Just to preface- I am not religious at all. I would categorize myself as spiritual, but even that label isnt “nailing it” for me. I’m a secular lady.
If you are triggered by faith transition stories, then this post is not for you- cuz I’ll be covering my journey away from the Mormon religion specifically. I don’t really want to cover theological or historical issues - at all. But it will cover the issues that impacted me personally and how I became outspoken on social issues.
I have family and close friends who I love dearly and who are Mormon and many of them have not heard and will not ever hear my reasons for leaving their church. The reason for that is primarily because it would cause more hurt than it needs to- and so for many of those relationships, I retain a “live and let live” mentality in order to preserve the love that is MOST important.
To summarize, Im from Uganda. My family converted through mormon missionaries when I was 4 years old - first my dad, in Australia, while he was briefly there for his education. My mom remained in Uganda and I think she probably thought he was crazy when he returned with that news. . But the church offered educational advancement and we would end up immigrating to Provo Utah, thanks to that decision to join the Mormon church.
I enjoyed our church membership as much as a young kid does, but I do remember my first encounters with the scriptures stating in black and white- that black skin was loathsome and a curse- when I was very young.
There were also book of mormon comics that depicted the bad guys as black and the good guys as “white and delightsome”.
I felt scared and I felt confused- and my reaction was to hold it in. If this news was true, I didn’t want to be the one to break it to even my family members and I think I hoped the white people around me didn’t know.
I definitely remember harboring the idea that I was inherently less than because of the color of my skin. And I remember asking God why I was black?
I feel like I always loved being black, but being surrounded by only white people in a white church just didn’t serve me.
I experienced a lot of what I would call racial trauma land mines. Where I would be just living my life and being a kid and BOOM- some white boys from the neighborhood would shout the N word at me. I would be at school, getting lunch and some white kid would say “ your braids/hair is ugly”. I would be standing in line and some small child would point and say too loudly… “mom why is she BLACK?!(like it was a bad thing) And the parent would respond all wrong. I would be sitting in Sunday school and somehow the topic of the priesthood ban against black men would be brought up- and quickly hushed away. I would be left confused and ashamed about my standing with God as well as feeling alienated because there really weren’t people who were willing to discuss it in detail.
So while I can’t say my experience was overall terrible- I really was beautifully embraced by most and loved by this white tribe I inherited. I have wonderful memories or beautiful Sunday mornings, hymns, community, big Sunday dinner with lots of love- But that does not erase the realities of casual late 80s/ early 90s racism in lilly white provo Utah.
My family would move to Tucson Arizona, where my parents divorced. My dad got excommunicated from the church and I wore that embarrassment and spent my teens being an IDEAL mormon teen, in order to atone for the disgrace of coming from a broken home. The church became all at once my saving grace- the tribe that supported my single mother with her 6 kids- But also the cage that kept me in judgement of all the other people around me who weren’t my faith ( I had been in Utah after all). And the cage that left me feeling like I needed to over achieve just to be acceptable.
It was a huge goal for me to go to BYU and I went on an athletic scholarship, had an amazing athletic career and got married and later sealed in the mormon temple, had my first baby…
realized that this life definitely wasn’t happiness-jokes on me- lol.
I got divorced and spent 10 years as a single mother mostly in Utah county.
I was hustling and just trying to survive, raise my daughter and riding the rollercoaster of failed relationships and bumping along through self discovery.
I started to push back against some of the things I felt like I needed to be silent about- One of those things being my churches embarrassing stance on proposition 8- marriage equality.
I remember sitting in my Sunday school class when I heard the most vile, bigoted comments being made about gay people getting married. I wasn’t a great ally at all at the time, but I do remember really being able to feel how importantly it was to say something. My own experiences of being marginalized forced me into taking a strong stand and just calling it what it was- bigoted.
I would spend several years as a “spirituality woo- woo mormon” - all peace, all love, less judgement before my curiosity led me to resources, podcasts, books that just absolutely obliterated my every belief in the mormon church. It was such an intense time.
For me, the reality was just far different that what had been represented to me growing up. It became too much to try to hold up when I was already struggling to find my place as a divorced, black, progressive feminist.
I just really felt like I outgrew the pot I was planted in. And, after a ravinous period of reading and learning everything I could about the newly found realizations about church of my upbringing, I gave myself room to reconsider EVERYTHING.
I gave myself a little breathing room to explore life without my holy garments and fall in love with my body- uncovered.
I was able to assess the damage that purity and modesty culture had done to my self worth.
I gave myself permission to miss the sacrament -and spend sundays actually RESTING my fatigued working single mother body- (I also began to trust my gluten allergy over the ritual of eating bread in my weekly sacrament meeting. This was a health gamechanger.)
I gave myself permission to consider that the all- wealthy- white- conservative- male apostles and prophets may not have the answers for a single black mother-representation really does matter. I know for sure that if they had more women of color in their organization, that I may have felt more shepherded.
I gave myself permission to reconsider whether the checklist of worthiness in my dating- was really serving me. ( My experience dating mormon men -who met the checklist of returned missionary, active church attending, temple card holding - was full of imbalance of power and my feeling often used and/or devalued).
When I began dating outside of the mormon church, I was valued like I had never before been. (I was straight up killin’ the game lol)
I finally got to validate my outrage and consider how my church was actively oppressing the LGBTQ+ community and it lit me up to speak up! My heart also multiplied by a million as I made more friends in this community and hear their stories.
I got to question what it is specifically that makes males so inherently better at leading every single meaningful aspect of church (Spoiler, its nothing. Women are equal. Its just patriarchy and tradition and bullshit. #ordainwomen).
I suspected that I knew gay people in the church, and I still feel an enormous amount of guilt for contributing to their oppression. The suicide rates among LGBTQ+ in Utah are the highest in the US and I felt like I could have directly contributed to that just by being silent.
The interesting thing is that I believe I used my LGBTQ+ outrage as a practice for me to find my voice and heal from the anti-blackness that was perhaps too painful for me to approach immediately.
You can’t pick and choose which lives matter.
Bigotry and oppression can sit comfortably and silently in a congregation for a long as the membership will allow it. And I will never try to “come for” someones religion, but I will state clearly that the faith of my upbringing doesn’t have the runway to be silent any longer. That there is a long documented history of anti-blackness and LGBTQ+ oppression (don’t even get me started on the oppression of women). Instead of waiting for the leaders to validate these movements - I believe its best stated in scripture-
Ye shall know them by their fruits. Do men gather grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles? Even so every good tree bringeth forth good fruit; but a corrupt tree bringeth forth evil fruit.A good tree cannot bring forth evil fruit, neither a corrupt tree bring forth good fruit.Every tree that bringeth not forth good fruit is hewn down, and cast into the fire.
-Wherefore, by their fruits ye shall know them.
The Mormon church owes me nothing- but I would love to see it be different. I know the homophobia and racism and sexism I have seen in the church, is there because the culture and leadership allows it to be there.
I know individuals and groups that are doing their best to be inclusive within the church organizaton, and my hats off to that effort. I support and solute you.
But its a no for me.
So do I hate all religion? Definitely not. I will worship with and hold space for anything that feels like love and churches often cultivate that beautifully.
But, It has been my experience that as Ive explored and discovered my own inherent worthiness outside of organized religion- Ive gained more clarity and closeness with my relationship with other humans on this planet. There is a greater feeling of oneness for me and my heart really has grown 1 million times bigger outside of church.
This love started with self love- knowing that I am worthy- in my womanhood, in my blackness, in this body, in my motherhood and family. Its not conditional on any person (certainly not male church leaders) instruction for me or my body.
My intuition is good and worth listening to and following and that my path to happiness.
