexual and contraceptive information and access to her fear at telling her parents to her eventual disfellowship from the church left a bad taste in my mouth.
Finally, I was disturbed that so many people expressed that I should apply to BYU or to Ricks, a two year LDS school. It made no sense to me that I would go to a two year school instead of a better four year school. But it seemed to others that the priority was LDS community and marriage, not education.
So, in my late teens and early twenties, I stopped participating in church. I didn't push or question my beliefs, but told people I had no natural talent for being Mormon.
Eventually, I decided to take some time off from school and moved back in with my parents. I went to church just enough to keep them from harassing me about it, but wasn't interested in going back. But then I made friends and began to participate in institute. We formed a singles branch and I was a part of it.
This led me to go on a mission. As I prepared and submitted my mission papers, I had never felt better about being LDS and was very excited to go to the temple.
A few days before I went to the temple, I used my parents' new computer and internet to try to learn more about the mysterious ceremony that awaited me. I literally did not believe what I found: information connecting the LDS temple to Masons? Secret handshakes? That wasn't possible, was it? This was in the late 90's and I really couldn't tell whether those sites were reliable, so I backed away from them and went to the temple...only to learn the sites were correct. The temple was completely disconnected from anything I had ever previously considered worship. Still, I was committed to going on a mission, so I stuffed it down and went.
The big take away from the mission? Authority is...interesting. My mission was very numbers oriented and many of the guys I served with got caught up in that. This resulting dynamics were disturbing to say the least.
Returning from the mission though, I continued to be active and pursued both my profession and my goal of marriage. I finished my undergraduate degree and moved to Houston to be a TFA corps member.
As I settled in Houston, I got to be part of a great singles ward as well as the TFA network. This helped me keep balanced and critical and connected me to a very diverse group of people.
At this point in time, I honestly don't remember when I began to identify less as a Mormon and more as a Christian. But it did happen in a very real way during this season of my life. I learned some very unflattering things about Joseph Smith and Brigham Young...enough that I began to doubt them. But I chose not to dig too deep. Still, my testimony changed. I began to feel uncomfortable testifying to the truth of the church or the Book of Mormon, but made a point to focus on Jesus and showing love for others, since I felt on solid ground with those teachings. I had two especially challenging callings during this season: one to teach a family history Sunday school class (since it required temple work, which I didn't actually believe in) and second to teach the temple prep class (which definitely made me uncomfortable.)
Right after I turned 30, the magic age at which you are graduated from YSA, I moved to Tennessee to pursue my Masters at Vanderbilt. Being in a new ward meant new connections and also no calling. It was then that I met Andres, a recent convert and Colombian physicist. We became engaged and it was during our courtship that I realized the extent of my doubt. I dreaded him going to the temple, because I knew I would not be able to make the endowment seem normal. I admitted to him that I didn't literally believe the Book of Mormon was true. He shared with me something a pastor had told him in Italy, when he told that paster he'd been baptized LDS: that the Book of Mormon and the LDS church is beautiful, but it's a beautiful lie. And that phrase summed up all I'd been feeling for the church for some time.
Other things bothered me about this time, some revolving around LGBT rights. As the Prop 8 discussion heated up in California, I found people at church felt very strongly about it, and quite the opposite of what I felt. What bothered me most though was their dishonest rhetoric, the way they grossly exaggerated the impact this policy had on the larger culture. Those were my FRIENDS they were talking about! And I knew that the way the church treated this situation had a hugely negative effect on even some of its members! I'd known people who ended up married to a spouse who was not attracted to their gender, but who had entered into the marriage because they believed they could be repaired. I'd served with gay elders who struggled every day with the cognitive dissonance and a level of self loathing. It really bothered me.
Still, I figured that if I got married I could find some way to be a non-literal believer and it would be OK. Then, Andres broke up with me two weeks before the wedding. I was devastated and sunk into a deep depression. I finished school and had the opportunity to move to Connecticut.
Moving to a new ward, where nobody knew me made it the perfect time to leave the church. No home teachers, very few friends. It was a great fit!
I allowed my family and friends to believe that I'd left because I was devastated over my broken engagement. In truth, that did play a part in my decision. Had I been married, having made promises to another person I loved and based my marriage on the LDS faith, it would have been harder to leave. But the bigger reasons for leaving were rooted in the belief that the church simply wasn't what it claimed to be.
In later years, I began to conceptualize the reason to participate in a particular faith on two axis: one being cultural, including social and worship culture, the second being doctrinal or belief based. The "sweet spot" completely functional place to participate in a religious group is in a place where both the culture and doctrine align for you. You can still be happy in your church if you align with at least one of the two axes in a positive way, presuming that the community will welcome those who don't completely agree with some aspects of their belief or practice. But if neither doctrine nor culture is positive and aligns with you? It's bound to be dysfunctional and unhealthy. I got to that point and made the decision to leave.
In the time since, I have explored and participated in various other Christian communities and now go to one church for choir and another for extra community. (Still less church than when I was Mormon, BTW!) I love and value what I gain from and contribute to these experiences and am thrilled that I can come and go as I choose. I feel freer in my worship and relationships now than before.
