HILDEGARD: I remember the basement being a grand staging area for Mom’s beautiful projects, some of which were for Relief Society fundraising back in the days of bazaars and actual Homemaking meeting. A “bazaar” sounded so exotic! And Mom sure seemed excited to participate. Alight with a child’s enthusiasm during the Christmas season, I watched as she magicked together beautiful things to contribute to the event–whatever it actually was. I’d learn when I was older.
READER POST: When I was 19, I made the conscious decision to be baptized against my parents’ wishes. In response, they refused to accept the invitation. I remember looking at how beautiful the sky was that day. I had never see such a bluer sky with a more perfect ratio of clouds.
Continue reading “The Lonely Road”
LAURA: As we approach Christmas, I’ve been thinking a lot about Jesus. Like many of my friends, I’m trying to simplify our holiday without completely ignoring it. My oldest is extremely excited about Christmas and I don’t want to disappoint her. However, the mental load of the holidays is enough to overload my already anxiety-prone mental health. Balancing my limits with what I want, what my littles are wishing for, and what my extended family, social circle, and employer are expecting is the order of the day.
PILAR: We are daughters of our Heavenly Father, who loves us and we love him. We will stand as unseen witnesses of God but not in any official capacity, ever, as we strive to live the Young Women values which are:
LEAH: Last Sunday, before I drove my family to our local Protestant church, I chose between between being mean and on time, or late and kind. I opted for the latter, and the six of us trooped in to the chapel during the first hymn. Continue reading “Widows”
MIRIAM: Sandy kept delicate glass-blown unicorns on her dresser. The walls of her room were covered in horse posters, and her white metal-framed daybed was adorned with a life-size unicorn print. To me, another twelve-year-old, this was heaven. Beside her very own bedroom and its luxuries, the turmoil of a barely functioning family overwhelmed their effect. Continue reading “Claiming Individual Worth”
READER POST: I moved into a new apartment and a new singles ward to save some money before going to grad school. At the time, I was a 25-year-old returned missionary who was financially and emotionally stable. As is customary, when I moved into the ward, I had a meet the bishop interview. I grew up in a pretty chaotic home environment and it makes me pretty guarded. During the interview, I admittedly avoided questions about my family situation. This bishop was very nosy and, when I refused to give him specific information about my history, he had the executive secretary call me up for a second appointment. Continue reading “Held Hostage by a Bishop’s Hold”
LEAH: For a brief time this morning, Handbook 1 was available in full at the church’s website. I don’t know how it got there. It wasn’t there to stay. But it was there just long enough for me to read several sections.
This is one of the most important books the LDS church has, the invisible, omnipresent member of the standard works, its arms wrapped around the covers of the Bible, the Book of Mormon, the Pearl of Great Price.
This book is at the core of some of my most painful experiences with the church. Continue reading “By the Book”
LAURA: Ten years ago, I was a young, bombastic, budding activist. Pick a cause and you’d probably find me there, arguing passionately for whatever it was. I liked (and still like) underdogs. My heart bled (and bleeds) for people impoverished and assailed. Injustice sparked (and still sparks) my rage. Continue reading “Silence”
SARAH: Since gift giving is not my love language I usually prefer texts and phone calls come birthday time. “It’s the thought that counts” is a love language I speak fluently, so even when I’m given something I don’t care for I find myself warmed by the thought that someone cared. Except that one time when my MIL gave me a mop as a gift, I wasn’t understanding or grateful. I was upset. I became more upset when she gave my husband ski clothes that same year. Is it irony or illumination that when I started exploring Mormon patriarchy, I got a mop for my birthday and my husband got ski gear for his? Continue reading “I Divorced My House”