Here I am

I’m in a spot where I never thought I’d end up. I always thought I’d live, breathe, and die in Mormonism. Who knows? Maybe I still will.

Life has taken a few turns for me. Not drastic ones, like the death of a close family member or a good friend.

I grew up in a sheltered bubble. A Utah Mormon bubble, where the Simpsons and Home Alone were considered to mature for me — even as a teen. Where I wanted to be a lifeguard but my parents shot me down because they were worried I’d be staring at girls.

I was taught from a young age about Mormonism. My parents did a good job raising all of us kids. They showed us unconditional love, and I only remember being yelled at by my parents if I was destroying property.

We lived at church. Every Sunday, we went to church. We attended all the meetings. We held “family home evening” every Monday night. We went to the activities. I didn’t question any of it. We were in the true church of Jesus Christ, and we needed to do what its leaders prescribed to us.

I served a mission in the United States. It was long, but I had it very easy. I hear stories from family members who left the country and my stress level was zero compared to them.

While serving, I was put in as a zone leader. At one of the meetings they had with the mission president and the rest of the zone leaders, we were told that we were going to be future stake presidents. My high and mighty self thought, “I would like that”.

12 years later, I’m done with the faith. I’ll explain the how and the why, in the coming posts.

Thanks for joining me and taking the time to read.