Thursday, March 19, 2009

A late introduction

I was brought up in the Mormon church. My parents were converts when I was very young. Young enough that I don't remember anything else. I had the typical Mormon upbringing- baptized by my Dad on my 8th birthday, started baptisms for the dead at age 12, went to seminary (haha- see previous post).

I have not been 100% active since I was forced to attend church when I was still living at home until age 18. Part of the reason I moved out so young was not because I was going to college, no, that was not stressed in my home- church was. That's part of the reason I moved out, the other was simply because I was independent and wanted to make my own rules. So I did, and I'm happy I did.

Moving out at age 18, I didn't really even think about church to be honest. I worked, dated, just had fun being on my own. I would on occassion attend church with the parents, but at that point, never attended in the ward where I would have been assigned. Never really gave much thought to church until I was living with my now husband and my mom threatened to have me excommunicated. LOL I am now a HUGE advocate of living together before marriage IF it feels right- IF it feels like it is going to be "the one". Anyway, after she said that, all these feelings of guilt and dirtiness came flooding back into my life. Ugh, I hated it. So, I tried going to church- that lasted all of like 2 Sundays. Never gave them my address or anything. Lo and behold- a couple of months later the missionaries start knocking on my door. Again- thanks to my dear mother. She so graciously had my records transferred to my new ward. How nice of her. Why did they allow her to transfer her grown daughters records? Is there no privacy? Obviously not.
Anyway, I started to feel pressured to get my husband in church so that we could be married in the temple one day after I got him good and brainwashed. Yeah, that was never going to happen. He's stubborn as a mule anyway and hated the LDS church from the first time he stepped foot into it.

So, we finally moved and didn't tell the missionaries, but after about a year, guess who shows up unannounced and uninvited? I mean, I feel really bad for those guys they're so young and are basically forced to go- my brother served a mission and I would think about my brother standing outside at someone's house, but COME ON! My brother's mission actually turned him into a giant douche, so now I really couldn't care less.

The joy of moving once again to rural America is that the missionaries don't EVER come over! EVER! And I actually know that they have my address this time because about 4 years ago, I started going back to church again and I gave it to them. I've put this in another blog, but I have written a letter to the bishop requesting that I not be contacted whatsoever and so far, that request has been upheld.

The most recent time that I started going back to church, it felt really strange. It was comfortable, yet there was something obviously different. I knew all the teachings, it was all the same, but I was different, I had so many questions that couldn't be answered. My biggest problem was that I would go to church alone and for some reason, the congregation had a problem with that. I couldn't just go to worship because I wanted to- they had to constantly badger me about my husband. "Where is he?" "We have to get your husband here." and on and on and on. It was maddening.

Long story short- my doubts were out in the open, there was no way I could go back.

My former missionary brother has at least made my parents proud. No, he didn't graduate with honors. In fact, he quit going to college- why you ask? He got married in the temple, knocked his wife up after 2 months, she had the baby, then he knocked her up again after 9 months. So now they have 2 kids under the age of 2. She of course quit working immediately to be a "stay at home mother", so he was unable to finish school and had to find a job that paid enough to allow her to do so. UGH.

Oh yeah, living the Mormon dream, they are.

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