Metamorphosis seems like a generic way to describe this, yet here we are.

 

           Full disclosure, I’m at the end of my cycle, which is my most emotional week of each month, so whether or not it’s a good idea to put all this out there right now remains to be seen. I’m going to plow ahead anyway, and if you stick with me, we’re going to be covering all of the topics. I mean all of them. I realize I’m going to ruffle some feathers. There might even be some of you that decide following me on Instagram is no longer beneficial in your life. That’s fine, it really is. You need to do what is right for you. What is right for me, what I felt compelled to do as I prayed this morning, is to get all this off my chest. I only ask you give me a chance by reading the entire post.
           So…buckle up?
           George Floyd getting murdered was a real turning point in my life, and I hate that he had to die in order for that to happen. Someone shouldn’t have to die in order for me to be like “I should really dig deep, reevaluate myself, and get rid of what’s stagnant or ingenuine.”
           Ever since I acquired depression, I’ve really liked the imagery of sitting down with my thoughts/mental state, and unpacking it. Like, I imagine spreading everything out on the floor in front of me, putting it in the right boxes or bags, throwing out what I need to, and rearranging anything out of order. I think this is a residual coping mechanism from when I first started therapy. It helped to visualize it that way in my mind.
           I did a lot of that in 2020 (I think a good percentage of humans could probably say the same thing), and it was alarming to me how much I believed about race purely because of the society I grew up in. So many knee jerk reactions and judgements simply because it’s what was expected, it’s how I had been wired over time.
           ***I don’t want to unintentionally throw my parents under the bus. I think they did the best job they could, raising us to be as tolerant as we could, for a family of white people in the 80’s and 90’s. My dad grew up in poverty in Nearly Mexico, Arizona, and my mom had the eye-opening experience of serving a mission in Peru, which was life changing for someone who’d been raised in Logan, Utah (the racist capital of Utah?). I think they’d both had experiences that made them more inclined to have open hearts and minds. Blatant racism wasn’t allowed in our house, but it was the 80’s and 90’s. And we were white. We had it made, you know?***
           (Also, my parents met on their missions in Peru, so yay for that!)
           Back to my derailed train of thought.
           That was the beginning of a ginormous metamorphosis.
           It was as if I opened a door in my soul, allowing myself to peek through for the first time, and then a flood came that forced the door wide open (all I can think of right now, is that bloody elevator scene in The Shining, and it was like that except without the blood and the possessed hotel). I couldn’t stop myself from listening to other people, seeking out their life experiences which were vastly different from mine. The more I learned, the more I felt my heart growing. I didn’t even realize it needed to grow, but all along the way I felt the guidance of the Holy Ghost, cheering me on, reminding me that this was the direction I needed to go. I was becoming who my Heavenly Parents need me to be.  
           I started following more people of color on Instagram (this is an insanely easy way to get a glimpse into the life of someone not like you, by the way). I listened, REALLY listened, when women shared harrowing experiences dealing with men. I started trying to train myself to not have knee jerk judgments when I saw someone parent in a way I didn’t agree with. I stopped caring if someone’s clothes were the “right fit/style” for their “body type” (this probably coincided more with me on a completely different journey of treating myself as more than a body, but somehow the two journeys have tangled together and now they’re just one big jumble of united life discovery together) (that sentence probably only makes sense to me, but that’s okay) (also, your body is the least interesting thing about you, and isn’t that a beautifully amazing thing??).
           The more I learned how to listen to other people’s experiences, without my judgements getting in the way (because it is something you have to learn, if you’re not accustomed to it, and I think I will struggle with it for the rest of my life), the more I saw the world in a totally different light. Sometimes the light felt dim, as I accepted that the complaints and protests I’d heard over many years but chose to ignore, did in fact hold water. Sometimes the light felt really bright as I saw small pieces of my own life experience in someone else’s, and in those moments, empathy can be so beautiful.
           I was taken by surprise when things came to a head about a year ago, and I was listening to the podcast Questions From the Closet (season 1, episode 48 “Can I be in a relationship and stay in the church?”). In the episode, they speak with a woman whose marriage is not sanctioned by the church, yet she continues to attend Sunday meetings. I still get emotional thinking about her sharing how she went to the temple for the last time, right before she got married, and sobbed because she knew she wouldn’t be coming back. I don’t know why it was that episode in particular, but something clicked into place in me, listening to her story.
           Let me give some doctrinal background here, before I move forward:
           In the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, we believe that we have two Heavenly Parents, Heavenly Father and Heavenly Mother (if I use the word God, in the rest of this post, I am referring to both of Them, as a team. God is, inherently, the masculine divine and feminine divine, combined). We believe that we were created in Their image. They look like us, we look like Them. We believe that They lovingly created every person with a Purpose. Purpose with a Capital P!
           As I listened to her speak in that podcast episode, I thought about how I don’t believe being LGBTQ is a choice (for the record, I’ve never believed it’s a choice, although I haven’t understood life under that umbrella as well as I do now). And if it’s not a choice, then it stands to reason they were simply made that way by their Heavenly Parents. And my heart broke into a bunch of pieces for everyone who had been told their sexual orientation or gender identity was a mistake; everyone who fell in love but didn’t fit the mold, so couldn’t get married in the temple.
           Whew boy. The unfairness at church was blindingly apparent to me from that moment forward, and a version of myself that I didn’t know could possibly exist, took over.
           I wanted to know more about Heavenly Mother (for all that we believe in Her, it’s become the cultural norm to “respect” Her by not talking about Her)(I’m peeved just typing that sentence). I wanted to know more about the experience of Black people, in particular, as Latter-day Saints. I wanted to know more about how LGBTQ people fit in God’s plan. I wanted to know more about why women’s voices literally aren’t heard as much as men.
           The snowball was small when it started at the top of the mountain, but it’s gotten quite large and I couldn’t stop it now if I wanted to (the other day, I heard it described as this great analogy: “I’m like one of those mattresses that comes in a box, and you take it out, and it rolls out and fills with air, and there’s no way you could fit it back in the box, not matter how hard you try.”).
           If you’re still reading at this point, and you’re also a member of the same church as me, you might be wondering if I’m still actively going.
           I am.
           I’ve made covenants with God, and right now I feel like being able to go to the temple is the best way for me to honor those covenants. I show up to church every Sunday, with my rainbow pin on (Sandi from two years ago would not even recognize me), and I do my best to not have emotional breakdowns 75% of the time.
           I don’t like how marriage and family is taught (someone pointed out, in a recent General Conference, that single members outnumber married members in our church. So……when are we going to teach things differently?). I think we put way too much pressure on kids to be thinking about eternal marriage, and not nearly enough discussion about how to be prepared to just be good humans in general regardless of whether you get married in the temple, married at all, or become a parent. Because, after all, they’re KIDS. If I could go back in time, I would tell teenage Sandi that no one is less than anyone else if they don’t fit into a certain mold. That would’ve saved me a lot of character growth over the years. But then I guess I’d be missing out on that character growth…
           I have a lot of questions about racist policies in church history. I have a lot of questions about women being silenced. I have a lot of questions about why we preach the teachings of Christ, but aren’t great at implementing them when someone outside of the norm is involved.
           Mostly, I’m sick of sticking to the status quo for the sake of sticking to the status quo. So I’m done doing that.
           We talk a lot at church about agency, and what a wonderful gift it is from God, but we’re not great at allowing people the space to exercise it in their own way, if it looks different than what’s expected. In the past year, I feel like I am truly grasping onto that gift of agency for the first time in my life.
           You might be reading all of that and thinking “Then Sandi, why are you even staying? Why don’t you leave? Why are you still part of an organization that continues with a long history of prejudice?” And maybe you’re asking that genuinely, or maybe you think it’s better for everyone who disagrees to just leave the church (BEEN THERE, I’VE TOTALLY HAD THAT OPINION).
           I stay because, right now, I feel like it’s what I need to do. This is where God and I are at, right now. I like taking the sacrament. I like relearning things with new eyes (this is a really hard and frustrating thing to do sometimes, but I’m also realizing how much I’ve relied on others to spoon feed doctrine to me, so I’m learning to boil it down for myself to find what’s really true, what really matters). The system needs to be shaken up, and maybe I can do a little shaking? I’m delighted to wear my rainbow pin every Sunday, not to make any kind of political statement, but to let anyone who might need to know that I am a safe person to sit next to. I like being able to speak up in a lesson, and be the reminder that we’re all just humans doing our best, because that gets lost so frequently within a religion that is seeking perfection. I like finding the other people that seem like maybe they’re not part of the “club” anymore, or never were to begin with, but are trying to stay too.
           Honestly, church feels lonely a lot. I have good friends at church, I know really good people there, but I don’t think there are many people in my congregation who would agree with what I’ve written here, and that can feel heavy. Because I DO feel an obligation to say something, when we veer away from actual doctrine. I DO feel an obligation to speak up for those who are marginalized. I can’t not feel this obligation! It would be so much easier if I didn’t feel any of this. If I could just continue as I was before, but I don’t think that’s the Purpose for my life. I like being more aware of others.   
           Sometimes I go to church, and I feel the Spirit. I really love those Sundays. I find bits and pieces in talks and lessons that speak to me. A lot of the time, though, it feels like an ordeal. So, I’ve learned that if I want consistent spiritual nourishment in my life, I have to create it for myself. I can’t rely on church to do it for me (kind of the point of the Come Follow Me curriculum, right? 😉).
           This is what my faith/testimony boils down to at the moment:

           How is my relationship with God and Jesus Christ? What should I be doing to strengthen it, and be a better person?
           That’s it.
           No more bells and whistles. Those two questions are truly all that matter to me right now.

           No more judging people because they go out to eat on the Sabbath (we’re probably going to order wings when we watch the Super Bowl this year, because Wingstop makes them better than I do).
           No more judging people because they have tattoos (to be fair to myself, I haven’t done this in years. I actually think tattoos are pretty cool and meaningful, so maybe don’t be surprised if a couple of them show up on my skin, but it is the cultural norm in my religion to think that tattoos are unacceptable).
           No more judging people because they swear sometimes. Or a lot (you guys, they’re just words).
           No more LOOKING FOR GARMENT LINES UNDER OTHER PEOPLE’S CLOTHES (this is a very specific to Latter-day Saints habit, but falls under the common Christian rhetoric that modesty pertains only to the clothes on your body, or whether or not you’ve had sex)(it does not)(I could write twenty blog posts alone about my soap box on modesty).
           No more thinking someone is in “danger” if they are not attending every activity and every meeting (you do what works for you, it’s your life and your choices).
           No more allowing myself to feel pressure to study my scriptures a certain way or pray a certain way. I’ve tried those ways for YEARS and they’ve done nothing but stress me out, so I’m doing it the way I feel is right, and that the Holy Ghost dictates to me (because I’m entitled to receive revelation for my own life).
           No more feeling like I have to take everything at church to heart. It’s okay to say “this works for me, this does not” and move on.
           I could keep going, but I'll spare us all.
           Honestly, it scares me to put this out there. I know it could potentially jeopardize my calling at church (a calling is a service opportunity that people are assigned to, generally for a year or two). I teach in the Young Women organization (girls ages 11 through 18), and I recognize that not all the other leaders or parents agree with everything I just wrote so they might not want me around (I’ve been a YW president who wouldn’t let someone like me near the YW). I know a lot of what I wrote/finally got off my chest, DANG IT, could be used by a “good Samaritan” to try and throw me under a bus.
           But I’m sick of holding it inside.
           I’m sick of being part of a group that honors Christ and His teachings, but doesn’t know what to do with people that don’t fit into the status quo, so they do nothing. Or worse, they push them away (hi LGBTQ Mormons, I’m looking at you, and I’m so sorry).
           I’m sick of laughing politely when someone jokes over the pulpit during their talk that their wife is putting them in financial ruin. I am SICK of the rhetoric that women are inherently better than men, so that’s why men need all the leadership positions so they can learn to be as good as we are (myself, and my husband, call complete BS on that one). Such a clever way to explain keeping men in charge.
           I’m sick of ignoring the racist history of the church, and pretending like everything is ponies and rainbows.
           So I guess this is me standing on a chair and saying “I’m sick of all of this!!! But I recognize so much goodness in this organization, and I think we can do and be better!!!”
           I don’t want you to think that I think I’m better than anyone. If anything, this entire journey has taught me how much I’m not better than anyone, and how much it isn’t okay to judge others. For anything. So, I’m trying my best to not judge, whether someone agrees with me or not.
           I like to think that everyone is inherently good. Sure, you’ve got your Hitlers and Stalins, but mostly I think we’re all just good people who sometimes do bad things. Latter-day Saints aren’t bad people. You will never get work done quicker, than when you set a group of Mormons to it. You will never have people sign up quicker to bring meals and help someone who had something happen unexpectedly. You will never find a group of people more adamant that God speaks today, and revelation is VERY active in this world (though I would point out, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints does not have a monopoly on revelation. Anyone can commune with the Spirit). I hope it’s clear, this is part of why I stay. There is goodness here, and I think it could be cultivated into something really beautiful. But we have to be willing to change.
     **Side note: I understand that some people need to leave the church. I understand why some people cannot have a healthy relationship with the church, and I respect that. I won’t love you any less for leaving, staying, disagreeing, or anything. Anyone can come sit at my table. I want everyone to sit at my table!
           With allllll that being said, last year was the first time, in my entire teenage through adult existence, that I could honestly say I like myself. I like who I am. I like my body the way it is. I like being kind to others. I like learning about things that don’t make sense at first, or make me uncomfortable. I like all of these things about me. And I know that’s not a bad thing. That’s a really good thing, actually. When I started acting for myself, instead of the status quo, it felt as if God was looking down and saying “FINALLY. She’s figuring it out.”
So. Anyway. The end.