I find myself feeling out of place within my community.
On one side, there are my old friends—devoted and still firmly rooted in their beliefs. They embody what it means to be the “good ones.” On the other side, I have a handful of new acquaintances who have never experienced the confines of my former faith, living their lives unbound by its doctrines. It feels like there’s no one who truly understands my journey.
I was raised in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, commonly known as the Mormon Church. I followed all the traditions—attending Sunday services and seminary classes, marrying my husband in the temple, and having him bless our children. Though we weren’t hyper-active members, we did everything expected of us to maintain appearances for our families. In the Mormon world, you’re either fully committed or you’re out. We were committed, and I thought we genuinely believed.
Then, we discovered the Mormon Stories Podcast, and everything changed.
We began listening for hours each night to the stories of others who had once shared our faith but chose to leave for various reasons. There were numerous factors—like the 2015 exclusion policy that barred the children of LGBTQ families from baptism, the church’s treatment of the LGBTQ community, and the many issues surrounding church history. It was the deception that struck a chord with me. The lies and manipulation, the greed—realizing that the church was more guilty of sin than many of its members left me shattered.
We spent months diving into church history, captivated yet frustrated. How could I have believed all of this? How could anyone? Just months ago, I was fully invested, and now my world was crumbling. I felt both relief and anguish. As a Mormon, you are taught that being married in the temple means you’ll be sealed to your family for eternity. Now, I grapple with the uncertainty of whether I’ll see my family after death, a question that haunts me.
Interacting with members of the Mormon community has become increasingly challenging. Their lives are woven into the fabric of the church, while I feel liberated from its control. Some are unaware of my departure, but I suspect others have sensed it. My family knows, but my husband’s family remains in the dark; he fears their reaction, which is understandable. Some individuals who leave face complete estrangement.
The perception of those who exit the church is also daunting. You’re seen as weak, a coward who couldn’t endure the challenges of faith, someone simply seeking to sin. You become an apostate.
Yet, this stereotype couldn’t be further from the truth for many who leave. It’s a struggle to embrace the freedoms you were once denied.
In the year since I made my decision, I’ve found the courage to wear a tank top in public. It took some attempts and a lot of bravery, but I did it. I’ve also learned how to order at Starbucks—baby steps.
This brings me back to my initial thought: I don’t fit anywhere in my community. I can’t fully express my new self around my Mormon friends; the tension is palpable. Some may consider it sinful to associate with someone who has left the faith. If I were to pop open a White Claw in front of them, I might witness their shock or even a hasty exit.
I’m attempting to bond with my new friends, but they don’t grasp why I’m thrilled to be invited for coffee for the first time at 33. They don’t understand my insecurities about fashion or my lack of knowledge regarding wine selection. They can’t comprehend the enormity of what I’ve lost—my former life has been reduced to ashes, leaving me to navigate how to rebuild.
If you take anything from my reflections, I hope it’s this: If you know someone experiencing a faith crisis—regardless of their belief system—please recognize that it’s a profoundly difficult journey. Trust me, it’s one of the hardest challenges they’ll face.
I will continue to sift through the remnants of my former beliefs. I refuse to pretend to be anyone other than who I am now. I’ll be authentic in my convictions and teach my children to do the same.
It’s okay if I lack a community, as long as I maintain my integrity.
For more insights on navigating personal faith transitions, you may find this blog post helpful: Connecting with Others During a Faith Crisis.
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In summary, my journey away from the Mormon Church has left me feeling isolated, yet I am committed to embracing my newfound authenticity and teaching my children the importance of integrity.
Keyphrase: Leaving the Mormon Church
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